“There is often a bleakness that permeates Hebrew fiction, and certainly a much darker sense of humor, a lot of sarcasm and irony, as well as self-deprecation. These are less prevalent in most English writing…”
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“There is often a bleakness that permeates Hebrew fiction, and certainly a much darker sense of humor, a lot of sarcasm and irony, as well as self-deprecation. These are less prevalent in most English writing…”
"My stories often start with some image or moment that stays with me... It could be something I experienced, or a conversation I overheard, or the way someone looked at someone else… I will usually just start writing toward that image or moment and build from there."
“With O.J. there was an abyss of recklessness I was willing to dive into, a waxing appetite for danger I was unsure I could swallow.”
“She is either the trickster god of the desert or a divine messenger. Neither option is welcome, especially now.”
“In the spring of 2020, when the lockdown began, Liz still owned the ax that broke down her childhood front door…”
“Even if it’s just a small piece of me, it’s good practice for the trillions of years yet to pass in which I will not exist.”
“The balloon continued to expand until it was big enough for me to crawl inside and curl up like an embryo in a green rubber womb.”
“She watched him trot to the bathroom naked and thought of how strange his body looked. His four hairy legs were twice the size of her arms.”
“She wonders what curse this is, to swing from life to life, grief to grief, with no control.”
“He said he made the cranes in order to make a wish, though he didn’t tell you what it was, only that it didn’t come true.”
“Shit. I feel like I’m whispering all of this when I should really be shouting.”
“‘This land isn’t empty, it’s full of ghosts, you just can’t see them.' She says it flat, matter of fact, no judgement at all.”
“I feared the unfamiliar that winged within my own female form.”
“When I open the door, I face the drooping sun. The light in my face is bright, not warm.”
“He jumps, flashing the phones a shaka sign as he soars.”
“…it seemed the farther they traveled from home, the closer they were to those stars.”
“I’d hear this man’s footsteps above me when in bed, trying to trap the sound of his feet with my eyes…”
“…I can see it’s a black, shrunken stick about ten feet high, stripped of the bark I once ran my fingers over.”
