Sublime is something you choke on after a shot of tequila.
House of Leaves is certainly about the unsettling nature of fear – and it was my aim to address that – but its also about recovering from fear.
Love of love written by the broken hearted, love of life written by the dead.
Stories heard but not recalled. Letters too. Words filling my head. Fragmenting like artillery shells. Shrapnel, like syllables, flying everywhere. Terrible syllables. Sharp cracked. Traveling at murderous speed. Tearing through it all in a very, very bad inreparable way.
Maybe you saw her first? Caught a glimpse between the lines, between the letters, like a ghost in the mirror, a ghost in the wings?
I could see her get all nervous but she was also excited. Nightmares have that quality, don’t they?
Absolutely nothing visible to the eye provides a reason for or even evidence of those terrifying shifts which can in a matter of moments reconstitute a simple path into an extremely complicated one.
My hands resemble some ancient tree: the roots that bind up the earth, the rock and the ceaselessly nibbling wordms.
Explanation is not half as strong as experience but experience is not half as strong as experience and understanding.
I’m all soils west when the Earth lets go. I’m a thousand Julys.
So often I wonder whether it is my right to capitalize, as I feel, so often, on the grief of others. But then I justify, in my own particular thoughts, by feeling that I can contribute a little to the understanding of what others are going through; then there is reason for doing it.
Even the closest relationships that I have I know could potentially fall away. That’s not to speak pessimistically or negatively about those relationships. In a weird way, it’s the opposite. I value them.
Physics depends on a universe infinitely centred on an equals sign.
The greatest of love letters are always coded for the one and not the many.
My interest is in how meaning is communicated via language, and I believe the shape, positioning, even the color of the language has an effect on meaning.
Come morning I found the day as I have found every other day – without relief or explanation.
Write what you love. Love will hold you through the hard times and hold the world during the good times.
Literature is capable of being a subject that people want to catch up on or discuss, whether at a coffee shop or a watercooler. It can become an intrinsic part of their dialogue.
Anger is one way to respond to fear. I say one way because responses are categorically multiple.
I believe the structure of ‘House of Leaves’ is far more difficult to explain than it is to read. And while I’d like to lay claim to some extraordinary act of originality, truth is I’m only taking advantage of capabilities inherent in everyone.