If You're Gonna Do Something Weird, Just

If You're Short On Time, That Would Be The Two-word Version Of Our Story: We Fell.

Madness, As I Understood It From Books, Meant A Person Who Was Open To The High White Whine Of Everything.

So Much Of The Way Books Get Classified Has To Do With Marketing Decisions. I Think It's More Useful To Think Of Literary Books And Sci-fi/fantasy Books As Existing On A Continuum.

Granana Doesn't Understand What The Big Deal Is. She Didn't Cry At Olivia's Funeral, And I Doubt She Even Remembers Olivia's Name. Granana Lost, Like, Ninety-two Million Kids In Childbirth. All Of Her Brothers Died In The War. She Survived The Depression By Stealing Radish Bulbs From Her Neighbors' Garden, And Fishing The Elms For Pigeons. Dad Likes To Remind Us Of This In A Grave Voice, As If It Explained Her Jaundiced Pitilessness: "boys. Your Grandmother Ate Pigeons."

It's Funny, For A Long Time I Would Go Watermelon-red And Deny That I Was A Magical Realist. It Felt Imprecise To Me, A Misrepresentation.