It’s a love story, it’s a horror story, it’s got some cool elephants.

Consider a book this festive season! (preferably mine!)

I’ve forgotten this sometimes but being able to discover something you like, curate it, and make time to enjoy it *is* intelligence, connecting with art is intelligence, empathy is intelligence, the way of the dullard is to find nothing meaningful in art except for a way to seem snidely clever

[booting up an objectively bad but fun show for background noise]

I've put down some widely lauded books in the past few years because I found them unforgivably bad on a sentence level—and with almost no professional book criticism outlets remaining this stuff is rarely called out in the few reviews that do come out. Which is maddening! I love being line edited!