I couldn't pay attention to that, not to write the novel I wanted to write. We can't let our work be driven by the anxieties around narrative scarcity.
On the heels of her National Book Award-nominated debut novel, A Kind of Freedom, Margaret Wilkerson Sexton returns with The Revisioners, out in November.
I don’t worry about opioids altering how I perceive my life since I don’t get anything but pain relief from them. I just took a pain pill, but I’m not high.
I’ve changed as a person while working on it, reflected both in how I draw and in how I write, and the nation has changed as well, which I’ve tried to acknowledge and incorporate.
Writing will be obsolete when we're able to directly access our brains. It’ll be like Hieroglyphs—they’re beautiful, but we don’t need that shit anymore.
Mysteries aren’t something to be solved, but something to be embraced. We don’t need to conquer; we just need to be curious. For me, that’s where the revelation lives—in the not-knowing.
In his second memoir, Moody comes clean about his resistance to monogamy and an adult life marked by self-destructiveness and “a long list of regrets.”
I think that’s a valuable thing for critics to do—to break the boxes that people have created for art, that keep people from seeing them in a bigger vision.
One thing I love about the writing process is the way it consistently teaches me to let go of whatever I’m overly attached to, whatever I feel smug about.