In my own little way, I feel like I'm part of a group of writers who care deeply about pushing the essay forward.

To me, the moment you're talking about nonfiction you're talking about reality.

Resolution and conclusion are inherent in a plot-driven narrative.

You're one of 6.5 billion people now on the planet, and 99.9 percent of your genes are the same as everyone else's.

Momentum, in literary mosaic, derives not from narrative but from the subtle, progressive buildup of thematic resonances.

The beauty of reality-based art - art underwritten by reality hunger - is that it's perfectly situated between life itself and (unattainable) "life as art".

I don’t know what’s the matter with me, why I’m so adept at distance, why I feel so remote from things, why life feels like a rumor.