“ I want to offer you a pair of ugly terms for two breeds of novelist: the Macro Planner and the Micro Manager. You will recognize a Macro Planner from his Post-its, from those Moleskines he insists on buying. A Macro Planner makes notes, organizes material, configures a plot and creates a structure — all before he writes the title page. This structural security gives him a great deal of freedom of movement. It’s not uncommon for Macro Planners to start writing their novels in the middle. As they progress, forward or backward, their difficulties multiply with their choices. I know Macro Planners who obsessively exchange possible endings for one another, who take characters out and put them back in, reverse the order of chapters and perform frequent — for me, unthinkable — radical surgery on their novels: moving the setting of a book from London to Berlin, for example, or changing the title.
Source : brainpickings.org
A Surprise ‘Music Video’ for Karen O
“ Since the second world war, we have got used to the idea that big war is a thing of the past. But no more. This is the third world war. And this time we are on its fringes.
Source : theguardian.com
“ Il y a un devoir de solidarité, mais il y a aussi un devoir de responsabilité vis-à-vis de ceux qui nous ont fait ce que nous sommes. Je choisis pour ma part la loyauté à mes idéaux
Source : livreshebdo.fr
“Up until I was a teenager, I’d been one of his favorites. We were always playing sports together. But soon after I came to America, we stopped talking. I think there was something missing on both sides. I don’t think I felt loved enough by him. I don’t think he felt that I was grateful enough for all that he’d done for me. A few years ago, I started trying to get in touch. But he’d never return my calls. So one day I just went back to France and knocked on his door. I hadn’t spoken to him in fourteen years. The only reason I knew he still lived there was that his name was on the mailbox. He didn’t even recognize me when he opened the door. He thought I was selling something. He said: ‘Can I help you with something?’ I said: ‘Dad, it’s me. Jimmy.’”
“What were his reasons for not talking to you for fourteen years?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think he was hurt by you?”
“I don’t know. But next time I talk to him, I’m going to say: ‘Some guy in Central Park asked me some questions. And I’m wondering if you could answer them.’”