Are you interested in the thoughts and lives of the bookish people of today? Don’t look any further and read the best interviews of the week.
Sara Nović on deafness in novels and how a good deaf man is hard to find.
The literary world has also had its share of diversity scandals, and perhaps, given the low number of deaf and hard-of-hearing authors writing in English, it is unsurprising that a good deaf man is hard to find in fiction. This is not to say there aren’t any deaf people in books, just that they are rarely well-rendered humans complex enough to transcend being used as symbols.
New fiction by Rachel Kushner in the New York Times. Read Fifty-Seven.
They dropped him from I.R.C. so early the sky was black. He walked until he found himself stranded on the median of a freeway entrance, cars streaming toward him with their blinding lights, like a video game where the enemies come right at you, motherfuckers just keep coming straight at you one after the other, bam bam bam.
The Believer interviewed Miranda July and asked her about domestic rituals.
I appear to be really into cleaning, but actually I hate it so much that I have to disassociate—it can’t really be me doing it.
Six authors talk about their childhood reading. Sara Eliza Johnson on her love of R.L. Stine.
R.L. Stine wrote the original series in my prime formative reading years, from 1992 (when I was eight years old) to 1997 (when I was 13), and I was always so excited when a new one came out. My early love of Goosebumps (as well as the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark series) blossomed into the unapologetic affection for the horror genre I have today, a lonely affection to have in adulthood!
Claire Vaye Watkins’ essay On Pandering sparked some debate, so we’re sharing it even though it happened two weeks ago.
I wrote Battleborn for white men, toward them. If you hold the book to a certain light, you’ll see it as an exercise in self-hazing, a product of working-class madness, the female strain. So, natural then that Battleborn was well-received by the white male lit establishment: it was written for them. The whole book’s a pander. Look, I said with my stories: I can write old men, I can write sex, I can write abortion. I can write hard, unflinching, unsentimental. I can write an old man getting a boner!