I met Stephen Elliott at Tin House and bought his book. Happy Baby. which is searing. I get The Rumpus emails. This was in one from this week. Stephen is like some brilliant wounded muppet. Like a hungry raccoon with dreams of becoming a pole dancer. Or a cute hipster poet Atlantic City DJ. Ginsberg meets Bushnell.
‘I’m especially not going to indulge in nostalgia. I don’t have any patience for that. No wistfulness, no nostalgia, no pining for missed opportunities, no regrets, no entitlement, no entering contests, no take backs. Those are some rules I wrote once for myself in a small notebook I carried in my jacket pocket. There were a few more…Tell the story forward, lack perspective, avoid learning lessons, write magical, don’t make fun of other people’s fashion choices.