Recent Work

Go to When Werner Herzog Was My Dad

When Werner Herzog Was My Dad

When once the word “ecstasy” had conjured disembodiment, an ethereal truth, a pristine up-there-ness of aesthetic purity, now, after the baby, it meant something entirely different. Ecstasy was heavy and human, located in the body and the blood.

Go to The Mindfuck

The Mindfuck

Ah, I remembered the Midwestern insanity: laundromats that doubled as places of worship and Crock-Pots simmering cocktail wieners in stews of grape jelly and Worcestershire sauce.

Go to Awkward Walks With Unavailable Men

Awkward Walks With Unavailable Men

I was only a child, but I still understood clearly: Sadness is sometimes too big to stay in the middle of. Sometimes you have to go away and undo yourself. Sometimes all a person can do is baptize herself in an empty room.

Go to Love in Amish Country

Love in Amish Country

Consider the love language of these people something similar to a moaning, choking agony addressed at the universe. Call it holy desperation. Call it devotion. Call it belief in inherent dignity. This is real Amish romance, as real as it gets.

"I was stoned, and Carl Sagan spoke to me, and I saw that my task was to only write books worth remembering. I saw each book was a love letter to the aliens."

The Latest