Læs

Another up-and-comer, Amanda sent us something that can’t be translated into our non-English editions because it’s an extended riff on the pronunciation of the word “douche.”

How can I describe how it felt to complete my first novel? For me, the moment was a medley of emotion: relief, pride, closure. And sorrow. I was going to miss my quirky band of characters, all their pratfalls and gambling debts and incorrectly made...

Gus Visco is a Bronx-based writer. He is currently working on a historical fiction novel about the Soviet Union’s failed attempts to control the arctic psychics of Novaya Zemlya.

Harry Crews had just about every job a man might have to take in his lifetime—from working in a cigar factory all the way up (or maybe down) to teaching creative writing.

Edwyn Collins is that cool Scottish guy who was the singer in Orange Juice. They were one of the best and most original British pop bands ever.

Martin Amis is one of the great writers of contemporary fiction. Even if he’d given up putting pen to paper after his third novel, Money, this would be an irrefutable fact.

I thought of her as the defender of snakes. She was a German woman with shaggy, sandy blond hair. The first time I saw her, she was sitting with a group of paragliders at the Friends coffee shop.

It’s no wonder that David Lynch made two of his best films when he adapted Barry Gifford's Wild at Heart and then asked him to cowrite the script for Lost Highway.

I put my headphones on and began to watch a hirsute man, probably early 40s, receive oral sex from a thin-lipped woman of commensurate age. The byline in block letters read, “BJ From the Wife.”

Will Self’s books are about stuff like a woman growing a penis and raping her abusive husband (Cock and Bull). I mean, he’s Will Self. It’s a pretty big deal.