The Draughts of Evil
Over the years, the shine of living the literary life — you know, on the road, properly sauced, dirt poor and scribbling in battered notebooks — has dulled. It’s part of the past now, those rosy days of youth when we’d avoid responsibility and stay up late reading Rimbaud, smoking cigs and drinking cheap wine. Ah, the clichés of the naïve bohemian! But, just because we’re not going to spend our days hopping Greyhounds and downing fifths, it doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy reflecting on the literary heavyweights who did. If you can relate, head over to Life Magazine, where an online gallery shows off the writers who sent caution — and moderation — to the wind. — Kevin Murphy
Tagged as:
Literature in the Media
A Perfectly Flawed Family
No one has a flawless family. But some families have more flaws than others. We know a kid whose father has no arms. The father is a terrible alcoholic, and every evening begs his children to pour him drinks. They — the children — of course refuse, and so the father walks around the house trying to kick all the doors off hinges. He usually just ends up falling down flat on his face, and his kids have to help him up. Then the father tries to gnash his children with his teeth.
We also know a girl whose mother only talks once a year. Every year on the 28th of February she asks the same thing: Is it leap year? That’s all she wants to know. If it isn’t leap year, she nods her head slightly. If it is leap year, she nods her head slightly. Then the family endures another year of silence, until her annual query comes around again.
Maybe your mom has a Mohawk. Maybe your brother has a plate in his lip, like one of those exotic types in National Geographic. Maybe your cousin paid a plastic surgeon to give him six nipples. Even if all these things were true, your family still wouldn’t be as screwed as the Snegirevs.
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Wednesday's Writerly Happenings
