"the futurity that inheres in storms and wrecks"

The photon emission resulting from the reaction would tell her just how well her special cells were expressing His Biological Namesake, from which she could determine just how busy this gene du jour was. It never mattered to her what gene she was testing; she was just there for the light. She’d trick the cells into expressing luciferin, open them up, and swirl in His enzyme.

"WRITE A LOT

"Is it Stephen King’s one million words? Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000 hours? Chuck Wendig’s six shitty trunk novels and four billion tears spilled onto the dry dead earth of literature and publishing? Choose whatever arbitrary number you like, but the idea remains the same –

"You do this thing by doing this thing. You learn to write first and foremost by jolly well fucking writing."

"So Louie gives fans the sense that they’re being let in on the process, while also carefully guarding your sense of what he’s like. He acknowledges the theater of what he does for a living, the absurdity of trying to communicate with hundreds of thousands of people all at once, and the privilege of his position—all within the framework of the "guy who is sitting here." The message he ends up sending is that Louie may not be the underdog anymore but he’s clearly rooting for the underdog, and maybe that means he’s rooting for you."

"Think of all the women who have never slept with Jonathan Franzen. His anger must grow by the day. Soon it will envelop the world, and we will be forced to bow down in chains before it, and create ziggurats out of human corpses as terrible tribute. Some of these women who Failed To Fuck Jonathan Franzen might now be on Twitter, which is wrong because of a German essayist who is now dead."

"In their introduction to the Fall 1997 issue of The Seneca Review, Deborah Tall and John D’Agata christened and defined the lyric essay. It “forsake[s] narrative line, discursive logic, and the art of persuasion in favor of idiosyncratic meditation…It might move by association, leaping from one path of thought to another by way of imagery or connotation, advancing by juxtaposition or sidewinding poetic logic. Generally it is short, concise and punchy like a prose poem. But it may meander, making use of other genres when they serve its purpose: recombinant, it samples the techniques of fiction, drama, journalism, song, and film.” It is, in other words, a mash-up: borrowing from all, beholden to none. It likes to betray the genres from which it borrows, making wily little jabs at their most dearly held conventions."

Did he enjoy being a pop star? “No, I hated it. I hated the assholes. And I hated the fact … it’s what Smithy [Mark E Smith] said himself, that all the English bands act like peasants with free milk.” What did he mean? “All their belligerence went and they turned into forelock-tugging gruelheads as soon as they were around record company types.”

"Sorrow never stops in the Balkans. It’s the favorite topic, the inspiration, the poetic lament. It’s the history."