For the novel to improve, for ink-and-paper storytelling to stay relevant, for literature to tell today’s stories to today’s audience, it must learn from the work of screenwriters
Who knew when we’d see each other again, with the pandemic rolling in and the economy flipping belly-up, with graduation and wedding and career plans scattering in the air like confetti.
“Brothers in Christ, babe! Us two, we is just brothers, man. Brothers. Hey, you got any of those cans or bottles lyin’ around?”
People will die, the economy might tank, and my Italian honeymoon’s on the line, but somehow, it feels like I have a conflict of interest.
In this collection of essays, forty-four Calvin University graduates under thirty years old share the most interesting and intimate parts of their twenty-first-century lives. Co-editing, book design, and typesetting by Josh deLacy.
Only a very few of my friends and family members hate women or God, no matter what Rush Limbaugh and The Nation insist.
Making the text readable is only half the responsibility of good book design. The other half: making the idea readable.
Today I smell dead quail and gunpowder. Today I taste sweat. Good things, and my attention comes on its own.
Set your libido level to maximum!
I’ve peed behind dumpsters, on beaches, in alleys, gardens, parking lots, yards—and yet I was here, in this bathroom, I-can-pee-anywhere-ing in a space created for people who can’t.
I don’t know what home means without you.
Cognitive functions deteriorate with exhaustion; I once hallucinated midnight bicyclists and figures running through the woods after summiting Mt. Rainier.
Want to know about other types of spaces? Of course you don’t. I’m gonna tell you.
I’m committing to following this path as best I can, although I can’t see the turns ahead and everyone disagrees about the map.