Reading takes us away from home, but more important, it finds homes for us everywhere.
Hazel Rochman
(via bookmania)
Peter Solarz

No title available
RMH
hello vonnie
Cosmic Funnies

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

shark vs the universe
DEAR READER

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Claire Keane

JVL

★
NASA
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
dirt enthusiast
styofa doing anything
KIROKAZE
todays bird

#extradirty

seen from Spain

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seen from Malaysia

seen from France
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seen from T1
seen from Philippines

seen from United States
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seen from France
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@sackettstreet
Reading takes us away from home, but more important, it finds homes for us everywhere.
Hazel Rochman
(via bookmania)
A book is a heart that only beats in the chest of another.
Rebecca Solnit, The Faraway Nearby (via existential-celestial)
When I am down or out or in need of inspiration, I listen to The Rolling Stones of the early 1970s play a live version of ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash.’ …I put it on, I am revivified, I write again. No, I still don’t know who Jack is, or why he jumps. I know only that he does, and makes others, including my muse, jump with him.
Adam Gopnik, in this week’s Writers Recommend (Poets & Writers, 2017)
Author Dina Nayeri left Iran when she was ten years old. In a discussion sparked by her new book, "Refuge," listeners called in to share their own stories of immigration, belonging and fear.
“For me, as a first-generation immigrant, it’s heartbreaking, particularly as a new mother,” Nayeri said of watching the Charlottesville violence. “I see my daughter, who is very clearly Iranian, and I remember what it was like for me when I first arrived: the feeling of outsiderness, the feeling of not belonging. Being not just a pariah but extra, not wanted, very much a symbol of what is wrong with the world in other people’s minds.
"As an American, and as a naturalized American, it makes me more than just nervous, it breaks my heart. It takes away the welcome I so longed for until I got it. It takes me right back to those memories of the citizenship ceremony and all of the moments where Americans welcomed me.”
We’re happy to share the cover of instructor Rachel Lyon’s debut novel with @simonbooks Self Portrait with Boy. And it’s available for preorder now on Amazon!
Oh my god.
I often will write a scene from three different POVs to find out which has the most tension.
Dan Brown
(via psliterary)
How to Be a Contemporary Writer
1. Read diversely.
2. Write.
3. See items 1 and 2.
4. Accept that there is no one way to make it as a writer and that the definition of making it is fluid and tiered.
5. Accept that sometimes literary success is political and/or about who you know and that’s not likely to change. Yes, celebrities are going to keep publishing terrible books. Yes, Lisa Rinna’s Starlit is an actual thing. I read the book and… I’m scarred. But. You’re not getting better as a writer, worrying about the system.
5a. If you’re a woman, writer of color or queer writer, there are probably more barriers. Know that. Be relentless anyway. Strive for excellence. Learn how to kick the shit out of those barriers. Don’t assume every failure is about your identity because such is not the case.
6. Accept that sometimes cream actually does rise to the top and hard, consistent work will eventually get noticed, maybe not in the way you envisioned, but some way, some how.
7. Understand the actual odds and learn to love the slush pile. The slush pile is not your enemy. It’s actually one of your best friends.The truth is that a significant percentage of the slush pile, which I prefer to call the submission queue, is absolutely terrible because people are lazy and will submit any old thing. If you can write a good sentence you are already heads and shoulders above most of what is found in submission queues. You’re not competing against 10,000 submissions a year a magazine receives. You’re competing against more like 200. Those are still intimidating odds but they’re also far more reasonable.
8. Be nice. The community is small and everyone talks. Being nice does not mean eating shit. Being nice does not mean kissing ass. Being nice just means treating others the way you would prefer to be treated. If you’re comfortable being treated like an asshole, then by all means.
9. Know that more often than not, editors have your best interests at heart. Stand up for your writing but be open to editorial suggestions. A good editor is giving you feedback in service of your writing.
10. Ignore most of the atrocious writing advice that proliferates at such an alarming rate.
11. Stop listening to conspiracy theories about publishing.
12. Stop listening to doomsday predictions about publishing.
13. Don’t talk yourself out of the game by listening to conspiracy theories, doomsday predictions, and bad advice.
14. Make note of the distinction between writing and publishing. They are two very different things.
15. Know that you can get an agent through the mystically fearsome slushpile. It may be hard. It may take more time than you want but it can and does happen. I found my first agent through the slush pile. She’s great. My second agent found me because of essays I wrote. Sometimes people find agents at conferences, or through friends of a friend, or other such connections but you absolutely can go the old fashioned route.
