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If I Don’t Publish, I Don’t Exist
Remi Ashford, I say. A firm handshake. Author, nice to meet you. And then, the inevitable follow-up questions. What have you published? Where can I find your work? I smile and say, ‘oh I haven’t published anything yet.’ The lights begin to flicker. Shadows creep up the walls, swallowing the room inch by inch. A…
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You seem pretty angry for a girl so whimsical
The last thing I remember is colliding with something. I couldn’t stop in time. I taste something metallic on my tongue. I touch the edges of my lips and my fingers come back a deep shade of crimson. It all goes black. Oh no. Oh no. What have I done? How could I let this…
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The Weight of Small Things: On Proust, Memory, and the Strange Art of Noticing
Classics should not be taken so seriously sometimes. I know I am contradicting myself because the previous one had me in some spiral. This time, I am talking about Marcel Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past. I went from reading something from the Penguin Little Black Classics collection to picking up a 1,054-page book. And this…