Ernest Hemingway

Oxford (Comma) Debate: Is the Serial Comma Really Necessary?

By Dave Pezza and Matt DiVenere

Watching Dave Pezza and Matt DiVenere debate in an email chain is like marveling at a couple of old men try to club each other with their canes. Arms and legs flailing madly, dentures flying out of mouths, and no actual damage done owing to the physical infirmity of the contestants. Enjoy their most recent swashbuckling over the beloved Oxford comma.—Daniel Ford

Dave Pezza: Summation of my argument: I use the Oxford comma, or serial comma, because I am not a neo-fascist, white-privileged stooge of the boys' club known as journalism.

Matt DiVenere: The Oxford comma is for lazy writers who are too drunk to not realize they're rambling on and on. Or they just have a blatant disregard for the reader and are arrogant enough to think the reader will figure it out. Don't be lazy and rewrite your sentence.

Dave: That is inaccurate. The serial comma’s use is recommended by almost every major English style guide and non-journalistic based publishing house in the United States. Those who do not use the serial comma feel as though they belong to a long line of prestigious writers and journalists and have such an uncanny affinity for writing that their syntax never errs on the side of confusion. Therefore, their prose needs not that lowest and most plebeian of punctuation: the serial comma. And that is ironic, because most journalistic publications are written at an eighth- to 12th-grade reading level. And that very same comma would be added to any eighth to 12th graders’ paper.

So please, for the love of writing, stop purporting this high-handed, Machiavellian trope of superior writing and the common man’s inability to follow prose otherwise. It is demeaning, and those who think this way are very much in the minority. But I suppose that makes sense, the small minority pretending that it alone knows what is best for the whole.

Matt: Almost everyone thought the earth was flat.

Almost everyone thinks global warming is a myth.

Almost every time someone defends themselves with "almost everyone," they are wrong.

Almost everyone is never everyone. So why must there be a definitive answer here?

I believe that English professors and authors utilize the Ox because writing consecutively lends more toward description. The Ox makes sense for those long-nosed authors who don't have a fear of heights from looking down it so often at journalists.

But the Ox does not lend itself to the journalistic writing style that I call my own. Therefore, I consider to be a writer's shoehorn. If you're too lazy to put your own shoe on, is wearing shoes your biggest issue? And who owns a shoehorn anymore?

And journalists write to a fifth- to eighth-grade level. So ha!

Dave: We are not arguing about scientific facts that can be proven right or wrong based on research and the scientific method. We are talking about a simple, easy, and straightforward convention used the world over to help readers and writers better understand one another. So when everyone agrees that its use is your best bet, you can believe them.

This isn’t the 1920s. You’re not Ernest Hemingway. The current literary form of the English language is pretty set in stone. Sure, the language changes now and again to conform to contemporary trends, but on the whole we’ve figured it out. So your style isn’t anything new, and its complexities and subtle nuances aren’t so amazing that they preclude the use of a comma at the end of a list. Sorry. It doesn’t. And the people who haven broken the mold, like Hemingway, James, Wallace, and Shakespeare, did so because they were masters of the conventional.

You’re not one of these matters, I’m not, and odds are noone reading this is. Sometimes you have to play by the rules and just suck it up. Be happy that you have to eat it on something as inconsequential to daily life as the serial comma.

Matt: I don't think journalists are trying to say they're better than anyone or even that our way is more right than yours. I'm just saying that you need to be open to other ways of doing things.

So I need to follow 100% the way something was created nearly 100 years ago without questioning it or making any changes? Quite a statement to make. Do you still write on rock with a chisel? And exactly how many years away are you from calling music "noise" and yelling at kids to get off your lawn?

Dave: We are talking about a comma that, when used at the end of a list along with all the other commas in said list, unequivocally avoids confusion between each distinct item. Damn, you really are losing a lot of artistic integrity by following that damn rigorous, old school Oxford comma. Damn those old, white bastards for controlling how your unique 2017 art reads.

Please.

And if using the serial comma is 100% following the way we wrote English 100 years ago, then you need to start reading more turn of the century prose, my friend. Change and progress is most importantly about keeping what works and fixing what doesn’t. The serial comma has always worked. It will continue to always work. And not using is akin to a teenage temper tantrum, throwing up that middle finger to the world that just doesn’t understand your art, Kevin! No, we get it. This is how the world works, get over it.

