six impossible things before breakfast

2011 National Young Fiction Writer Finalist and 2013 National Scholastic Silver Medal winner for poetry. One time David Sedaris called me special.

“The truth is, everyone likes to look down on someone. If your favorites are all avant-garde writers who throw in Sanskrit and German, you can look down on everyone. If your favorites are all Oprah Book Club books, you can at least look down on mystery readers. Mystery readers have sci-fi readers. Sci-fi can look down on fantasy. And yes, fantasy readers have their own snobbishness. I’ll bet this, though: in a hundred years, people will be writing a lot more dissertations on Harry Potter than on John Updike. Look, Charles Dickens wrote popular fiction. Shakespeare wrote popular fiction - until he wrote his sonnets, desperate to show the literati of his day that he was real artist. Edgar Allan Poe tied himself in knots because no one realized he was a genius. The core of the problem is how we want to define “literature”. The Latin root simply means “letters”. Those letters are either delivered - they connect with an audience - or they don’t. For some, that audience is a few thousand college professors and some critics. For others, its twenty million women desperate for romance in their lives. Those connections happen because the books successfully communicate something real about the human experience. Sure, there are trashy books that do really well, but that’s because there are trashy facets of humanity. What people value in their books - and thus what they count as literature - really tells you more about them than it does about the book.”

—   Brent Weeks (via victoriousvocabulary)

(via the-library-and-step-on-it)

u kno when u hav many thing to do so u lay on the floor for long time

(Source: snoia, via seeking-a-friend)

vintageanchorbooks:

"It always amuses me that the biggest praise for my work comes for the imagination, while the truth is that there’s not a single line in all my work that does not have a basis in reality. The problem is that Caribbean reality resembles the wildest imagination.”
Gabriel García Márquez from The Art of Fiction No. 69, The Paris Review

(via thebowtierambler)

(feeling semi-collegiate and semi-competent)

dropitlikefscottt:

the-library-and-step-on-it:

This is one of four manuscript versions of Wilfred Owen’s seminal poem “Dulce et Decorum est” digitised for the First World War Digital Poetry Archive. The manuscript resides at The British Library.

Christopher Eccleston reading this poem

dropitlikefscottt:

the-library-and-step-on-it:

This is one of four manuscript versions of Wilfred Owen’s seminal poem “Dulce et Decorum est” digitised for the First World War Digital Poetry Archive. The manuscript resides at The British Library.

Christopher Eccleston reading this poem

(via jonathantylerh)

Be still, my heart. Vermont knows what’s up.

edmyguidinglight:

I’m your backup, Veronica. 

(via elschaaf)

“The truth is, I pretend to be a cynic, but I am really a dreamer who is terrified of wanting something she may never get.”

—   Joanna Hoffman (via becomingroux)

(Source: wordsthat-speak, via aculturedcitizen)

[3/10] The Waves by Virginia Woolf

"I see nothing. We may sink and settle on the waves. The sea will drum in my ears. The white petals will be darkened with sea water. They will float for a moment and then sink. Rolling over the waves will shoulder me under. Everything falls in a tremendous shower, dissolving me."

(Source: teaparties, via thegirlandherbooks)

“Literature is born out of a desire to be truthful—not to hide anything and not to present oneself as somebody else. Yet when you write there are certain obligations, what I call laws of form. You cannot tell everything. Of course, it’s true that people talk too much and without restraint. But poetry imposes certain restraints. Nevertheless, there is always the feeling that you didn’t unveil yourself enough. A book is finished and appears and I feel, Well, next time I will unveil myself. And when the next book appears, I have the same feeling. And then your life ends, and that’s it.”

—   Czeslaw Milosz, The Art of Poetry No. 70 (via bostonpoetryslam)

imsirius:

Steve Kloves: You have that moment where Hermione says “That’s barbaric”

(via gendrybaratheons)

wordpainting:

“If I knew that today would be the last time I’d see you, I would hug you tight and pray the Lord be the keeper of your soul. If I knew that this would be the last time you pass through this door, I’d embrace you, kiss you, and call you back for one more. If I knew that this would be the last time I would hear your voice, I’d take hold of each word to be able to hear it over and over again. If I knew this is the last time I see you, I’d tell you I love you, and would not just assume foolishly you know it already.”—Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez
Rest In Peace (March 6, 1927—April 17, 2014)

wordpainting:

“If I knew that today would be the last time I’d see you, I would hug you tight and pray the Lord be the keeper of your soul. If I knew that this would be the last time you pass through this door, I’d embrace you, kiss you, and call you back for one more. If I knew that this would be the last time I would hear your voice, I’d take hold of each word to be able to hear it over and over again. If I knew this is the last time I see you, I’d tell you I love you, and would not just assume foolishly you know it already.”—Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez

Rest In Peace (March 6, 1927—April 17, 2014)

(via byzantines)