Lit Category

art is worthless
unless it plants
a measure of splendor in people’s hearts.

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‘Dreaming in Cuban’ by Cristina García

Dreaming in Cuban (1992) is a hallmark of Latino literature and it’s been on my to read list for years, but it took a student’s undulating praise of it during a Novel class I taught last spring that pushed the novel to the top of my list this summer. And my word, I can see […]

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The stories that you tell, the words that you use and refine, the characters you try to give life to are merely tools with which you circle around the elusive, unnamed, shapeless thing that belongs to you alone, and which nevertheless is a sort of key to all the doors, the real reason that you spend so much of your life sitting at a table tapping away, filing pages. The question in every story is the same: is this the right story to seize what lies silent in my depths, that living thing which if captured, spreads through all the pages and gives them life?

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To read is not a virtue; but to read well is an art, and an art that only the born reader can acquire.

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If you start out to write a poem about two dogs fucking, and you write a poem about two dogs fucking, then….you wrote a poem about two dogs fucking.

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