Matt: Let's do a quick sample sentence and let's see how you read it compared to me:

  • A stripper, Dave, and Dan all had fun together last night.
  • A stripper, Dave and Dan all had fun together last night.

To me, the first sentence says that the strippers' name is Dave. The second sentence says the three of them had fun. 

But the Ox is needed every time right? And I'm the asshole because I think if you just change the sentence around, it'll be easier to read and more concise? Your turn.

Dave: If we are following conventional rules, and we are because we use the Oxford comma, “no comma, however, should separate a noun from a restrictive term of identification,” according to Strunk & White. So when I see this sentence:

  • A stripper, Dave, and Dan all had fun together last week.

I know that we are talking about three different people for two reasons: first, the serial comma tells us that there are three people, and, secondly, if Dave were a stripper the sentence would properly read:

  • The stripper Dave and Dan all had fun together last week.

Or one would have properly added the parenthetical commas distinguishing Dave as a stripper with which we might not know:

  • Dave, a stripper, and Dan all had fun together last week.

But there is no way, if you know your grammar, to confuse a sentence written this way:

  • A stripper, Dave, and Dan all had fun together last week.

But a sentence written the following way could, grammar tells us, only have one meaning: ‘a stripper’ is parenthetical information, leading off the sentence that describes Dave, which would make the word ‘all’ very confusing and ill advised:

  • A stripper, Dave and Dan all had fun together last night.

Final Statements

Dave: Kids, if you see someone not using the serial comma, call them out on it. Life too short to be wrong all the time. Be right. Take those bastards down a peg!

Matt: My conclusion is simple, clean and concise. Which is a perfect way to simply explain why the Ox is a waste of time that only leads to angry conversations, name calling and oversimplified history lessons. In the end, aren't we writers facing the same existential crisis? That people today do not care for the written word as they have in the past. Instead, today's readers seek out five-second videos, internet memes and gifs? We need to stand together as one united front in that battle.

P.S. Sean Spicer uses the Oxford comma.

What do you think? Is the Oxford comma necessary? Reply in the comments section below, on our Facebook page, or tweet us @WritersBone.

The Boneyard Archives

The Boneyard: Creative Comforts

Photo courtesy of Joe

Photo courtesy of Joe

Daniel Ford: During our last Friday Morning Coffee, we voiced our frustrations about substandard fiction (but also how it helped us learn about the craft).

We do a lot of reading based on books we get in from publishers, as well as fiction and nonfiction we have on our "must-read" lists. But what books or movies do you go back to when you need a comfort read? Something that restores your love of reading and primes you to read the next chunk of your list?

For me, during the last year or two, it's been Craig Johnson's Walt Longmire series. Sure, I have a soft spot for him because he was one of our first interviews, but his lugubrious, warm writing style and earthy characters are more like old friends than literary devices. There's also enough of a plot that satisfies the thriller-genre lover in me. He's really taken the place of Clive Cussler and Nelson DeMille in my reading life.  

Sean Tuohy: Normally I would spit out five titles that I return to, but right now I’m in this weird output mood. At the moment, I can’t take anything in or focus on anything new, even stuff I really like. I usually would go back to a Stephen King novel or a movie like “Bullitt” or “Die Hard.” Something I enjoy, something simple.

The other night, however, I felt like I needed to take a break from writing but the idea of reading didn’t seem to work. So I blew the dust off my copy of “The Punisher” from 2004 and popped it in. There is an amazing audio commentary from the film's writer and director, the great Jonathan Hensleigh. I have listened to it a dozen times before, but at that moment it felt perfect because I needed something familiar. Someone talking about the craft of screenwriting accompanied by flashy images.

Daniel: Oh, that's cool. I can totally see how that would be helpful and entertaining at the same time. It's not draining you like reading a screenplay or novel either; you're engaged with whatever movie you're watching. I dig it.

You worked in a video store, so you'll remember when DVDs first came out. Remember how cool it was having all of those "special features?" It blew my mind as a teenager. I think I may have enjoyed “The Lord of the Rings” special features more than the actual films. I would buy DVDs just for the extra stuff (which is why I think I ended up buying "15 Minutes").  

