Knowing nothing about them, I'd pick The Pussy over PURITY or VIRTUE every time. Shallow as I am, I judge books by their titles and always pick what promises to be the most transgressive.
In a just world you would have done what you did, worked in print somewhere, got a book deal writing as honestly as you do now and been lauded as modern day Norman mailer. Sadly that world doesn’t exist at the moment.
There's a kind of writing you can only do under a pseudonym because it exists right on the line between cruelty and self-immolation.
I had a public journal 30 years ago. People loved it and the writing was really good and it was pretty safe since normal people didn't have the Internet yet.
But then I made the mistake of showing it to this girl I liked, including some stuff about her and some people I worked with.
I didn't write anything particularly crude or embarrassing, but instead of impressing her with how smart and sensitive I was, I freaked her the fuck out.
Trying to explain no, this isn't literally about you, this is about the idea of you that exists in my head, and I had some really important things to say about that idea and the idea only works if you strip away context until you're nothing but that idea.
If I included all the details that would make you a person, it would go on forever and it would get all muddled, and then my awesome last line wouldn't work.
Wait, where you going? I just need to explain…
Oops. I guess I have to quit this job now.
I learned later that girl died really young, so even if my dumbass seduction attempt had worked, I would have only had a couple years with her before she died, so I guess it all worked out.
The roads not taken can be interesting to think about. Rewarding the dog for going outside works. After a while you can replace the treats with scritches, but hammer it for at least 6 months.
Knowing nothing about them, I'd pick The Pussy over PURITY or VIRTUE every time. Shallow as I am, I judge books by their titles and always pick what promises to be the most transgressive.
In a just world you would have done what you did, worked in print somewhere, got a book deal writing as honestly as you do now and been lauded as modern day Norman mailer. Sadly that world doesn’t exist at the moment.
Norman Mailer! Just mentioned on his most recent podcast!
There's a kind of writing you can only do under a pseudonym because it exists right on the line between cruelty and self-immolation.
I had a public journal 30 years ago. People loved it and the writing was really good and it was pretty safe since normal people didn't have the Internet yet.
But then I made the mistake of showing it to this girl I liked, including some stuff about her and some people I worked with.
I didn't write anything particularly crude or embarrassing, but instead of impressing her with how smart and sensitive I was, I freaked her the fuck out.
Trying to explain no, this isn't literally about you, this is about the idea of you that exists in my head, and I had some really important things to say about that idea and the idea only works if you strip away context until you're nothing but that idea.
If I included all the details that would make you a person, it would go on forever and it would get all muddled, and then my awesome last line wouldn't work.
Wait, where you going? I just need to explain…
Oops. I guess I have to quit this job now.
I learned later that girl died really young, so even if my dumbass seduction attempt had worked, I would have only had a couple years with her before she died, so I guess it all worked out.
Franzen is a drag.
Epic, once again. Nice work.
You should still swab her cheek and send it in to Ancestry.
The roads not taken can be interesting to think about. Rewarding the dog for going outside works. After a while you can replace the treats with scritches, but hammer it for at least 6 months.
My apologies, I am a sucker for dogs.