A few months ago I was slogging through Blood Meridian, and about 3/4 of the way through, Cormac McCarthy writes:
The truth about the world, he said, is that anything is possible. Had you not seen it from birth and [...] Continue Reading…
Tags: cormac mccarthy, fiction, personal resonance, truth
I can’t remember anyone my own age who was enthusiastic about books. Reading is by nature a solitary act, but just as natural for me was the impulse to share what I was reading, and my excited overtures tended to fall on indifferent ears. I was a very shy child, and books were one of the few things I got excited enough about to try talking with other kids. It was easy to justify retreating back into my imagination when they failed to reciprocate. he reason I kept trying, though, is because I did have powerful proof that some kids were as into books as I was. [...] Continue Reading…
Tags: all my heroes are dead, hush, nostalgia, reading, Reading Rainbow, stench of death
My trip back to high school creative writing class concludes with poetry. It will, I’m pretty sure, make you go blind. People keep asking me why I’ve posted this stuff, and the truth is, I’m not really sure. It [...] Continue Reading…
Tags: attempted suicide, dancing with the muse, early writings, high school, writing
