Anthony Doerr weaves together a story across time and space, all the while asking the question, "What happens when stories get lost in translation?"
By reading On Animals, I remembered my animals.
There’s a common misconception that escapist fiction is far removed from reality, but I would argue that it is simply a different kind of truth about another aspect of reality.
Berlin’s writing captured a sort of reckless joy I recalled from my time in Paris: living on that rugged edge between foolish risk-taking and worthwhile adventure.
Across this textured face, I count all the bleeding and irritated spots, hooking onto them with my eyes and making sure that each and every unwanted citizen of a pimple on the once-clear expanse of my face is ingrained in my mind.
"I....have been able to use reading as both a reprieve from reality, as well as an educational tool to become a more productive version of my isolated self."
As I’ve gotten older, busier, and generally more stressed, I’ve noticed something sad about myself: I seldom read for fun anymore. When I was a growing up in the truly riveting hubbub of Morro Bay, California I would make a conscious effort to sit myself down and read a gosh darn novel or even just … Continue reading Finding Time to Read for Fun
Last semester, I took a class on the forgotten literary art of the epistolary. To drive home exactly how forgotten this art form is, I had to look up what epistolary meant. But hey, I thought, I write letters! I don’t usually send them, but if I’m interested in writing them, I should take a … Continue reading Perfume
Writing is an art. The creative process takes time and skill to perfect and the product, the message contained in the sea of words, has the potential to influence an individual, a nation, or even the world. But what of the vessel through which writing is conveyed? We live in a world where e-books are … Continue reading Essay: The Art of Letterpress
Four of us sit on the back stoop of our cabin, at the precipice between forest and not, with the dim glow of the porch light illuminating only half faces. David Foster Wallace’s first novel, The Broom of the System, lays open in front of us. The cover has been stripped from its spine—exchanged between … Continue reading A Moment of Reflection, with David Foster Wallace