This quote is from a Rolling Stone interview I read for novel research: web.archive.org/web/20210508...

Do I wish Our Flag Means Death got this amount of love? Sure. But we should celebrate this success. Maybe it’ll open the door for more diverse queer love stories on screen.

That privilege--the privilege to speak of your religious beliefs as certainties that are incontestable--is given to Christians alone in America. And anyone else knows this and tiptoes around it, reflexively.

But what if we stopped doing that, like this guy did in North Dakota?

I have always said it, I will continue to say it, we are limiting the productive potential of millions of freaks by demanding they earn a wage to survive instead of enabling them to do whatever thing their brain is broken for

I could write an entire essay on the cover alone, but what really gets me is the explicit lyrics warning from the CD era and the “don’t trust any over 30” adage twisted into something so out of touch it would make Grandpa Simpson cringe.

Inspired by this thumb-up-the-ass dumbshittery.

For me, if they’re being combative and/or obnoxious, it’s time to block. I guess the question is: how is their behavior making you feel?

Oh no. I haven’t read any of the other books. That kind of “rep” would set me off. Now I wonder if I should torment myself by looking…

It’s frustrating because it feels so lazy and throwaway. The lack is especially stark when compared to the detail put into Ilya’s Russian background. Speaking as a second gen Arab American and a writer, it wouldn’t have taken much effort to address this.

This makes sense, but I wish they'd come up with something else, because it was a fun little detail.

But I’m getting into the weeds here! I apologize.

For instance, if I’m reading Moshfegh, I know what I’m getting into. Same if I’m reading Becky Chambers. The problem is when I’m reading a novel that feels like Moshfegh and halfway through it morphs into Chambers (or vice versa!). Can that shift work? Sometimes. But usually it makes me grumpy.

Yes, the author/reader contract is rough because it goes both ways. To clarify, most of the time when I’ve felt that “betrayal,” it’s been the fault of the marketing copy giving me a false impression of the story. Usually, I know whether a story will be “for me” within the first 3000 words.

Yes, for sure. Just as I don’t need to know a character’s favorite pizza toppings, if it isn’t serving a purpose it can be omitted. And there are times when I do want the door to stay closed. It’s so subjective and related to managing reader expectations.

Some people say, “Give them their privacy!” Nah. I wouldn’t intrude on a real person in the bathroom, but characters aren’t people. They’re vessels. I’m experiencing the world vicariously through their eyes. So I want all the verisimilitude that entails, as long as it’s interesting.

For me, sex scenes are less about titillation (though there’s an aspect of that) and more about how the character behaves in this specific intimate instance. Like characters, I want it to be interesting. I’ve zoned out of many generic sex scenes that felt like they could’ve happened to anyone.

This is interesting, because I’m the exact opposite. If I’m in a character’s head, and I’m invested and attached to them, I want to follow them everywhere. And I feel something akin to betrayal when the author slams the door in my face.

Fair! I tried to come up with the most unappetizing vegetable someone would pass off as “hummus.”

“Do you want to try my beet hummus?”

“I am an open-minded person, so I will try your beet paste, but do not blaspheme in my presence again.”