These events are corny and small-time, but Daniel still loves them. He found so much inspiration as a kid from them— somewhere, he has a beat up copy of The Martian Chronicles dissected with his own high school notes, and a long, rambling 'dedication' in the flyleaf from Bradbury, who had hung out in a downtown bookshop for its entire operating hours one Saturday in March, and who finally caved to offering personalized writing advice the third time Daniel had waited in line. A formative experience despite the fact that his own work eventually evolved past routine undergrad classics, never able to stick to fiction, far more enchanted with digging at the thing he was writing about than the writing itself (though, still, the writing).
It was just that novelists did more of these than journalists. So he does them, and they're usually half full even in tiny little stores. Now it's a bit of a mess, but it's a fun and interesting mess.
Even when there's a wild animal sitting in the fifth row. Strange that no one else notices. Do wild animals make eye contact? Between two sets of tinted lenses, can either of them tell?
The host is cheery and a fan, a BookTok girl who has used Interview with the Vampire as a gateway drug to reading some of his other work and recommendations and who now feels like an intellectual powerhouse compared to her peers. Which, to be fair, she probably is. Molloy has caught some heat off more established review circuits for engaging with short form media this way, but he doesn't get it. Never has. What if Bradbury told him to go fuck himself? (Well, he did, but he was laughing about it and laughed harder when Daniel stood in line yet again. Angles.)
Questions roll in. He says he can't comment on if he still speaks to anyone mentioned in the book, regarding them as sources who he has a professional duty to protect. He says the best way to get into journalism is to be nosy and take debate classes and do karaoke at crowded bars. Lose your fear. He says he doesn't mind the mixed reaction to his recent book because it's a new experience.
Is the very innocent creature in his cozy sweater and tidy bun going to ask a question as they close out this section, or meander up to a queue?
no subject
It was just that novelists did more of these than journalists. So he does them, and they're usually half full even in tiny little stores. Now it's a bit of a mess, but it's a fun and interesting mess.
Even when there's a wild animal sitting in the fifth row. Strange that no one else notices. Do wild animals make eye contact? Between two sets of tinted lenses, can either of them tell?
The host is cheery and a fan, a BookTok girl who has used Interview with the Vampire as a gateway drug to reading some of his other work and recommendations and who now feels like an intellectual powerhouse compared to her peers. Which, to be fair, she probably is. Molloy has caught some heat off more established review circuits for engaging with short form media this way, but he doesn't get it. Never has. What if Bradbury told him to go fuck himself? (Well, he did, but he was laughing about it and laughed harder when Daniel stood in line yet again. Angles.)
Questions roll in. He says he can't comment on if he still speaks to anyone mentioned in the book, regarding them as sources who he has a professional duty to protect. He says the best way to get into journalism is to be nosy and take debate classes and do karaoke at crowded bars. Lose your fear. He says he doesn't mind the mixed reaction to his recent book because it's a new experience.
Is the very innocent creature in his cozy sweater and tidy bun going to ask a question as they close out this section, or meander up to a queue?