I'm aware of narrating certain experiences as they happen or obliterating those experiences with narrative and then those stories - not the experiences themselves - might become material for art. This kind of transformation shows up a lot in 10:04 because the book tracks the transposition of fact into fiction in the New Yorker stor

Just in case God isn't dead, our astronauts carry sidearms.

I remember I had this recurring dream that we were playing a night game and instead of eye black we had mashed up the glowing bodies of fireflies and put that under our eyes. So our faces were glowing - a kind of night vision.

I think the anti-intellectualism of a lot of contemporary fiction is a kind of despairing of literature's ability to be anything more than perfectly bound blog posts or transcribed sitcoms.

Every relationship can feel saturated by market logic or at best purchased at the price of the immiseration of others.

I have no interest in artists who are purely affirmative, who've made a commercialized fetish of the culture's stupidity.

The scare quotes burn off like fog.