Now more than ever do I realize that I will never be content with a sedentary life, that I will always be haunted by thoughts of a sun-drenched elsewhere. - Isabelle Eberardt
The Patron Saint of Surf Lit Gets His Due
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No quote from antiquity sums up the metaphysical challenge of being a
surfer more aptly than this one, from Marcus Aurelius, the last Emperor of
the Pax ...
I (Once) Hate(d) Pink Floyd
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As kids, we assume that part of community acceptance is blind adherence to
that community’s accepted taste when, in fact, the punkest thing we can do
is ho...
Little Seed
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Excerpt
At the time of my brother’s first psychotic break, I knew nothing about
ferns but that I had one and it was dying. I watched its seashell leaves ...
Stepping Out of the Writer’s Cave
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Are you someone who tends to disappear when you’re deep into a writing
project?
I definitely hole up in what’s known as my writer’s cave. And, for what
...
20 Years of The Mumpsimus
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On August 18, 2003, I clicked "publish" on the first post of The Mumpsimus
blog. That very first post was a simple definition of the word of the
title...
Sessantotto a Parigi
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Il Sessantotto mi ha sempre fatto sognare. Nata a Milano nel 1967, il
Sessantotto per me è sempre stato solo un mito, un momento di magia e di
confusione...
How Things Work
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Gawker.com is shutting down today, Monday 22nd August, 2016, some 13 years
after it began and two days before the end of my forties. It is the end of
an ...
New Project: The Slow Man
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Just wanted to post a little announcement to folks who read and supported
After the MFA over the years — I have a new web project called
theslowman.com and...
d-day
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Dear Old Friends, I need to make a decision soon. Like many of you, I'm
sure, we've had some belt-tightening days here at SoT headquarters and
despite cons...