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What interests me about fiction is, in part, its flickering edge between realism and where a tear in the fabric of a story lets in some other sort of light.

Ben Lerner

Today in Book News, Ben Lerner talks to our buddy Parul Sehgal about writing fiction, former Poet Laureate Robert Haas wins the $100,000 Wallace Stevens prize for “outstanding and proven mastery in the art of poetry” from the Academy of American Poets, and a new study finds that female journalists get disproportionate amounts of abuse online.

Read more here.

(via nprbooks)

amakachao asked:

My kitchen smells like puke because it has been weeks since my roommate has done something with her dirty dishes. How do I ask her to clean up without staring yet another argument?

thatbadadvice:

Readers won’t stop sending the Bad Advisor their real-ass questions to answer, so the Bad Advisor is periodically going to try her hand at answering them.

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Congratulations, there is no good way to tell people to clean up the shit they don’t want to clean up without pissing them off some, because people be taking all kinds of exception when other people be pointing out the shit they’re doing that falls into a category other than “exactly what I want to be doing when and how I want to be doing it.”

Unfortunately, cohabitation.

Here’s what you do do: you make a fucking chore chart like you’re all a bunch of children, because even adult roommates who live together are a bunch of children, because humanity. You put your name on it and her name on it and you list the shit you both need to do in a timely fashion every week (or whenever) and then you buy some fucking gold stars and give yourselves some gold stars when you do your shit on time. That way nobody can argue about not having done their shit/having to do too much shit.

In the long term, you find a roommate with whom you have an “our” kitchen, rather than a “my” kitchen, who will treat communal spaces with roughly the same respect/attention you like to treat communal spaces. This will take you approximately your whole fucking life, good ass luck.

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