Still, there is a certain style of witty-but-not-actually-funny kinda-dark-but-not-really-dark literary realist story composed of poetic-but-definitely-not-too-poetic sentences that dominates much of what gets published in literary magazines and submitted to undergrad or MFA workshops. Normally there are couples having bad sex, parents divorcing, and grandmothers dying of cancer. Some of this is great, even transcendent, but I’ve just read enough of it in my life.
Late to the Party: Lorrie Moore’s Self-Help
Lincoln Michel
225

Thanks for saying this this way

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