A brand new “Back to School” issue of Bright Wall/Dark Room magazine comes out tomorrow! Featuring essays on School of Rock, An Education, Notes on Scandal, She’s All That, The Emperor’s Club, Monsters University, Whisper of the Heart, The History Boys and more…

Subscribe today and get it the minute it comes out!

Stoked for tomorrow, partially because I wrote one of these essays.

Check out Taylor’s essay on An Education. It is awesome, as she is awesome.

Having a beer. I want to dedicate this beer to all the dudes and dudettes who are out there quietly and undramatically handling the challenge of being alive with humility and aplomb. Grace under pressure.

lot of modern short fiction seems to take all its cues from Carver and Hemingway these days, huh? Is that a good thing? Obviously I don’t think so, and no apologies for that; read a few of these stories in a row and they begin to feel mannered and sterile.

I think there’s a lot to be said for variety in style, especially considering that literary fiction is ostensibly simply a collection of the fiction with the most artistic merit, and not a genre unto itself. When it conforms to the same style, and a few sets of employed tropes and plots, though, it seems that it is a genre, and not a particularly fruitful and creative one.

Well, I didn’t want to say anything until it was certain, but it’s official now. My bid in a blind auction for a house here in Black Mountain was accepted about ten minutes ago. This’ll be my first house I’ve owned in my life. I am beyond excited. I still have to go through closing, but the sale is contracted so no other offers can legally be accepted.

I’m beyond excited, too, to be living there soon with my girlfriend Taylor—as you probably know, our relationship has been long distance for quite a bit, but she should be moving in December.

For everyone that knew what I was up to, your thoughts and prayers are appreciated. For those that didn’t, know that I just didn’t want to tell too many people because I’d be that much more disappointed if I’d been outbid. You’re all welcome any time. I’ll have some pictures soon.

Gratitude is a wonderful feeling; today I feel utterly overwhelmed.

Katsukawa Shunkō I, Ichikawa Monnosuke.


I couldn’t help myself. Short hair is just so much more convenient, among other things.

Other things being damn look who is smoking hot.

Is there a limit to the number of times a dude can reread the Horatio Hornblower books without collapsing into a nautical singularity?

The new New Pornographers—God! there’s no good way to write that—album, Brill Bruisers, is, as usual, energetic and electrically luminescent. Can’t get enough of anything with Neko Case in it, anyhow.


I wrote about friendship.

I was around while this was being written, and it’s a great story about first friendships and growing up. You should read it.

“We redeth oft and findeth y-write,
And this clerkes wele it wite,
Layes that ben in harping
Ben y-founde of ferli thing:
Sum bethe of wer and sum of wo,
And sum of joie and mirthe also,
And sum of trecherie and of gile,
Of old aventours that fel while;
And sum of bourdes and ribaudy,
And mani ther beth of fairy.
Of al thinges that men seth,
Mest o love, forsothe, they beth.”
— Unknown poet, possibly John Massey, Sir Orfeo.