I need my output mode to kick on. That's the other reason I've needed a comfort read. Great fiction can inspire for sure, but there's something about tapping into the genre and authors that made you a writer in the first place that gives you a creative boost.

Sean: Don't you wish there were book commentaries? After you read something you can play it, and it’s just the author talking about how he or she came up with scenes, characters, plot.

The special features on DVDs are the best things in the world. I’ve bought movies twice because one copy had more features than the other.

I like a good creative boost. You need it, but don't you also need downtime? As a writer, our minds are always racing from plot to character to research to the small details of a scene. Don't you need a little rest?

Daniel: Exactly. You hit the nail on the head. Reading a worn copy of one of your favorite novels or watching a movie you've seen hundreds of times gives you a mental break while at the same time still sharpening your creative katana (yeah, I stole your idea!). You don't have to worry about assessing the characters or keeping track of the plot. You know what happens already! You can just enjoy whatever it is about the novel you loved—whether it's the language, characters, or setting.

I try to read a portion of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Love in the Time of Cholera every year. That book is just too beautifully written not to go back to it often. And I don't have to read it in order. I can just concentrate on all my favorite scenes without feeling like I'm missing anything. And the end of that book...man...that's how you do it. I don't think I've read a better ending. I envision that Taylor Brown's Fallen Land is going to be one of those novels for me as well. That hit me right in my sweet spot. Other books on my comfort read list: To Kill A Mockingbird (of course), The Cider House Rules by John Irving (anything by him really), Richard Russo's Nobody's Fool, Alice Walker's The Color Purple, and John Steinbeck's East of Eden.

Book commentary...I love it.

Emili Vesilind: Fabulous Nobodies by Lee Tulloch is my go-to read when I'm stressed out—I also read it every five years or so because it makes me laugh. It's a rather formulaic story told in incredible detail about a fashion-obsessed girl named Reality who lives on the Lower East Side and talks to her clothes (example: she can hear her frocks quivering in anticipation as she's about to put them on). Tulloch was a writer for fashion magazines, and she encapsulates a really specific, magical moment in New York City pop culture with this one. It never fails to make me happy.

Gary Almeter: On days when I am feeling "not so fresh" I typically revisit college anthologies and read some poems and/or a short story or two. They are familiar and provide comfort; and each subsequent reading is different from those before it. They also serve as a sort of benchmark for how I have grown as both a reader and a writer.

Sean: My ultimate comfort read is called “The Hemingway.” It’s just me drinking too much whiskey in a boat while trying to wrestle a marlin.

Dave Pezza: Take me, Sean. Anytime, anywhere.

Danny DeGennaro: I once saw Sean punch a grouper so hard that they had to call in the Coast Guard.

Gary: Once Sean and I were on a raft heading down the Mississippi River when a big ugly catfish the size of a horse jumped onto the raft. Sean dropkicked that fish so hard and so far. I've never seen anything like it.

Sean: That was an awesome summer trip, Gary. We learned two things:

  1. I don't care for catfish.
  2. Gary can build a raft out a few planks of wood and a lot of heart.

Stephanie Schaefer: Does a comfort television show count? If so, “Friends” all the way. It never gets old!

Daniel: Bradley Cooper would disagree with you, Sean:

I'd be remiss if I didn't say that "The West Wing" remains my ultimate comfort television. I could start anywhere in the seven seasons and be happy as a clam. The acting and writing is superb, of course, but each show has a different memory attached to it. Watching "Two Cathedrals" with my three best friends/roommates in New York City when none of us had much more than the clothes we wore and cheering as Jed Barlet denounces God in Latin. Bingewatching with my younger brother when I came home for holidays and cramming 22 episodes into three days. Watching with my parents during the four months I stayed with them while transitioning to Boston and telling my mother she had to watch what happened next instead of asking me questions. I recently watched the series finale, which means I get to start over (and listen to Joshua Malina's new podcast while I’m at it)!

Stephanie, that was a long-winded "yes" to your question!

Rachel Tyner: Comfort TV would be “Friends,” “New Girl,” “The Office.” Comfort books include Harry Potter (obviously!) and A Wrinkle in Time.

