Quick Hits Archives - Page 3 of 96 - The Millions
August 14, 2015
It’s relieving, it’s gratifying, it’s sad, but above all, it’s weird.
August 6, 2015
The entire art world falls under Tartt’s gaze: criticism, heists, trades, valuations, appreciation.
April 23, 2015
Last month, when I started reading War and Peace again, this time with the intention of finishing it, I decided that I would do so methodically, opening the book at least once every day, and not closing it until I’d finished a chapter.
April 6, 2015
by Mary Norris
The image of the copy editor is of someone who favors a rigid consistency, a mean person who enjoys pointing out other people’s errors, a lowly person who is just starting out on her career in publishing and is eager to make an impression, or, at worst, a bitter, thwarted person who wanted to be a writer.
March 26, 2015
Fates and Furies has so far been cryptically described as “an exhilarating novel about marriage, creativity, art, and perception,” and as, you’ll see, the book wastes no time introducing us to its protagonists.
February 4, 2015
Right now, Hallberg and the book are being featured at the ABA’s annual Winter Institute, a sort of Davos for independent booksellers.
January 16, 2015
It is possible to be cold-hearted and teach, but why do so? Students experience enough private pain some days to fill a lifetime. Literature can be the salve for a weary heart.
January 13, 2015
Half-human creatures are vehicles for reconciling our species on the continuum of other beasts. Monsters are projections of an atavistic unease — born of the sense that something bigger and badder is out to get us. These stories get weird and totally out-of-hand, but they never end.
November 11, 2014
I love repetition. I love doing the same thing at the same time and in the same place, day in and day out.
July 25, 2014
Eudora Welty edited her writing with scissors in hand to cut out and re-pin sections of text. Truman Capote fancied himself a horizontal writer: he would only work lying down, with a glass of sherry close at hand. Anthony Trollope maintained a rather more industrial regimen, beginning his day promptly at 5:30 a.m. and pacing himself with a watch to write 250 words every 15 minutes.