The Antidote: Karen Russell

Bits that I loved, some small scattered thoughts about the novel as a whole.

4 seasons

I am convinced it is the only thing we truly own. It is the thing we make for ourselves with each new hour and, when I gaze upon that, when I travel my fingers across its ragged edges, it is always begging or pleading. It demands attention. Someone to need it. To love it. To own it.

Nothing left to say

in America you can suffer a mortal wound on a Wednesday afternoon and be expected back to work after lunch.

Thoughts on a failed short story: part two

Sam+

Cause I was lonely here and it's lonely still In the rugged country where the weeds grow fierce Quicker than the crop I keep running from In this rugged country.

[GUEST POST] Saturday Sketchbook: Repeating Patterns & Perfection

Sometimes when I have completely run out of ideas, or interesting places, or thoughts, or anger, I instead draw the same couple of patterns and lines over and over again. Layering them on top of each other in familiar and unfamiliar ways, deciding which color looks best combined with the other, drawing the same Olive cartoon shape.

Tops from a top

The top things I've consumed this year, since that's what this newsletter was originally about.

on writing a short story again and again and again and again

For a latest story (that I started with the title Drought) I worked on this board, so what follows is some rambles about the different parts of the board and what my thinking was attaching/creating them.

Kameron+

At night Kameron would pull up outside my house, leave his truck running, text me, and wait for me to crawl out the second-story window.