Showing results for Nonfiction
When you love someone who won’t love you back, that is your full time job.
David Shields: Every artistic movement from the beginning of time is an attempt to figure... more
At first sight the line, nearly invisible but sometimes catching a ray of sun through the clinging water droplets, ran parallel to the brown water’s surface, from the tip of the pole held by the fisherman standing in the shallows out to unknown depths.
One morning I wake up and there are over thirty new texts on my phone, all from him. While I was sleeping, we got into an argument, made up, and then started fighting again, all without my knowledge or participation. Right now he is breaking up with me.
“My son was murdered last year. His bride murdered him.”
Where the fuck are the collected plays of Ron Allen? The police have won, that’s where.
I had my bags packed and was getting ready to leave with two insane-seeming girls who offered me sex in exchange for a ride to Cleveland when a few patients stopped me and essentially pushed me into the lecture hall. I don't know why I didn't put up more of a fight -
I googled “Karl Ove Knausgaard AND Nicholson Baker” and didn’t find much. A review of My Struggle... more
I thought about taking a picture of the book or, perhaps, a selfie of me... more
Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like squeegeeing sewage out the back door of the break room for three hours. Or push-brooming a greenhouse until your black snot could be used as an adhesive. Cupping each writhing Bag-a-Bug to see if they’ve eaten their fill of Japanese beetles.
You are obsolete. The cashier in your neighborhood’s grocery store is obsolete. The typesetter—who placed each individual letter for the headlines of the morning paper—is obsolete. Tollbooths barely require someone to stand sentry in the middle of the highway to collect coins anymore and soon enough lasers will replace surgeons in operating rooms as well.
How we pretended to be other people for fun: “Hi, what’s your name?” she asked. “Bill,” I said. “Bill, huh? I can think of a lot of words that rhyme with Bill.”
If one person can take from this that it is not about privilege, it is not fiction versus poet, it is none of the internet fashions of complaint and it is not anonymous (even though I am any-goddamn-pleasing-way anonymous with or without my fucking name) ...
“Simply one of the best writers alive in the world today.”
– Scott McClanahan, author of The Sarah Book, Crapalachia, and HIll William
currently ON SALE for $19!
Legs Get Led Astray
“Legs Get Led Astray is a scorching hot glitter box full of youthful despair and dark delight. Tender and sharp, wide-eyed and searching, these essays have a reckless beauty that feels to me like magic.”
—Cheryl Strayed, author of WILD
currently ON SALE for $11.95!