“Well, contentment is possible, in life and in fiction, but happiness? Happiness is a madness. I mean, happily ever after? What’s that? What would that be like? That would be like a cartoon.”
I am deeply aware that “truth” can be debated; all I can do as a writer is convey the truth that I’ve deduced from evidence. Each person coming to that evidence may find a different way of expressing inferences. A biography, after all, is the intersection of my own biography—my experiences, people I’ve known, my personality— with that of my subject.
by Evelyn Somers
There’s nothing monotonous about the intensity of Hadley’s perspective, even if her gaze is often turned on the details of daily life.
The thing that she said repeatedly was that people, especially artists, should spend time alone. “If you’re alone and quiet, you see the new things.”
by Sonya Chung
Emotion wells up: I feel sorrow, and gratitude, and pity. I don’t know what I am sorrowful about, for what I am grateful, or for whom I feel pity. But I feel these things, teeming and indistinguishable.
by Terry Hong
“I’ve been a slam poet, a fiction writer, a performer, and a journalist, and while I have all manner of manuscripts scattered across my apartment and office—poetry, short stories, and even a novel—I’m very picky about what I want to get published, and what will ultimately represent me. This is probably a very bad strategy for a writing career, but there you go.”
by Terry Hong
Chin went searching for nourishment elsewhere—literally. She signed up for a casual NYC Central Park tour . . . an experience that taught her to look around her with new eyes . . . [A]nd that’s the delicious, toothsome story of this memoir-with-recipes.