A few weeks ago, I wrote about an event at which Don’t Kiss Me author Lindsay Hunter teamed up with songwriter Holly Miranda for an interesting reading-cum-concert. Now, at The Nervous Breakdown, the writer conducts an interview with none other than herself.
"Would I have carried myself with the same swagger, or faced adversity with such feminine resolve, without Albertine as my guide?...I was drawn to a striking, remote face—rendered violet on black—on a dust jacket proclaiming its author 'a female Genet.' It cost 99 cents, the price of a grilled cheese and coffee at the Waverly Diner, just across Sixth Avenue. I had a dollar and a subway token, but after reading the first few lines I was smitten—one hunger trumped another and I bought the book." Patti Smith introduces Astragal by Albertine Sarrazin, recently rereleased by New Directions.
“She didn’t even want to be anything. She just wanted to be able to sit in a room and not feel tortured by it, which is sort of the human condition in general. Eileen isn’t dreaming of leaving home and making it in the big city on Broadway. She just wants to go and eat a banana, you know?” Ottessa Moshfegh on her new novel, Eileen, for The Rumpus.
Is there an indie press that consistently punches up as high and as successfully as Two Dollar Radio? They’re the ones who unleashed The Orange Eats Creeps onto our shelves three years ago, and they followed it up shortly thereafter with the breakout work of Scott McClanahan. Now? Now they’re poised for a threepeat with Shane Jones’s Crystal Eaters, which has already earned its author interviews on Hobart and The Paris Review. (Bonus: TDR’s publisher on moving his outfit to Ohio.)