1. laphamsquarterly:

Teenage Emily Dickinson, meet adult Emily Dickinson….maybe.
A new photograph has surfaced in Amherst that reportedly shows Emily Dickinson in her mid-twenties. Her dress is apparently out of fashion for the time,1859, but that’s in keeping with her personality: “I’m so old fashioned, Darling, that all your friends would stare.”
“Emily Dickinson gets a new look in recovered photograph” [The Guardian]

    laphamsquarterly:

    Teenage Emily Dickinson, meet adult Emily Dickinson….maybe.

    A new photograph has surfaced in Amherst that reportedly shows Emily Dickinson in her mid-twenties. Her dress is apparently out of fashion for the time,1859, but that’s in keeping with her personality: “I’m so old fashioned, Darling, that all your friends would stare.”

    “Emily Dickinson gets a new look in recovered photograph” [The Guardian]

  2. vintageanchor:

Margaret Atwood’s 10 Rules for Writing Fiction
1 Take a pencil to write with on aeroplanes. Pens leak. But if the pencil breaks, you can’t sharpen it on the plane, because you can’t take knives with you. Therefore: take two pencils.2 If both pencils break, you can do a rough sharpening job with a nail file of the metal or glass type.3 Take something to write on. Paper is good. In a pinch, pieces of wood or your arm will do.4 If you’re using a computer, always safeguard new text with a memory stick.5 Do back exercises. Pain is distracting.6 Hold the reader’s attention. (This is likely to work better if you can hold your own.) But you don’t know who the reader is, so it’s like shooting fish with a slingshot in the dark. What fascinates A will bore the pants off B.7 You most likely need a thesaurus, a rudimentary grammar book, and a grip on reality. This latter means: there’s no free lunch. Writing is work. It’s also gambling. You don’t get a pension plan. Other people can help you a bit, but ¬essentially you’re on your own. Nobody is making you do this: you chose it, so don’t whine.8 You can never read your own book with the innocent anticipation that comes with that first delicious page of a new book, because you wrote the thing. You’ve been backstage. You’ve seen how the rabbits were smuggled into the hat. Therefore ask a reading friend or two to look at it before you give it to anyone in the publishing business. This friend should not be someone with whom you have a romantic relationship, unless you want to break up.9 Don’t sit down in the middle of the woods. If you’re lost in the plot or blocked, retrace your steps to where you went wrong. Then take the other road. And/or change the person. Change the tense. Change the opening page.10 Prayer might work. Or reading something else. Or a constant visualization of the holy grail that is the finished, published version of your resplendent book.

    vintageanchor:

    Margaret Atwood’s 10 Rules for Writing Fiction

    1 Take a pencil to write with on aeroplanes. Pens leak. But if the pencil breaks, you can’t sharpen it on the plane, because you can’t take knives with you. Therefore: take two pencils.
    2 If both pencils break, you can do a rough sharpening job with a nail file of the metal or glass type.
    3 Take something to write on. Paper is good. In a pinch, pieces of wood or your arm will do.
    4 If you’re using a computer, always safeguard new text with a memory stick.
    5 Do back exercises. Pain is distracting.
    6 Hold the reader’s attention. (This is likely to work better if you can hold your own.) But you don’t know who the reader is, so it’s like shooting fish with a slingshot in the dark. What fascinates A will bore the pants off B.
    7 You most likely need a thesaurus, a rudimentary grammar book, and a grip on reality. This latter means: there’s no free lunch. Writing is work. It’s also gambling. You don’t get a pension plan. Other people can help you a bit, but ¬essentially you’re on your own. Nobody is making you do this: you chose it, so don’t whine.
    8 You can never read your own book with the innocent anticipation that comes with that first delicious page of a new book, because you wrote the thing. You’ve been backstage. You’ve seen how the rabbits were smuggled into the hat. Therefore ask a reading friend or two to look at it before you give it to anyone in the publishing business. This friend should not be someone with whom you have a romantic relationship, unless you want to break up.
    9 Don’t sit down in the middle of the woods. If you’re lost in the plot or blocked, retrace your steps to where you went wrong. Then take the other road. And/or change the person. Change the tense. Change the opening page.
    10 Prayer might work. Or reading something else. Or a constant visualization of the holy grail that is the finished, published version of your resplendent book.

