Random Encounters

Not often that I have a meaningful conversation while waiting for the bus. Usually I am approached by people who want a cigarette (I don’t smoke), to know how long until the next bus (because I am either psychic or they are too lazy to stop texting and check on their own smart phone), or if I have found Jesus (pretty sure he is dead, not a missing person, but then again it’s been a while since I’ve seen a milk carton with missing person ads printed on the side). So I wasn’t expecting the talk I had Saturday night.

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The Prose of Erpenbeck

Reading The End of Days by Jenny Erpenbeck has been pretty impressive. She writes with an eye that both includes the grimier details of life (keeping the story grounded) but also with an almost dreamlike style of narration (that leaves you adrift in the story). It is an impressive combination of the two that has me trying to dissect how exactly she makes it work so I can try to use it in my writing.

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I Miss Literary Theory

Looking over my prospectus, my thesis, and the list of responses I have written so far this term fills me with an odd mix of shame and dread. I hate most everything I have written for the class, they feel like a mix of random bits of nonsense I threw together to complete an assignment or glimpses of the inside of my head that I’d rather not have shared.

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