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I admired that stride it was like he folded space in two with it.

Aimee Bender

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Aimee Bender
Age: 55
Born: 1969
Born: June 28
Novelist
Writer
the United States of America
Folded
Stride
Admired
Space
Two
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I like birthday cake. It's so symbolic. It's a tempting symbol to load with something more complicated than just 'Happy birthday!' because it's this emblem of childhood and a happy day.
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Mom flipped through the magazines like the pages needed to be slapped.
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Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn't love me - I felt the wash of her love every day, pouring over me, but it was a different kind, siphoned from a different, and tamer, body of water. I was her darling daughter Joseph was her it.
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When language is treated beautifully and interestingly, it can feel good for the body: It's nourishing it's rejuvenating.
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It is so often surprising, who rescues you at your lowest moments.
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I'm obsessed with adolescence. I love to write about people in their 20s. It's such a fraught and exciting and kind of horrible time.
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I knew if I ate anything of hers again, it would lkely tell me the same message: help me, I am not happy, help me -- like a message in a bottle sent in each meal to the eater, and I got it. I got the message.
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As a writer you ask yourself to dream while awake.
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The wine glasses are empty except for that one undrinkable red spot at the bottom.
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I peeled the skin off a grape in slippery little triangles, and I understood then that I would be undressing every item of food I could because my clothes would be staying on.
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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 felt the crumpled paper that had taken the place of my lungs expand as if released from a fist.
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You can ruin anything if you focus at it.
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I give boring people something to discuss over corn.
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I watched as she added a question mark at the end. Arc, line, space, dot.
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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.
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I want to be violated by insight.
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I am the drying meadow you the unspoken apology he is the fluctuating distance between mother and son she is the first gesture that creates a quiet that is full enough to make the baby sleep. My genes, my love, are rubber bands and rope make yourself a structure you can live inside. Amen.
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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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Glen Hirshberg's stories are haunting, absolutely, but not only because of the content -- the stories themselves haunt, they stick around, they linger, inhabiting a little corner of the reader's brain and resurfacing to evoke mystery or sadness or longing. It's a pleasure to dive into Hirshberg's storytelling skills in American Morons.
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