“Bird,” he cried, “I come on behalf of the emperor. Your voice is all anyone speaks of.”
On interrogating fear and what bats can teach about human connection.
The author discusses her new book, Stag Dance.
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“Bird,” he cried, “I come on behalf of the emperor. Your voice is all anyone speaks of.”
She stops to look into her mother's face. It is smooth and blank as a stone. Nothing emerges; nothing shifts.
The author discusses her new book, Stag Dance.
I worried I had broken the chatbot by trauma-dumping, and no one, human or machine, had the capacity to console me completely.
Whatever angle you look at it, one detail is incontrovertible: in the end, a man is going to be killed.
These art objects let me feel my own living form through the many shapes they had been pressed into.
Social media is filled with documentation of human suffering. So why read a tragic novel?