Recommended Reading: Orrin Devinsky remembers his best friend, Oliver Sacks.
"In Saigon I always went to sleep stoned so I always lost my dreams, probably just as well, sock in deep and dim under that information and get whatever rest you could, wake up tapped of all images but the one remembered from the day before, with only the taste of a bad dream in your mouth like you’d been chewing on a roll of dirty old pennies in your sleep." The 100 Best Nonfiction Books of All Time series over at The Guardian soldiers on with its ninth pick, Michael Herr's Dispatches.
Ahead of National Poetry Month, Publishers Weekly Poetry Reviews Editor Craig Morgan Teicher asks and answers the questions many have contemplated: "What is accomplished by poetry reviews? Do they help sell books? Do they keep the art form in line? Do they spur writers into creating better poetry or kick bad writers out of the halls of Parnassus? Do poetry reviews help readers?"
"Chekhov’s contemporaries wondered: What sort of Russian writer was he? He had no solution to the ultimate questions. With no 'general idea' to teach, wasn’t he more like a talented Frenchman or Englishman born in the wrong place?" (And our own Sonya Chung argues that personal character was in fact his "general idea.")