#twitter

I start reading every Elizabeth Wurtzel essay with optimism, like maybe finally she put her talent to writing about something than herself, and by the end of paragraph three that optimism has fled. So maybe you know Wurtzel has written an essay for New York Magazine? Probably you know, because for whatever reason, Wurtzel provokes a deep need in people to talk about how much they hate Wurtzel. So the comments are hundreds deep, Twitter is ablaze, and here I am, writing this blog post. And actually, she reminds me of Mary MacLane. She was a 19-year-old girl who wrote a memoir called I Await the Devil’s Coming in 1901 and it was an instant success. I wrote the introduction to the upcoming reissue, and there I talk about what a deeply interesting book it was. Not only “for its time,” but also it’s just kind of visceral and nasty and snarling, yet elegantly written. I kept thinking about MacLane, after the introduction got handed in and things went off to press. But this time, it wasn’t her writing that interested me, it was the way she never wrote anything very interesting ever again. She got stunted, somehow, winning all of that acclaim for being a young, sour thing. And I wondered if it was the fame that stunted her, because she spent the rest of her career spitting out copies of the memoir that made her famous. And it worked, until it didn’t. ↗

— Jenna Crispin

#mary-maclane #twitter

Twitter should ban my mother. ↗

— Frances Bean Cobain

#mother #should #twitter

I get on Twitter, one of my routines during the day, if I'm home is, I wake up, get a cup of coffee, turn on the Weather Channel and I'll look at what people are saying to me on Twitter on my phone. ↗

— Blake Shelton

#coffee #cup #day #during #get

If contemporary literary fiction doesn't read a bit like science fiction then it's probably not all that contemporary, is it ↗

— Warren Ellis

#twitter #science

If you want to write a negative review, don't tickle me gently with your aesthetic displeasure about my work. Unleash the goddamn Kraken. ↗

— Scott Lynch

#reviews #twitter #twitter

Last Friday night, I Twitted a photograph of myself that I intended to send as a direct message as part of a joke to a woman in Seattle. Once I realized I posted to Twitter I panicked, I took it down and said that I had been hacked. I then continued with that story, to stick to that story which was a hugely regrettable mistake. ↗

— Anthony Weiner

#continued #direct #down #friday #friday night

Twitter was like a poem. It was rich, real and spontaneous. It really fit my style. In a year and a half, I tweeted 60,000 tweets, over 100,000 words. I spent a minimum eight hours a day on it, sometimes 24 hours. ↗

— Ai Weiwei

#eight #fit #half #hours #i

I'm not on Twitter. ↗

— Megan Fox

#twitter

Apparently our portmanteau is trending on Twitter." He let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I didn't even know what a portmanteau was before Jukebox Hero. It's a mashup of our names, like Brangelina or Robsten. No idea what ours is -- what do our names make?" He considered this a for a moment before shaking his head. "It's probably awful," he decided. "Could be worse, though; I hear the portmanteau for the main characters in The Hunger Games is... well, their names are Peeta and Katniss. I'll let you guys figure that one out on your own. ↗

— Andrea D. Smith

#portmanteau #reality-tv #the-hunger-games #twitter #love

The future of fiction? he said. Maybe, she said. Will it have room for, you know, love & stuff? he said. Always, she said. OK then, he said. ↗

— Patrick Ness

#patrick-ness #the-guardian #twitter-fiction #love