therumpus
Stories in both collections jump time, scenes, and sometimes even characters and/or narrators, and the rewards for those who seek metaphorical connections rather than cause and effect are many. Surrender your preconceptions of beginning-middle-end, and you’ll be more than satisfied. This takes patience: Stuart Dybek won’t hold up to a lazy-Sunday skim on the beach. This isn’t a David Mitchell or Hari Kunzru kind of time-jump, but one more akin to Joyce or Proust or Woolf, where the only signal you get for a shift is a word or two, maybe an image. You have to really love language and rhythm and let your guard down a little.
Language is a uniquely human ability — so much so that it’s hard to even imagine how we could exist without it. But the areas of Margaret’s brain that would have made language possible never developed… She was fated from birth to live in a world of silence. Her mind was a walled citadel, the secret interior of which, gloriously detailed or shaded and gray, was hers alone to know.
Matthew Derby’s extraordinary essay on language, silence, and the upcoming novel The Silent History [via BuzzFeed]
There might be people in this world who can read minds against their will and if that kind of person exists I am pretty sure my husband is one of them. I think this because of what happened the week I knew I’d be leaving soon, but he didn’t know; I knew I needed to tell him this but I couldn’t imagine any possible way to get my mouth to make those words, and since my husband can unintentionally read minds, he drank a good deal more than usual that week, jars of gin mostly, but tall beers from the deli, too. He’d walk in sipping a can hidden in a paper bag, smile like it was a joke.
I would laugh.
He would laugh.
Inside our laughing we weren’t really laughing.
Read Chapter 1 of Catherine Lacey’s new heartbreaker of a novel, Nobody is Ever Missing—and enter to win a copy—here.

There might be people in this world who can read minds against their will and if that kind of person exists I am pretty sure my husband is one of them. I think this because of what happened the week I knew I’d be leaving soon, but he didn’t know; I knew I needed to tell him this but I couldn’t imagine any possible way to get my mouth to make those words, and since my husband can unintentionally read minds, he drank a good deal more than usual that week, jars of gin mostly, but tall beers from the deli, too. He’d walk in sipping a can hidden in a paper bag, smile like it was a joke.

I would laugh.

He would laugh.

Inside our laughing we weren’t really laughing.

Read Chapter 1 of Catherine Lacey’s new heartbreaker of a novel, Nobody is Ever Missing—and enter to win a copy—here.

"Bev and Amy have been best friends for years; now, at thirty, they’re at a crossroads. Bev is a Midwestern striver still mourning a years-old romantic catastrophe. Amy is an East Coast princess whose luck and charm have too long allowed her to cruise through life. Bev is stuck in circumstances that would have barely passed for bohemian in her mid-twenties: temping, living with roommates, drowning in student-loan debt. Amy is still riding the tailwinds of her early success, but her habit of burning bridges is finally catching up to her. And now Bev is pregnant. In Friendship, as Bev and Amy are dragged, kicking and screaming, into real adulthood, they have to face the possibility that growing up might mean growing apart. ”
(Read the first chapter here…)

"Bev and Amy have been best friends for years; now, at thirty, they’re at a crossroads. Bev is a Midwestern striver still mourning a years-old romantic catastrophe. Amy is an East Coast princess whose luck and charm have too long allowed her to cruise through life. Bev is stuck in circumstances that would have barely passed for bohemian in her mid-twenties: temping, living with roommates, drowning in student-loan debt. Amy is still riding the tailwinds of her early success, but her habit of burning bridges is finally catching up to her. And now Bev is pregnant. In Friendship, as Bev and Amy are dragged, kicking and screaming, into real adulthood, they have to face the possibility that growing up might mean growing apart. ”

(Read the first chapter here…)

nprbooks
nprbooks:

Our very own David Green got to hang out with JOHN WATERS and talk about his new book, Carsick — I am so jealous, I think I’m gonna run out and die for art!

On the people he met along the way and whether he turned them into movie characters
I didn’t have to turn them into extreme characters to be interesting to me. What was interesting to me was how matter-of-fact they were about being kinda great, and being accepting and being completely unjudgmental, but at the same time trying to help people — that farmer that gave me money, or that other woman who wouldn’t leave until I took the money. …
It reaffirmed my belief in the goodness of people. They treated me very nicely — that had nothing to do with any kind of fame or seeing me on a talk show or that kind of stuff, so that was very comforting to me. Now, some of the people when they would ask me what I do, I would tell them and they didn’t even believe me.
But I didn’t care, I mean, I wanted to talk about them. And the ones that did, then I’d give them what they want. I’d tell them anecdotes about movie stars and everything they wanted to hear. That’s fair. That’s my job! I got picked up hitchhiking! Your job is to talk. Or have sex. And no one asked.

— Petra

nprbooks:

Our very own David Green got to hang out with JOHN WATERS and talk about his new bookCarsick — I am so jealous, I think I’m gonna run out and die for art!

On the people he met along the way and whether he turned them into movie characters

I didn’t have to turn them into extreme characters to be interesting to me. What was interesting to me was how matter-of-fact they were about being kinda great, and being accepting and being completely unjudgmental, but at the same time trying to help people — that farmer that gave me money, or that other woman who wouldn’t leave until I took the money. …

It reaffirmed my belief in the goodness of people. They treated me very nicely — that had nothing to do with any kind of fame or seeing me on a talk show or that kind of stuff, so that was very comforting to me. Now, some of the people when they would ask me what I do, I would tell them and they didn’t even believe me.

But I didn’t care, I mean, I wanted to talk about them. And the ones that did, then I’d give them what they want. I’d tell them anecdotes about movie stars and everything they wanted to hear. That’s fair. That’s my job! I got picked up hitchhiking! Your job is to talk. Or have sex. And no one asked.

— Petra