Lindsey Wojcik: Comfort TV is easy. “Arrested Development,” “How I Met Your Mother” (sans the series finale), “30 Rock.” Comfort read would have to be Here Is New York by E.B. White. A constant reminder of why I love living in the city even when things get rough and an illustration that the city never really changes with time. 

Join the conversation! Reply in the comments section below, tweet us @WritersBone, or drop us a line on our Facebook page!

The Bonyard Archives

15 Newsy Treasures I Found at the Newseum

By Daniel Ford

Contributing editor Stephanie Schaefer, photo essayist Cristina Cianci, and I recently traveled to Washington D.C. in search of brunch, books, and booze.

Like dutiful citizens, we also made pilgrimages to the capital city’s monuments and museums. I’ve been a news junkie since birth and a journalist by trade, so the Newseum was at the top of my list of places to visit. From the display of daily newspaper front pages to the exhibit detailing the press reaction to Lincoln’s assassination, the museum didn’t disappoint. 

Best enjoyed with a copy of coffee and a reporter’s notebook in your back pocket, these 15 newsy treasures should bring a smile to anyone with ink-stained hands.

Are You Experienced?

The “Reporting Vietnam” exhibit featured this 1960s outfit worn by guitar great Jimi Hendrix. I’m pretty sure my soul-eyed father would have ranked this on the top of his list had he been with us.

Press Pass

Unlike some of the other national museums in Washington D.C., the Newseum isn’t free. However, I felt I got my money’s worth just by standing close to the credentials journalist David Halberstam used while reporting in Vietnam from 1962 to 1964. Halberstam, who died tragically in a car accident in 2007, wrote some of the most important nonfiction books in U.S. history. His book The Best and the Brightest—a searing, in-depth investigation into the disastrous foreign policy developed toward Vietnam by the Kennedy and Johnson administrations—should be required reading for politicians and citizens alike. The same can be said for The Fifties, War in a Time of Peace: Bush, Clinton, and the Generals, and The Coldest Winter: America and the Korean War.

Cover Shoot

Cristina made the comment that she wouldn’t want to be the person in charge of hanging up all these newspapers from around the country and the globe. If anyone from the Newseum is reading this, I’m available should that person ever want to take an extended vacation.

Also, there’s a great quote by Daniel P. Moynihan above the display:

“If a person goes to a country and finds their newspapers filled with nothing but good news, there are good men in jail.”

Honest Abe

Lincoln wasn’t portrayed all that well in the press during his time in office, but he was smart enough to recognize the importance of an active, questioning press. I doubt he’d be whining about debate rules because of some “tough” questions…

History of News

According to the Newseum’s website, its News History Gallery “showcases nearly 400 historic newspaper front pages, newsbooks and magazines” from “more than 500 years of news history.” I could have spent a small eternity in this exhibit. 

Here are a few of my favorite front pages:

Captain Hemingway

It wouldn’t be a Writer’s Bone post without some mention of Ernest Hemingway. Above are his credentials during World War II. It’s worth noting that Hemingway once commandeered a hotel in France after the Allies marched into Paris. Needless to say, alcohol was served liberally. 

9/11

I remember buying all of the New York City newspapers the day after Sept. 11. I read most of The New York Times in the hallway of my high school before the first bell rang. I recall thinking that the words failed to capture the violence, tragedy, and sorrow featured in the graphic photographs on every page. Seeing all of the headlines from that day in one place gave me goose bumps and reminded me how essential media was in uniting the country in the face of that awful attack.

“Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever.”

The above is a bronze casting of Martin Luther King Jr.’s jail cell door in Birmingham, Ala. Behind this door he wrote his famous “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” which eloquently explained his civil disobedience doctrine. I reread the letter for the first time in a number of years while writing this post and it still holds truths this generation should embrace, including one of my favorite lines:

Actually, we who engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive. We bring it out in the open, where it can be seen and dealt with. Like a boil that can never be cured so long as it is covered up but must be opened with all its ugliness to the natural medicines of air and light, injustice must be exposed, with all the tension its exposure creates, to the light of human conscience and the air of national opinion before it can be cured.

