November: the month my head was full of dull gray noise. The inevitable result of soaking up too many sights and sounds in London and not having the time to process and put them into proper containers. In which I attended the National Book Awards and watched a personal hero, Patti Smith, take home the […]
I remember reading the word for the first time and chewing it like a piece of perfectly done steak: gestalt. It had come out of the mouth of Richard Patrick, frontman of Filter. It was in one of those very mid-’90s, sound-bitey to the point of being fetishistic “light” news sections in Rolling Stone or SPIN. […]
A tornado walloped Brooklyn last night, and on the bus ride home it hit me that for the first time in my adult life, I'm having fun writing. This realization sprang not from the electrical currents in the air but from the simple fact I'm reliving the most painful moments of my creative expression from a safe distance.
It's one of my most annoying traits: I'm a novelist, but not a great lover of many novels, especially anything post-1960.
Before anyone asks, the answer is no. Nope, Jilly Kilroy is not me, and, non, I am not Jilly Kilroy.