  3. theparisreview:

A Partial Inventory of Gustave Flaubert’s Personal Effects
As Catalogued by M. Lemoel on May 20, 1880, Twelve Days after the Writer’s Death.
In the bedroom on the first floor:
panama hattop hatred silk cravat5 pairs of gloves19 shirts2 dressing gowns5 waistcoasts7 walking stickstobacco jartwo pairs of boots

    theparisreview:

    A Partial Inventory of Gustave Flaubert’s Personal Effects

    As Catalogued by M. Lemoel on May 20, 1880, Twelve Days after the Writer’s Death.

    In the bedroom on the first floor:

    panama hat
    top hat
    red silk cravat
    5 pairs of gloves
    19 shirts
    2 dressing gowns
    5 waistcoasts
    7 walking sticks
    tobacco jar
    two pairs of boots

  4. Listen to this short story by BRUTUS, a computer program that writes fiction. Through a series of mathematical equations, its programmers taught BRUTUS the basics of plot, setting, and dialogue — as well as something about literary style.

    Listen to this short story by BRUTUS, a computer program that writes fiction. Through a series of mathematical equations, its programmers taught BRUTUS the basics of plot, setting, and dialogue — as well as something about literary style.

  5. It’s the ultimate summer reading list. The Library of Congress has announced its list of the 88 ‘Books That Shaped America.’ From Benjamin Franklin’s “Experiments and Observations on Electricity” to the late Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451” and from the “Scarlet Letter” to “The Cat in the Hat,” the chronological list is diverse.The Library of Congress claims that the list isn’t intended to be a “best of”. Instead, it’s an eclectic mix of books that have contributed to the American conversation over the years. The exhibition of the 88 titles opens today. More.

    It’s the ultimate summer reading list. The Library of Congress has announced its list of the 88 ‘Books That Shaped America.’ From Benjamin Franklin’s “Experiments and Observations on Electricity” to the late Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451” and from the “Scarlet Letter” to “The Cat in the Hat,” the chronological list is diverse.

    The Library of Congress claims that the list isn’t intended to be a “best of”. Instead, it’s an eclectic mix of books that have contributed to the American conversation over the years. The exhibition of the 88 titles opens today. More.

  6. Author Ray Bradbury has died at the age of 91. (Photo: Ray Bradbury in 1975. Alan Light/Wikipedia) In this archival interview from Studio 360, Bradbury describes how, as a young writer in the early 1950s, he was tapped by John Huston to write the screenplay for “Moby Dick” (at 36:50). The film’s key scene where Captain Ahab comes into contact with the white whale — which was not in Melville’s book — was Bradbury’s own contribution to the story.

    Author Ray Bradbury has died at the age of 91. (Photo: Ray Bradbury in 1975. Alan Light/Wikipedia)

    In this archival interview from Studio 360, Bradbury describes how, as a young writer in the early 1950s, he was tapped by John Huston to write the screenplay for “Moby Dick” (at 36:50).

    The film’s key scene where Captain Ahab comes into contact with the white whale — which was not in Melville’s book — was Bradbury’s own contribution to the story.

  7. In 1978, author John Irving rocketed to stardom with a sweeping, complex novel called “The World According to Garp.” It featured several characters unfamiliar to most Americans, including Roberta Muldoon, the former Philadelphia Eagles tight-end living as a transsexual. Irving often grapples with bisexuality and non-heterosexual relationships in his novels, but while a character like Roberta played a supporting role in “Garp,” Irving’s new novel, “In One Person,” details the story of Bill Abbott, a bisexual boy growing up in the Irving-esque small New England town of First Sister, Vermont. More.
(Photo: John Irving by Jane Sobel Klonsky)

    In 1978, author John Irving rocketed to stardom with a sweeping, complex novel called “The World According to Garp.” It featured several characters unfamiliar to most Americans, including Roberta Muldoon, the former Philadelphia Eagles tight-end living as a transsexual. Irving often grapples with bisexuality and non-heterosexual relationships in his novels, but while a character like Roberta played a supporting role in “Garp,” Irving’s new novel, “In One Person,” details the story of Bill Abbott, a bisexual boy growing up in the Irving-esque small New England town of First Sister, Vermont. More.