15a. Do your research. Know what agents are interested in. Spell their names correctly. Have a book you give a damn about and make sure it shows. Know how to talk about your book.
15b. If you want to see a sample query letter, just ask a writer who successfully signed with an agent through the slush pile. They will probably share.
15c. This is an interesting take on navigating the business of agents.
15d. But don’t be so discouraged!
16. You do not need to live in New York to be a writer, though New York is great (dirty bathrooms aside) and it might be better if you live elsewhere and visit New York for a few days at at time.
17. Perspective is everything. Someone getting a book deal is not taking yours away. Success is not as finite as it seems–it’s a matter of luck, timing, and hard work. (Or sometimes, yes, who you know).
17a. You are neither as great or terrible a writer as you assume.
18. Know that sometimes you simply need to work harder and sometimes you’ve done the best you can do and there’s no shame in either.
19. Participate in the literary community in the ways you are comfortable participating. What matters is that you contribute. That could be subscribing to a magazine, attending a reading, volunteering at a literary magazine, and so on. (See #8)
20. Have an online presence or don’t. It’s shocking how much time writers spend stressing over this that could be spent writing. Yes, an online presence helps but only if you actually use it with some regularity. Plenty of writers don’t have a significant online presence and manage to still be writers. If you feel like having an online presence (Twitter, Facebook, Blog, Tumblr, whatever), is a pain in the ass, it’s going to show and it’s not worth having.
21. If you’re going to have a website, don’t have an ugly website. There’s no excuse anymore. If you cannot afford a designer, no problem. Use a content management system like Wordpress or Tumblr and a nice template.
22. You will probably need a job unless you’re fine with financial stress. Yes you can have a job and be a writer. It happens all the time. I used to be fine with financial stress because I was young and my fantasies were exciting. I am not anymore because I am old and I love my apartment and health insurance and buying stupid shit. A job facilitates these things so keep it in mind. There are worse things than a job.
23. Learn to deal with rejection. You don’t have to like it. You can sulk and whine and cry. You can blog about it. Just know that publishing involves rejection far more than acceptance. It’s easier if you can process that early on.
23 a. Maybe don’t write editors who reject you to call them names. That doesn’t ever end well.
24. Have other hobbies. Don’t be one of those people who only writes and can only talk about writing. My hobbies are embarrassing but I do have them and am grateful to have them.
25. Ignore all of this as you see fit.
Garrard Conley’s stunning story of his experience in gay conversion therapy has found its path to the big screen courtesy of Joel Edgerton.
It’s really just about noise in one’s head. I need a lot of mental space to roam around the universe of my fictional world. My mind is very susceptible to busy-brain distractions; all it takes is one email or news story and the whole thing—my focus—goes off the rails. I think Nicholson Baker has talked about keeping the lights off in the morning, so he can transition “from dream to dream,” a semi-trance state that flows directly into the writing.
Digging For Characters: A Conversation With Sonya Chung by Maria Anderson (via therumpus)
We are kicking off Monday with fantastic news: join us in welcoming acclaimed writer Lidia Yuknavitch to Riverhead Books! Many of you have fallen in love with Lidia’s writing, whether through her works of thrilling fiction like The Book of Joan, or her powerful memoir The Chronology of Water. You may also know her from her powerful TED talk “The Beauty of Being a Misfit.” We’ll be publishing her next two works of fiction. The first of these books, This Is Not a Flag, a revelatory group portrait of marginalized Americans in personal crisis, will be published in the spring of 2019. The second, an epic novel entitled Thrust, traces the stories of four characters in the 19th and 21st centuries in a fictional chronicle of the creation of a colossal female statue designed as a national symbol, inspired by the story of Frédéric Bartholdi and the Statue of Liberty. This weekend we asked Lidia a few of our most burning questions, and this is what she said:
What’s the best thing about being a misfit?
The best thing about being a misfit is our unstoppable ability to reinvent ourselves from seeming nothingness or rubble. We have the ability to shape-shift, to ever-become. We’ve had to, since we didn’t fit in the first place, or because we get continually ejected, or because we feel alive only at the edges of things. That’s not nothing. People could learn things from us: How to endure, how to come apart and reconstitute in the face of despair. No one has gotten anywhere without falling to pieces along the way … and misfits carry this story in our bodies.
What gives you hope?
Well, when it comes to hope, I’ve stopped looking up. I don’t find it in superheroes or gods, saviors, leaders, or celebrities. What gives me hope happens at ground level—maybe even dirt level. Worms are some of the most hopeful creatures on earth.
