Cynthia L. Haven
If you don’t howl with the wolves, the wolves will howl for you.
I wanted to create a situation that Trump would not be able to actually catch up to in reality.
If I’m the god of my characters, I hope I’m a flexible one.
For me the great thing about anthropology – and the reason I remain an anthropologist – lies in this freedom that it grants its practitioners to roam intellectually.
And while I’m lobbing around so many crass generalizations, here’s one more: All of us are beholden to some larger tyranny or coercion, real or imagined, that is ever ready to crush us.
Instead of writing about a heyday of a culture or a scene or a place, I wanted to land in the aftermath. I wanted to see what was going on those doldrums.
Progressive politics and privilege butting heads: that’s sort of where I like to live when I’m writing.
Did Congress know that as a result of Sputnik we were going to have a deconstruction-mad America?
I knew that I was going to talk about abuse, I wanted to leave it on the page, action by action, without much reflection.
Most of us make poetry from life, but the Paneros insisted on making life from poetry.