Departing a yard always feels to me somewhat like crossing a bridge over a deep gorge; one commits oneself to someone else’s defense against the void.
“I don’t read fiction for the story; I read it for the acts of language, for the feelingful feats of syntax, and if I don’t find any, I’ll move on. The fiction that interests me, the fiction that does me in, isn’t the kind that reports the world or embellishes it, but the kind that usurps the world entirely.”
Garielle Lutz