If you stay in St. Louis, you write your own blues. I live across the river now, a negligible distance compared to my youth’s fleeting dreams of Boston, New York, or what the hell, Bhutan—but I use St. Louis as the excuse for my lack of ambition and adventure.So maybe I should be glad no one has heard of Mickey Hahn, whose life negates my excuse.
I hate the idea of the soul as remote, separate from the body, sealed up in some holographic tabernacle inside us. But I am afraid to lose the idea of soul altogether.
The word of the year reflects the zeitgeist, and we have been bullied by social media, dictated to by influencers, terrified by physical and political contagion, until the only obvious place to land was in crazed overreaction. Goblin mode.
When Sandbox VR came looking for writers to experience its new VR games—and one of them had a Star Trek theme—I gulped and said yes, then roped in my husband, who knows Star Trek the way other people know scripture.
Slowly it dawned on me just how hard this splashy, casual medium could be. The way real fun is often harder to find than work or habit, because it has to be spontaneous yet you have to take great pains to prepare for its possibilities.
The morality in Agatha Christie’s books plays no tricks on us. Law and order will prevail. Cozy comfort is impossible without its backdrop.And so, we have Jane Marple: clear-eyed, ruthless in the honesty of her appraisals, with a tart tongue but a warm heart.
We are overstimulated, overavailable, overbusy, and a long, meandering, curled-up-on-the-sofa chat seems an impossible luxury. Funny, how improvements so often subtract from life’s quality.
Brazilians embraced her as their finest modern author, yet. Her writing process was intuitive, soaked in emotion, and “entirely unconscious”; you would never guess she studied law.
The persona was the mask worn by actors in ancient Greece—but its purpose was not to fool the audience about the actor’s identity. The mask’s exaggerated expressions helped define the character, and most important, the mask functioned as a tiny megaphone, making the actor’s voice more audible.
Primarily a playwright, Bennett won acclaim for "The History Boys" and "The Madness of George III." That theatrical sense of pacing and dialogue keeps "The Uncommon Reader" sparkling, even (or perhaps especially) during the Queen’s internal monologues.
Novelty is what Americans are said to crave, yet it terrifies policy wonks, CEOs, art dealers, and almost everybody else. This is no time for experiments, we mutter, sharply aware of how precarious profit, amicable coexistence, and life itself are now. It is safer to follow a recipe exactly.
More than half a century later, a sign was placed on the shore of the Tallahatchie at the spot where Emmett’s body was found. The sign was ripped from the ground and probably thrown into the river as forcefully as his body had been. By the time its replacement was removed, it had been punctured by 317 bullet holes.