Megan Rowe’s Reviews > Tin House Magazine, Volume 15, Issue 4, Summer 2014: #60 Summer Reading > Status Update

When we enter the "line," do we sink into a sonic chamber of echoes and murmurs, an intertext that, like a cathedral, whether in Canterbury or in Cleveland, occupies a metaphysical location always the same?

For me, the act of writing is all about getting rid of self-criticism, and at the same time I have an almost religious belief in literature. These two kingdoms are impossible to unite.

I wanted Boyd to comfort me. He had a talent for that. If you were insulted because some asshole at day care said your kid's shoes were unsuitable, if you splurged on a nice TV and then realized you'd overpaid, if you got fired from your job because you used up sick days and it wasn't your fault, Boyd could make it seem hilarious. He could remind you it was part of the ever-expanding joke of human trouble.

And look at that teenage girl across the aisle in the bus, combing her hair, checking it in a mirror, pulling some strands across her face to make it hang right. Girl, I wanted to say, he fucked up bad enough to get himself where he is, and you're still worried he won't like your hair?