It Was Sad And Fierce All At

I'm Probably A Lot Closer Than Perhaps The Contents Of My Early Fiction Suggest To A Jaded Denny's Waitress With Smoker's-lung-black Humor Than A Ghost Hunter.

"i'm Not Going Anywhere," She Told Me That Night. But Until We Are Old Ladies-a Cypress Age, A Sawtooth Age-i Will Continue To Link Arms With Her, In Public, In Private, In A Panic Of Love.

America's Great Talent, I Think, Is To Generate Desires That Would Never Have Occurred, Natively,... And To Make Those Desires So Painfully Real That Money Becomes A Fiction, An Imaginary Means To Some Concrete End.

Tin House Magazine Is A Port In The Storm For People Who Love Language. It Is Unfailingly Excellent, And Committed To Publishing New Voices In Addition To Delivering Freaky-fresh Work From Established Writers.

The Girl Has A Funny Way Of Romanticizing Things.