onestarbookreview:

“Do you have any feelings, or are you just TOO FUCKING COOL?”

onestarbookreview:

Do you have any feelings, or are you just TOO FUCKING COOL?”

"I have always had to hold down a paying job of some sort and now I’m the mother of a small child as well, and the ability to make a literary life while teaching and parenting (to say nothing of housework) is sometimes beyond me. I don’t feel completely outwitted by it but it is increasingly a struggle. If I had a staff of even one person, or could tolerate a small amphetamine habit, or entertain the possibility of weekly blood transfusions, or had been married to Vera Nabokov, or had a housespouse of even minimal abilities, a literary life would be easier to bring about. (In my mind I see all your male readers rolling their eyes. But your female ones—what is that? Are they nodding in agreement? Are their fists in the air?) It’s hardly news that it is difficult to keep the intellectual and artistic hum of your brain going when one is mired in housewifery. This is, I realize, an old complaint from women, but for working women everywhere it continues to have great currency."

— Lorrie Moore on building a writing life, in The Paris Review

When you write a novel or a story, you don’t know where it’s going, and you don’t do it for money, and you don’t do it because someone says, We’ll print it if you do it, and we’ll pay for it. You may do it out of some weird principle, or when you get a surge of some inexplicable feeling, or the way certain people just fall into a habit of getting up, having breakfast, and then starting to write. But you do it because it’s a kick, and so there’s no telling where it will go.”

— Terry Southern in the Paris Review

Hollywood, that is to say, Los Angeles, is not, of course, a city, and its sinister forces are very oblique. There’s no public transportation system whatever, so the people drive around as though they were living in Des Moines, and it has all the rest of the disadvantages of a small town, only filled with displaced persons. On the other hand, life there has an engaging surrealist quality, an almost exciting grotesqueness.

The cultural scene there in general is sped up, sort of concentrated. Southern California is a mecca for all manner of freakishness, beginning on the most middle-class level—hot-dog stands in the shape of a hot dog. If you go there, you’ll immediately see a carnival, Disneyland aspect that is different from any other place in America.”

— Terry Southern in The Paris Review

I get along very well with actors. They’re like children. They need to be ­encouraged and reprimanded enough to know that you’re interested. You’d think that great actors, like George C. Scott or Laurence Olivier, would ­resent direction, but they all depend on it. They’ve got to have the attention—it’s like dope—but at the same time the attention has to be convincing, it has to be something that they can acknowledge as real attention, and they get pretty discriminating, because they get lots of broadside, blind ­attention. That’s the thing. If you give them that, you can enchant them into anything.”

— Terry Southern in the Paris Review

amyhuggy97:

Steve and Thor!

amyhuggy97:

Steve and Thor!

There is no such thing as beauty. There is desire and there is fear, and if desire can make a person luminous, fear can make the same person ugly.
Paul Theroux, “A Dead Hand” (via stefljapan)
theparisreview:

“I can’t say that I get up and read the paper at six and start to write at seven. I write when I have to, when it becomes a kind of biological necessity.”
An interview with Donald Margulies.

theparisreview:

“I can’t say that I get up and read the paper at six and start to write at seven. I write when I have to, when it becomes a kind of biological necessity.”

An interview with Donald Margulies.

Mallory Ortberg is a national treasure.

"I hope you don’t have friends who recommend Ayn Rand to you. The fiction of Ayn Rand is as low as you can get re fiction. I hope you picked it up off the floor of the subway and threw it in the nearest garbage pail. She makes Mickey Spillane look like Dostoevsky."

— Flannery O’Connor, letter to a friend