    (Photo: John Irving by Jane Sobel Klonsky)

  8. We caught “Harper Lee: Hey, Boo" on American Masers this weekend on PBS — fantastic documentary about the author and her book!
Last week marked the 50th anniversary of the film adaptation of “To Kill a Mockingbird.”

    We caught “Harper Lee: Hey, Boo" on American Masers this weekend on PBS — fantastic documentary about the author and her book!

    Last week marked the 50th anniversary of the film adaptation of “To Kill a Mockingbird.”

  9. 
On the boat we were mostly virgins. We had long black hair and flat wide feet and we were not very tall. Some of us had eaten nothing but rice gruel as young girls and had slightly bowed legs, and some of us were only fourteen years old and were still young girls ourselves. Some of us came from the city, and wore stylish city clothes, but many more of us came from the country and on the boat we wore the same old kimonos we’d been wearing for years-faded hand-me-downs from our sisters that had been patched and redyed many times. Some of us came from the mountains, and had never before seen the sea, except for in pictures, and some of us were the daughters of fishermen who had been around the sea all our lives. Perhaps we had lost a brother or father to the sea, or a fiancé, or perhaps someone we loved had jumped into the water one unhappy morning and simply swum away, and now it was time for us, too, to move on.
On the boat the first thing we did-before deciding who we liked and didn’t like, before telling each other which one of the islands we were from, and why we were leaving, before even bothering to learn each other’s names-was compare photographs of our husbands. They were handsome young men with dark eyes and full heads of hair and skin that was smooth and unblemished. Their chins were strong. Their posture, good. Their noses were straight and high. They looked like our brothers and fathers back home, only better dressed, in gray frock coats and fine Western three-piece suits. Some of them were standing on sidewalks in front of wooden A-frame houses with white picket fences and neatly mowed lawns, and some were leaning in driveways against Model T Fords. Some were sitting in studios on stiff high- backed chairs with their hands neatly folded and staring straight into the camera, as though they were ready to take on the world. All of them had promised to be there, waiting for us, in San Francisco, when we sailed into port.

Excerpt from Julie Otsuka’s “The Buddha in the Attic,” which won the 2012 PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction.
In this interview on Here and Now, Otsuka talks about her research and how it changed what she had originally planned for the book.
(Image: cover of Julie Otsuka’s “The Buddha in the Attic”)

    On the boat we were mostly virgins. We had long black hair and flat wide feet and we were not very tall. Some of us had eaten nothing but rice gruel as young girls and had slightly bowed legs, and some of us were only fourteen years old and were still young girls ourselves. Some of us came from the city, and wore stylish city clothes, but many more of us came from the country and on the boat we wore the same old kimonos we’d been wearing for years-faded hand-me-downs from our sisters that had been patched and redyed many times. Some of us came from the mountains, and had never before seen the sea, except for in pictures, and some of us were the daughters of fishermen who had been around the sea all our lives. Perhaps we had lost a brother or father to the sea, or a fiancé, or perhaps someone we loved had jumped into the water one unhappy morning and simply swum away, and now it was time for us, too, to move on.

    On the boat the first thing we did-before deciding who we liked and didn’t like, before telling each other which one of the islands we were from, and why we were leaving, before even bothering to learn each other’s names-was compare photographs of our husbands. They were handsome young men with dark eyes and full heads of hair and skin that was smooth and unblemished. Their chins were strong. Their posture, good. Their noses were straight and high. They looked like our brothers and fathers back home, only better dressed, in gray frock coats and fine Western three-piece suits. Some of them were standing on sidewalks in front of wooden A-frame houses with white picket fences and neatly mowed lawns, and some were leaning in driveways against Model T Fords. Some were sitting in studios on stiff high- backed chairs with their hands neatly folded and staring straight into the camera, as though they were ready to take on the world. All of them had promised to be there, waiting for us, in San Francisco, when we sailed into port.

    Excerpt from Julie Otsuka’s “The Buddha in the Attic,” which won the 2012 PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction.

    In this interview on Here and Now, Otsuka talks about her research and how it changed what she had originally planned for the book.

    (Image: cover of Julie Otsuka’s “The Buddha in the Attic”)

About me

The PRI Arts Tumblr is a collection of beguiling items created by our producers or found by our curators. PRI produces and distributes news, current events, arts and music content for radio, web and on-demand.

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