I have had with novel writing, and I have put to bed big chunks of work that just didn’t sustain my interest.
AIMEE BENDERNot getting bored of my own story and/or character is one of the main struggles.
More Aimee Bender Quotes
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We’re all getting too smart. Our brains are just getting bigger and bigger, and the world dries up and dies when there’s too much thought and not enough heart.
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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.
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My genes, my love, are rubber bands and rope; make yourself a structure you can live inside. Amen.” – Aimee Bender (Willful Creatures: Stories)
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It was a fleeting statement, one I didn’t think she’d hold on to; after all, she had birthed us alone, diapered and fed us, helped us with homework, kissed and hugged us, poured her love into us.
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It seemed to happen in springs, the revealing of things.
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Before she knew it was candles, did she think she’d done it herself? With the amazing turns of her hips.
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I didn’t mind the quiet stretches. It was like we were trying out the idea of being side by side.
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I don’t think so, I don’t agree. The most unbearable thing I think by far, she said, is hope.
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I’m obsessed with adolescence. I love to write about people in their 20s.
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As soon as you laugh from nerves or make a joke or say something just to say something or get all involved with the bushes, then you blow open a window in your house of desire and it can’t heat up as well. Cold draft comes in.
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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.
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Large meadows are lovely for picnics and romping, but they are for the lighter feelings. Meadows do not make me want to write.
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The most so far, because she found the saddest thing of all to be the simple truth of her capacity to move on.
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We hit the sidewalk, and dropped hands. How I wished, right then, that the whole world was a street.
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While she cut the mushrooms, she cried more than she had at the grave.
AIMEE BENDER