Blog - Page 8 of 11

Literature and the Darkest Desires of Girls

As far as I’m concerned, the two most addictive reads to come out of Summer 2016 are: the novel The Girls by Emma Cline (Random House, June 2016) and the memoir Land of Enchantment by Leigh Stein (Plume, August 2016).

New Jersey Doesn’t Suck As Much As You Think It Does

I can’t help but feel spoiled living in an area with so many different things to experience within an hour’s drive. New York City, Philly and the Jersey Shore are just a few of the awesome places to discover new and exciting adventures. Just thinking about those poor bastards who have to live without a big city or an ocean nearby makes me appreciate how lucky I was to be born and raised in Central New Jersey. I can see any of the NY/NJ major sports teams, a show on Broadway, or go to some dope ass parks.

Excerpts From My Notebook: A History of Bad Ideas Made Me A Better Writer

Going through old notebooks is like watching old videos of yourself: It highlights how embarrassing you used to be and what poor decisions you used to make.

What September Means

September means a few things to us all. To my parents, it’s an anniversary month. Others, it’s a birthday. For many of us, it’s a change of season.

We All Knew Someone: 9/11 from Across the Raritan Bay

Across from the Raritan Bay and tiny beachfront in the almost-as-tiny New Jersey Shore town I grew up in—and still live in today—is New York City. Even if I have no urge to put my feet in the sand or water, I love going to the beachfront to see the Outerbridge Crossing connecting Staten Island to New Jersey, the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge connecting Staten Island to Brooklyn and of course, the Manhattan skyline.

Writing is my ritual. My desk is my altar.

Where to write?

The question has intrigued me for all of my adult life. Occasionally Poets & Writers Magazine will run the feature Where We Write, which examines a writer’s tie to their hometown, or a place that inspires them, or attending a residency that few can afford or even dream of.

I don’t know any glossy mag or blog that has tried to make sense of where, physically, writing takes place. What I mean is: I went seven years without a writing desk.

The real danger of Harry Potter has nothing to do with witchcraft

At the end of July 2016, a select few London theatre-goers were able to witness an update to the Harry Potter story with a new stage production, written by J.K. Rowling, Jack Throne and John Tiffany.

Those not in the audience were able to purchase the screenplay. And, I’m just projecting here, feel a rush of nostalgia and ruminate on what it means to grow up and come of age with The Boy Who Lived. (Spoiler alert: one day he’ll be 40.)

Nihil Est Machina: Finding Literary Beauty in a Godless Universe

In the volatile world of the internet, I still occasionally come across the notion that not believing in a god is to not believe in anything. Non-believers are still all too frequently seen as cold and cynical, undervaluing the world if they value it at all.

Heartbreaker by Maryse Meijer Consumes Like a Fever Dream

If you’re looking to be kept awake all night by a short fiction collection that will consume you like a fever dream, may I recommend Heartbreaker: Stories by Maryse Meijer, out from Farrar, Straus and Giroux in July 2016.

The bare bones prose will beckon you to read quickly, but you do so at your own peril. Meijer’s characters and the actions they take are consistently disturbing.

Politics, Pedagogy, and Hope

In the lush heat and thundering skies of late July, stores start rolling out back-to-school sales and school uniform displays, harbingers of the cooler, calmer weather to come. But this summer, the familiar rhythms seem hollow and dispiriting. This summer has been another in a long line of Red Summers, hatred pulsing, searing, erupting in violence that can’t be relieved by summer rain or the promise of the fall. It’s become harder and harder to find respite from the violence in the world.

Yet, in the middle of this summer that feels as if the world is coming apart at the seams, I find myself turning towards my turn in the classroom this fall with renewed energy and, importantly, renewed hope.

Just Be Aware: The Politics of Traveling Alone

Just be aware.

I’m going for a road trip on my own, to my new home. I cross the desert into Texas. My sense of self is shifting, as I leave my hometown and find a new environment many miles away. My sense of place is being shaken (at will, but that doesn’t make it less scary.)

Swearing in Literature? Fuck Yes.

What annoys me most about soap operas is when a character says: “I just can’t freakin’ stand this anymore!” or, “I flipping hate you, I really do!” or, “What do you mean I’m not the chuffin’ father?”

Like all other words, “bad” language has its purpose.

Leaving Cincinnati, Leaving Home

The first time I visited Pittsburgh, it felt larger yet more compact than Cincinnati. I spent the night sobbing in my hotel room with a bottle of wine (which you can’t even buy at a grocery store!).

Pittsburgh (where I was moving in August to start an MFA program) was overwhelming for many reasons: it was too big, too foreign, too not-Cincinnati.

Is This The Reel Life? Digital Surrogacy and Archival Authenticity

In his landmark essay “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction” (1936), critical theorist Walter Benjamin condemns the degradation of authentic aesthetic experience by the modern developments of reproduction (i.e., film and photography).

Why I’m Staying in New York Part II: Why I’m No Longer Staying In New York

The life of a writer, for all the adventurous yarns they weave, is essentially a quiet one.

If the writer wants time to write their great story of heroism and mayhem, then the very excitements that are being written about must give way to solitary contemplation. This conundrum can leave the writer without inspiration from everyday life regularly coming their way, wishing for an injection of something new into their life.

When the writer is out in the world, the creative creature in their brain must strain to take in everything that might become characters, scenes and ideas. In the writer’s darkest moments, which are not few and far between, perhaps they wish to witness a terrible traffic collision or overhear a violent and nuanced argument, just to feed the creative creature something juicy.

I often feel this way. Good stories are born out of many absurd or unique realities sewn convincingly together. The ideal situation, if I really want to make my writing convincing and well-researched, is to be thrown into some crazy scenario. As long as it isn’t dangerous and it is only temporary, my writing will surely benefit.

What a mix of dismay and delight I felt, then, on being told I will need heart surgery earlier this month.

Why I’m Staying in New York (For The Time Being)

Graduation season means that a flock of ex-students will be shot out into the world wondering what opportunities will present themselves and what successes will come next.

A Day for Dalloway

“Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.” So begins Virginia Woolf’s modernist epic, a quieter answer to James Joyce’s boisterous, poly-vocal “Ulysses.” Unlike Joyce and his tome which we celebrate worldwide on Bloomsday (June 16th), Woolf and her entangled narratives are admired, taught, and read the world over but there’s no day dedicated to Clarissa Dalloway’s trek through London.

Mrs. Dalloway offers a more complicated portrait of life and love than Molly Bloom’s emphatic yes. In 2016, it seems fitting to celebrate a novel that reflects as much darkness as light.