Most of the writers I know are weird hybrids. There’s a strong streak of egomania coupled with extreme shyness. Writing’s kind of like exhibitionism in private. And there’s also a strange loneliness, and a desire to have some kind of conversation with people, but not a real great ability to do it in person.
David Foster Wallace (via dulcetdecember)
It’s so sad that he’s left us.
Want to collaborate on a Google Doc with Nietzsche, Shakespeare, Dostoyevsky, Dickinson, Dickens and Poe?
Click here. Start typing. Enjoy the hilarity.
Ninja Update: Wanna see something fun? Mention Shakespeare in a sentence and see what happens.
Dickens and Dickinson had a fight over the expression ‘What the Dickens’.
ALSO LEAVE POE ALONE HE HAD A HARD LIFE.
Shakespeare adds the adjectives “handsome and lovely” before his name.
Poe corrects Shakespeare’s adjectives and substitutes with “dreadful and lonely.”
Meanwhile, I attempted to write a florid sex scene, but Dickens kept coming in and making it WEIRD. I typed, “On this exceptionally hot night, two lovers meet. The fragrant air spurs them to an unexpected passion.” WHICH DICKENS CORRECTED TO “On this exceptionally hot night, two lovers coincidentally meet. ‘The fragrant air spurs them to an unexpected passion,’ replied Oliver, ‘I want some more.’”
Later I wrote “nothing matters” just to see who would say something, and Dickens corrected THAT to “‘Nothing matters,’ said she, in the same hurried passionate whisper.” I just??? Collaborating with Dickens on some porn, ndb. Morning well spent.