Sentences not found in H. David Thoreau’s Walden If it does not sing, then it is not my fish.
Horton Hears a What? a Who!? Green Eggs and Ham, that We Ate During the Depression How the Liberal Media Stole Christmas Horton Hatches the Egg That Never Calls Him Back Oh the Places You Will Never See Again The Cat in the Hat, that We Ate During the Depression Fox in Argyle Socks Hop […]
There’s nothing romantic about being a writer. Its labor is undertaken in solitude and its fruits are usually enjoyed in the same manner.
A curmudgeonly hybrid of book review and one liner stand up comedian: “In 1957 Kurt Vonnegut wrote a groundbreaking novel, he then proceeded to write it again twelve more times.” “Tom Wolfe’s latest book would be best committed to a bonfire of the vanities” “Dave Eggers A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius is a touching […]
Metaphors are a doorway made from language leading out.
When I’m reading and someone interrupts I tell them that I am in the middle of a sentence. Five minutes later when they begin to get impatient I tell them that it’s Faulkner.
Anyone who calls my work barbaric has never had their head split in half with an axe.