What gives me hope is the way people create light even inside brutality. How children survive war and go on. How victims of violence manage to emerge and thrive. What gives me hope is the kind of kinesis created through artistic collaboration. Art gives me hope, as it’s a form of expression that can interrupt and counter the destruction that comes from consumer culture, and the politics of a death-driven culture (anti-planet, anti-existence, anti-love). Love gives me hope—especially a kind of reimagined, radicalized love, one that pulls away from the hubris of the individual and moves toward sustaining the planet and each other and animals and ecosystems. The emerging voices and bodies and art of women, people of color, LGBT people, indigenous people, and so-called “outsiders” (ex-cons, ex-junkies, people with mental health or physical differences, poor people, people outside of economy or academia or most institutions) give me hope—the kind of hope that says maybe, just maybe, the story can finally turn.
What’s your favorite statue?
This question makes me so overly nerdgasm excited I almost can’t answer it. Let me calm down. Okay. It’s a 4-way tie:
The Winged Victory of Samothrace. (I put a lock of my hair at the base of this one.) St. Joan at Nôtre Dame de Paris. (I’ve licked this one.) The Ecstasy of St. Teresa, by Bernini. (I left a tiny poem on this one.) Edvard Eriksen’s The Little Mermaid. (Visiting her—swimming to her—is on my bucket list.) I mean, look at them! Gaaaaaahhhh. There’s one other statue I’m obsessed with, but that’s another story. Ahem.
Who’s a favorite artist of yours who’s not a writer?
Another nerdgasm. Wait … you mean choose one? Joan Mitchell and Louise Bourgeois—although maybe Louise doesn’t count, because she wrote some wonderful little stories to accompany her drawings.
Tell us one amazing thing about swimming.
In water, you go both forward and backward in time, which is to say you leave what we pretend is time and enter something interdimensional, something more like the cosmos. You go back to your breathable amniotic origins, and you go forward toward a weightless recognition with all matter and energy. Maybe it’s like being a star in space. A lifedeath liminality. But maybe I’m just, you know, weird.
What else should we know that we might not?
I sleep with four small stuffed monkeys. Yes, it gets crowded. Tell no one.
Cats or dogs? And why?
Well, let me pre-empt the hate first by saying that cats are the slyest, smartest, wiliest, most hilariously passive aggressive creatures on earth. Okay? But dogs, man. Dogs all the way. Who else do you know that would roll around on their backs and bellies in the grass with you? I mean, maybe Walt Whitman, but who else? No one, that’s who. A dog will follow you out to the middle of the ocean if you bring a stick with you. A dog will stick by you if you’re freezing to death in a Game of Thrones episode. A dog will sleep on your grave if you loved them right in life. Who else would do that? Someday we will figure out how to repay them for what they have given us.
Wonderful news!
Some say the medications stifle creativity. For me it was the opposite.
“There are many who claim that antidepressants stifle creativity. Years ago, at the height of my instability, my husband and I saw “A Beautiful Mind,” and I thought, if John Nash can cure himself of his schizophrenia by sheer willpower, I should be able to stop obsessing. It was this cruel expectation of myself that filled my 20s and 30s with self-loathing. I try not to think of all the moments of joy I lost during that time, or the thousands of words I could not write, all because of my fear that medication would kill my creative muse.”
When I was younger, I wanted nothing more than to escape the South. At the time, I thought that there was nothing worse than being gay and Southern, that no two parts of a person could be more in c…
“When I was younger, I wanted nothing more than to escape the South. At the time, I thought that there was nothing worse than being gay and Southern, that no two parts of a person could be more in conflict, and I felt that there was nothing to be done for it except to leave one or the other behind. I did not realize that there was a difference between being Southern and being in the South, that one did not depend upon the other. The dissonance I felt in the South over being both queer and Southern had nothing at all to do with geography. Why would changing geography abate anything in the soul? The dissonance, I now think, arose because I felt from a very young age that to be Southern, one first had to love God and being gay prevented me from doing so because God could not love me back.”
Today, the brilliant writer Jamaica Kincaid turns 68. Kincaid, I shouldn’t have to tell you, is an Antiguan-American writer known primarily for her novels and her nonfiction (much of the latt…
“One of the things that young people need to know when they go into writing is that they ought to stop writing these stupid books that please people. They should write as if they might fail at it. To succeed at something mediocre is worse than to fail at something great.”
Thanks Entropy magazine for this regular listing of calls for submission!
The capacity of writing to save lives and change the world must be seen not as something that is innate only to the writing but as something that is enabled by, and in turn enables, social movements, revolutions and the struggle for power.
Viet Thanh Nguyen (NY Times, 2017)