“. . . while outside the living room window
bags of gold blazed yellow in the windowbox
and azaleas blared through pink trumpets . . .” Continue reading
“. . . while outside the living room window
bags of gold blazed yellow in the windowbox
and azaleas blared through pink trumpets . . .” Continue reading
by Evelyn Somers
“Funny, all the things that pass through your head when you’re sitting by a graveyard. It seemed though, no matter what he thought about, he soon got back to burying, and his own trouble. If he kept on thinking about it, he might go out of his mind, and maybe it would be a good thing if he did . . .” Continue reading
by Evelyn Somers
“We leave home and shed the identity we’re compelled to inhabit in our daily lives. At the same time, we’re not able to fully inhabit the place we’ve journeyed to. The result is an emotional and intellectual space we have unprecedented control over, but one with more room for self-invention.” Continue reading
by Evelyn Somers
“I decided in 2015, on New Year’s Day, that I wanted to have a book, so I just declared it the Year of the Book. It was a powerful lesson that what you put out there energetically, you reap.” Continue reading
by Evelyn Somers
“There is violence in my stories, but there is also tenderness, love. I’m interested in those things and everything in between. Often violence arises in a character who feels misunderstood. Words fail them, and they turn to what should be a very last resort.”
by Evelyn Somers
“I also wanted to write about the women who never show up in historical writing more generally. Sometimes in our histories the women disappear altogether. This mysterious—actually ridiculous—absence of women at key historical moments became crucial to me.” Continue reading
“I was aware that I was writing about myself as a gay man, while at the same time I knew this wasn’t a ‘gay travel book,’ whatever that might be.” Continue reading