Journalist Memorial

One of the more haunting aspects of this memorial commemorating journalists who have been killed reporting the news is the empty space above the photograph display. We remain a world at war and press freedom is constantly under attack from unenlightened and paranoid forces. Future deaths in the pursuit of truth are inevitable. Blaming the media has always been en vogue (and at times deserved), however, it’s grossly unfair and irresponsible for leaders of any nation to question the central role the press has in shaping an informed, engaged citizenship. Now, whenever I hear politicians or pundits rant against the “morals” and “ethics” of today’s media, I’ll think of this memorial and be reminded that the freedom to type these words doesn’t come cheap.

The Writer’s Bone News Team

I wandered away from Stephanie and Cristina toward the end of our visit and ended up on the news thanks to one of the Newseum’s staff members. Jean, whose last name I didn’t catch, led me over to The Interactive Newsroom, put a microphone in my hand, and told me to read the script. He said improvising was allowed if I felt the need. Of course, I chose a news scenario from the Civil War and thought I nailed it.

Jean was less than impressed. He complimented my voice, but said I needed more energy and charisma (and probably a shave). So he added Stephanie! She didn’t allow me to post the video, but here’s an image:

Let’s just say Jean had no complaints about that broadcast thanks to Stephanie’s bubbly personality and friendly smile.

For more posts from The Boneyard, check out our full archive.

‘Hills Like Almond Milk’

Photo courtesy of Manel on Flickr

Photo courtesy of Manel on Flickr

Editor’s Note: If you haven’t read Ernest Hemingway’s brilliant “Hills Like White Elephants,” well, what the fuck? Read it! Do it now! Okay, good, welcome back. Now you can read Alex Tzelnic satire without feeling like a heel because you blew off English class back in the day trying to impress someone who had already put in the friend zone. Enjoy!—Daniel Ford

By Alex Tzelnic

The hills across the valley were white. Not like, completely, perfectly white, like a sheet of printer paper. But like, kind of milky, though not quite two percent milk. Maybe more like almond milk. The hills were like almond milk.

The train station was between two railways. The railways were what the trains traveled on. The station was in the middle of them. It was very bright. Sunglasses were definitely an asset. The man had on a pair. So did the girl. They took them off as they parted the bead curtain and entered the train station bar. The beads kept the flies out. The beads were terrible at their job. It was hot and the flies buzzed and the man and the girl sat at a table. The express from Barcelona would come in thirty minutes. It stopped here, it picked up passengers, and then it continued on, like basically every other train that has ever existed.

“Let’s get a drink,” said the girl. She put her sunglasses on the table.

“It’s hot,” said the man.

“Let’s drink beer.”

“Dos cervezas,” said the man through the beads. “That’s ‘two beers’ in Spanish, “ he whispered to the girl.

“No shit. I took seven years of Spanish. Middle school through high school.”

“Right,” said the man.

The woman brought two glasses of beer. She put the glasses down. They were filled with the beer. The girl looked off at the hills.

“The hills look like almond milk,” she said.

“I’ve never had almond milk,” said the man.

“No, you wouldn’t have.”

“I might have,” said the man. “Just because you say I wouldn’t have doesn’t prove anything. I just haven’t needed to drink it because I haven’t declared myself allergic to everything, like everyone else these days. What’s so great about being allergic to everything anyway?”

The girl looked at the curtain. Another fly buzzed through the beads and into the bar. 

“They’ve painted something on it,” she said.

“Yes. It’s called an advertisement,” said the man. “People create them so other people will buy their pointless shit. Like almond milk.”

“What does it say?”

“It says, ‘Licorice’ in Spanish.”

“Could we try it?”

“Spanish licorice?”

The man called to the woman behind the counter for licorice. She brought the licorice.

“It tastes like licorice,” the girl said, and put the Spanish licorice down.

“That’s the way with everything,”

“Yes,” said the girl. “Everything tastes of licorice.” She stared at the stick of licorice in her hand. “You know, licorice is one of those words that when you say it over and over, it sounds like gibberish. Licorice. Gibberish is one of those words too, I guess. Gibberish. Licorice.”

“Oh, cut it out.”

“You started it,” said the girl. “I was being amused. I was having a fine time.”

“Well, let’s try and have a fine time.”

