Such are the Splendors and Miseries of memory: it is proud of its ability to keep truthful track of the logical sequence of past events; but when it comes to how we experienced them at the time, memory feels no obligation to truth.
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Putting this story (and myself) to bed. The submitting fun begins tomorrow.
Roberto Bolaño’s Antwerp is the bestseller of our Memorial Day weekend so far, oddly enough....
Elaine: Wait up!
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Little Things by Raymond Carver
Early that day the...
by David Foster Wallace. An essay that is dear to my heart.
For...
“I’d like to go out in the front yard and shout something. “None of this is worth it!” That’s what...
I’ve crossed some kind of invisible line. I feel as if I’ve come to a place I never thought...
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