Otherwords

"Your parents used those old words, the argument went, and their parents and their parents, and so forth. They’ve collected some dust, sure, but are they not enough? Have they passed their expiration date? Think you got something to add?"

"Before I read this, I wanna ask you to embrace a few things," I said. "Number one: there is a narrative. Number two: it's written in rhyming couplets. Number three: there are no pictures..." 

"American Indians are not minorities in any traditional sense. We are the descendants of the original majority, citizens of over 500 distinct tribes, and holders of special legal and political status resulting from the treaties we signed with the U.S. government, the same government that broke every one of those agreements..."

"Screw it because you aren’t that lady in that poem whom Ezra Pound can only see as a collecting bin for dribs and drabs left by men. You’ve got money and a job. You made yourself. All those other Trumps are dead, or fired, or pleaded no contest to the charge of sex with a minor, or all of the above..."

"...I spotted an albino alligator at the nation’s largest aquarium, joined the whitest crowd to ever attend a Stevie Wonder show, and talked Fabio (!) into an #uglyvideoselfie..."

"But you know the saying: life is what happens when you’re busy drinking beer. You get snowed under at work, you sleep badly, you spend way too much time in Texas..."

"Don't sit down to be a writer, sit down to show me a story..."

"Highlights this year include Magic Sword absolutely destroying main stage at dusk, Holiday Friends at new-favorite-venue-that’s-equal-parts-prom-and-skating-rink Mardi Gras, and Ural Thomas bringing the pain at Hannah’s..."

"It got worse from there. A PowerPoint slide featured Kevin Durant's name, presumably left on by accident, presumably residue from repurposed materials..."

"Write in journals and diaries, write bad poetry and show it to no one or everyone, write stories and read them to people until they tell you to stop. Keep your writing secret. Or don’t. Try to get your writing published. Or don’t..."

“I sometimes shoot clay with my boss, Randy, and all we ever talk about is work. Last week, he asked me to write up a list of ideas for improving employee training and I actually got excited. God, I’m pathetic...”

"If you offer me a half-dead mountain man getting revenge on a one-note Tom Hardy (who still manages to steal the screen from him), I'll take Arnie Grape any day of the week..."

"If you want to say, 'thank you for listening,' don't say, 'sorry I'm just rambling...'"

“The Army (around here) hasn’t said much about Italy’s surrender. We don’t know whether they surrendered to the Allies or Germany. Anyway, I joined the Army to forget all that war stuff...”

"The marriage of truth and emotion. The trick, and it’s not easy, is to make this relationship work in harmony despite its inherent potential for conflict."

"When I first heard 'The Joshua Tree' in junior high, it felt like someone had created an album based upon a mood board I'd put together - big vocals, references to God, a lot of yearning, chorus pedals, etc..."

"Car salesmen and women seem to exist in their own world. What they think is cool is viewed by the public as tacky and obvious. For example, why do they insist on wearing white shirts and silk ties? Or what about gold watches, rings and chains? Who wears that stuff anymore? Don't they realize they are turning themselves into walking cliches?"

"When I was younger, I didn’t like revisions. You hear it enough times from older writers – the ones who’ve had a dozen books published, or simply a story or two – and it begins to feel like your dentist flipping you shit about not flossing..."

"When a bottle of beer costs you $7 in the hotel bar, it's best to go off-campus and find a place where the same dough will land you a double vodka soda..."

"Not far away sat the other starting guard, Jo Jo Pretty Paint, a brilliant long-range shooter, a dedicated kid—just a few minutes before a game at Miles City, his coach had found him alone, crouched, shuffling, covering an invisible opponent in the locker room shower. In two years Pretty Paint would go out drinking one evening, get into a car and careen over an embankment. He would go to his grave with a photograph of himself in his uniform, clutching a basketball..."

"Barry was dying, and he knew it. He didn’t hold back. He didn’t spare feelings. He taught writing like it was a matter of life and death, which, for him, I’d say it was..."

"By letting reactive news cycles set the agenda, even thoughtful people lock into tunnel vision. Being bombarded by groupthink on an issue, with stats backing it up, only seems to make the opposite side seem less reasonable, more immoral, and less human. That may help you feel like you’re on the right side of history, but it does nothing to bridge the philosophical gulfs over truly schismatic issues like gun control..."

"He's 75 now, but could easily pass for ten years younger, continuing to flash the double peace sign in spades around the country with six other quarter-of-a-band members, a motley-and-Mott-the-Hoople-hodgepodge of musicians playing a mismatched collection of hits. It's a very odd experience, His All-Starr show. You go from marching along to "Yellow Submarine" right into "Broken Wings" and "Rosanna." Eighties pop not your speed? Wait five minutes and you're safely back in rumba-town with "Oye Como Va..."

"As we walked to a yogurt shop near the theater and I replayed the scene in my mind, the tears wouldn’t stop, and it started to become embarrassing. You are a grown man who is crying in a yogurt shop, I thought to myself, and that finally stopped the tears..."

"Right as I stepped up, I decided to do all of what I had. To burn off the 2 minute extra of semi-fluff at the start, because a tie would be so unlikely, and so I’d be sure I had enough material, and so that I could end on my best punchline, which was, at the time: '1970’s porn star-slash-YMCA lesbian bush,' as I waved my hand in front of my crotch like a fucking magician..."

"Great writing peels away the layers of who we are as human beings. It gets to the heart and spirit of what it means to push through this life. Great writing pays attention to the details of sense and emotion, and delivers the specifics of both the internal and external."