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It had always been this way. Mothering, for my mother, was a cameo role.
In the story she was a dripping, chocolate-covered vamp.
Protect your hands. You can always get by if your hands aren’t broken.
Somewhere along the way her husband had gotten scared.
They’re not, and it’s not, and we’re not, and only a god can save us.
No author dodged readers who were indifferent to masterpieces.
To get the job, always stay starched, creased to death.
I realized you were my fourth love, and the system was always doomed.
Daofu was a cluster of lights bubbling up in the belly of a darkened plain.
I wondered if the coyotes and deer were mourning the loss of Steve.
The scent of lighter fluid and tobacco drifted in through the window.
Let those shadows sift the spirits of their children from the silt.
The power to alter one’s life comes from a paragraph, a lone remark.
Sam was like family. He was the angel of my writing life in every word.
Jayne Anne Phillips recalls her friend, the legendary Sam Lawrence.
I’ve wavered in confidence, but never on whether I was going to write.
I never left my wife, and she never left me, but this isn’t exactly true.
Barth looked after his students beyond anything expected of him.
There’s something about traveling by plane. People tell their secrets.
One of the most important human capacities is compassion.
Do we hunger after conflict as much as we hunger after justice?
Sometimes these fools shoot themselves, playing with their weapons.
He’s got it out. And I say Who’s there right now? Just your ex-wife.
He drew on time, and space, he drew on his powers, and their sleep.
No one in Lagos slouches. Bravado pulsates through the room.
She has beautiful cheekbones, but her eyes are nearly colorless.
All afternoon it rains on the traffic outside my window. It’s nothing new.
I came to computers while trying to run away from literature.
There was one lease Homer Young wanted above all others.