“All right. I was trying. I said the mountains look like almond milk. Wasn’t that bright?”

“Uh, yeah. That was ‘bright’,” said the man, air-quoting the word “bright” to imply that her statement was actually not bright at all.

The girl looked at the hills across the valley.

“They’re lovely hills,” she said. “They don’t really look like almond milk. I just meant the coloring of the hills in this light was like the color of almond milk.”

“No, I get it,” said the man. “I know what an analogy is.”

They drank the beer. The beer was in the glasses. The glasses were on the table. The table was in the station. The station was in Spain.

“It’s really an awful simple operation, babe,” said the man.

The girl looked at the ground the table legs rested on. The ground was also in Spain. One hundred percent Spanish ground.

“I know you wouldn’t mind it, babe. It’s really not anything. It’s all perfectly natural.”

“Then what will we do afterward?”

“We’ll be fine afterward. Afterward will be great!”

“What makes you think so?”

“That’s the only thing that bothers us. It’s the only thing that’s made us unhappy.”

The girl swatted at a fly. A Spanish fly. She wondered if a Spanish fly and an American fly could communicate, could understand one another’s buzzes.

“And you think then we’ll be all right and happy.”

“I know we will. You don’t have to be afraid. I’ve known lots of people that have done it.”

“So have I. And afterward they were all so ‘happy’,” said the girl, air-quoting the word happy to imply that actually they weren’t happy at all.

“Well,” the man said, “if you don’t want to you don’t have to. I wouldn’t have you do it if you didn’t want to. But I know it’s perfectly simple.”

“And you really want to?”

“Hell yeah.”

“And if I do it you’ll be happy and you’ll love me?”

“I love you now. You know I love you.”

“I know. But if I do it, then it will be nice again if I say things are like almond milk, and you’ll like it.”

“You know how I feel about almond milk. But yeah, basically.”

“If I do it you won’t ever worry?”

“I won’t. Because it’s perfectly simple.”

“Yeah I know,” said the girl. “You’ve mentioned that like three times.”

The girl stood up. She drained her beer glass and put it back down. She walked toward the bead curtain and peaked outside. She saw the river through the trees through the curtain, which she was peaking through, hoping not to get a Spanish fly in the eye.

“And we could have all this,” she said.

“What did you say? You’re talking out of the curtain.”

“I said we could have everything.”

“I still can’t hear you.”

“We can have everything.”

“I’m getting nothing. Just muffled sounds.”

“We can have the whole world.”

“Still nothing.”

“We can go everywhere.”

“What?”

“It’s ours.”

“Sure babe.”

The girl sat down at the table and then looked back at the licorice advertisement on the swaying beads.

“You’ve got to realize,” he said, “that I don’t want you to do it if you don’t want to. I just think all natural breasts implants would look fantastic on you.”

“Wait, what?” asked the girl.

“That’s what we were talking about, right? Breast implants?”

“Would you do something for me right now?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Would you please please please please please please stop talking?”

“What’s the problem?”

“I’m pregnant you jackass. I wasn’t talking about implants. I was talking about getting an abortion.”

The man gulped. This was a major revelation. “Oh boy,” he said.

The woman came out from behind the bar. “The train comes in five minutes,” she said.

“The train comes in five minutes,” he told the girl.

“I know how to speak elementary fucking Spanish,” she said.

The man drained his beer. “I’d better take the bags over to the other side of the station.”

He picked up the bags and carried them around to the other side of the tracks. He considered his options. He could just start running, and hide in the almond milky hills. He could fling himself in front of the train when it arrived. Or he could suck it up, like a hard-boiled character from a Hemingway story, and be a man about it. The downgrade from a boob job conversation that he thought was going rather well to an abortion conversation was immense, a tremendously tough pill to swallow, but, he thought, pregnancy will temporarily increase the girl’s breast size, so it’s almost like getting a boob job. He returned to the table.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me? My boyfriend is a moron who thinks I have a flat chest and didn’t even know I was pregnant.”

The man thought for a moment. “That has to be like, one of the top five miscommunications of all time. Like, in the history of human life on Earth. It’s almost kind of funny when you think about it.”

The girl thought about it. It wasn’t funny.

They looked at the hills.

