black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

My eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. That I can go to anytime I want.

Aimee Bender

Mom flipped through the magazines like the pages needed to be slapped.
AIMEE BENDER

Flip Magazine Mom Need Page Slap
When the light at Vernon turned green, we stepped into the street and George grabbed my hand and the ghosts of our younger selves crossed with us.
AIMEE BENDER

Ghost Grab Hand Light Self Step Street
He was also removing all traces of any tiny leftover parts, and suddenly a ritual which I’d always found incestuous and gross seemed to me more like a desperate act on Joseph’s part to get out, to leave, to extract every little last remnant and bring it into open air.
AIMEE BENDER

Carefully Concentrate Desperate Detail Intimate Leave Open Part Remnant Ritual Time
I’m obsessed with adolescence. I love to write about people in their 20s.
AIMEE BENDER

Adolescence Kind Obsess People Twenties Write
Listen. Look. Desire is a house. Desire needs closed space. Desire runs out of doors or windows, or slats or pinpricks, it can’t fit under the sky, too large. Close the doors. Close the windows.
AIMEE BENDER

Blow Close Desire Door Large Listen Need Run Sky Space Window
My genes, my love, are rubber bands and rope; make yourself a structure you can live inside. Amen.” – Aimee Bender (Willful Creatures: Stories)
AIMEE BENDER

Band Gene Inside Love Rope Rubber Story
I have had with novel writing, and I have put to bed big chunks of work that just didn’t sustain my interest.
AIMEE BENDER

Bed Big Interest Novel Sustain Work Writing
I was with them for all of it, but more like an echo than a participant.
AIMEE BENDER

All Echo Like More Participant
If everything kept to its normal progression, we would live with the sadness-cry and then walk-but what really breaks us cleanest are the losses that happen out of order.
AIMEE BENDER

Break Clean Cry Everything Happen Lose Normal Order Parent Progressive Walk
But what I kept wondering about is this: that first second when she felt her skirt burning, what did she think?
AIMEE BENDER

Believe Burning Kept Passion Second Skirt Think Thinking Wonder
That’s the thing with handmade items. They still have the person’s mark on them, and when you hold them, you feel less alone.
AIMEE BENDER

Burger Feel Handmade Hold Item Little Person
Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn’t love me – I felt the wash of her love every day.
AIMEE BENDER

Brother Daughter Day Every Lover Mom More She
It’s a pleasure to dive into Hirshberg’s storytelling skills in American Morons.
AIMEE BENDER

Country Dive Moron Pleasure Skill Story Telling
Glen Hirshberg’s stories are haunting, absolutely, but not only because of the content.
AIMEE BENDER

Absolute Brain Content Haunt Sadness Skill Sorry
Kissing George was a little like rolling in caramel after spending years surviving off rice sticks.
AIMEE BENDER

Kiss People Rice Rolling Stick Survive Year
It seems the best work I do is when I am really allowing the unconscious to rule the page and then later I can go back and hack around and make sense of things.
AIMEE BENDER

Allow Back Best Later Page Seem Unconscious Work Writing

My eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. That I can go to anytime I want.

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My eyelids are my own private cave, he murmured. That I can go to anytime I want.

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Popular Authors

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