“You know, now that you mention it,” the man said, “if I squint just so, the hills do look kind of like almond milk.”

The girl laughed a little.

“Do you feel better?”

“I feel fine,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine.”

For more posts from The Boneyard, check out our full archive.

10 Interviews With Writers We Love

By Daniel Ford

What I love most about writers is that we’re a talkative lot.

I mean, you can’t blame us. We usually work alone, huddled over a computer, notebook, typewriter, or smudgy cocktail napkin. When we’ve finally crafted something that resembles a world people might want to spend some time in, we want to return to the world by talking at length to the first human we encounter (typically a significant other who starts to rethink a lot of life decisions).

Some of the truly great writers are lucky enough to have their thoughts recorded by legitimate news, academic, and entertainment sources. I found 10 interviews with writers we love here at Writer’s Bone in order to provide our readers with an added boost of writing inspiration. Judging by the fact that I discovered way more than 10 in my search means this will likely turn into an ongoing series. Feel free to suggest your favorite writer interviews in the comments section or tweet us @WritersBone.

John Irving

Jhumpa Lahiri

Ernest Hemingway

Toni Morrison

Junot Díaz

Elmore Leonard

For posts from The Boneyard, check out our full archive.

5 Writers You Should Be Following on Twitter

By Daniel Ford

Do you know how hard it is to be a writer on Twitter? There’s no way we can get all of our brilliance out in 140 characters. Even Hemingway would have asked for a few more!

I’m kidding, of course, but writers do sweat over the words, images, and links they post more than anyone else on the social media network. Being witty and pithy are our bread and butter, so the limited characters is more of a worthwhile challenge rather than a bummer.

Here are five writers who make it look easy and deserve a follow from all aspiring wordsmiths. Feel free to share your own favorites in the comments section or tweet us @WritersBone.

Rebecca Cantrell (@rebeccacantrell)

See the below tweets from one of Writer’s Bone’s favorite authors. That should explain perfectly why you should be following her.

Yes, having a dog named Gus helps his cause, but Mayer would be worth a follow regards. Writers who want to write about government, the armed forces, and U.S. foreign policy (either fiction or non-fiction) need to put Mayer in their newsfeed ASAP. The former Special Ops. solider is always topical and has a firm grasp of all things having to do with the military. Mayer also shares plenty of links to pertinent posts that you may not have otherwise found.

I’m a fan of any writer who describes his memoir as “Eat, Pray, Love for depressed shut-ins.” I can’t wait to crack into Whitehead’s The Noble Hustle: Poker, Beef Jerky, and Death, but until then, I’ll be satisfied reading his witty tweets. We look forward to stalking him to come on the podcast in the near future (don’t say we didn’t warn you Colson).

I like following author Steve Kozeniewski for a variety of reasons. It never fails to make me smile when I see the name Braineater Jones, he uses the word fart a lot, and he takes the time to thank reviewers and people who have interviewed him. Plus, his Twitter avatar deserves to go in the Hall of Fame.

Like we weren’t going to include our podcast partner in crime? Richardson is always funny, relevant, and informative. He’s at his best when he’s ranting about Amtrak, lousy screenwriting, and Hollywood award shows.

For posts from The Boneyard, check out our full archive.

5 Gems I Unearthed While Packing Up My Books

Essential reading material

Essential reading material

By Daniel Ford

Since I’m moving for the umpteenth time at the end of this month, I had to once again organize and pack up all of my books.

I quickly discovered that I have way more books than I do articles of clothing. Sadly, the majority of my literary collection is also more stylish and up-to-date.

As always, I unearthed several gems that deserve a more prominent place on my future bookshelf. I’ve only completed one night’s worth of packing, so I’m sure I’ll find much more. However, in the meantime, enjoy these five that you might want to consider adding to your collection.

The Anchor Atlas of World History Volume I

The first volume of The Atlas of World History by Hermann Kinder and Werner Hilgemann is endlessly fascinating. This is essential reading for any map nut. The maps detailing the Roman Empire’s rise and fall are worth much more than the $1.99 you’ll spend on a paperback edition.

One of my favorite lines is when Nero becomes emperor. “Nero’s early years were happy ones for Rome.” Things got a little toasty after that.

Why Sinatra Matters

Pete Hamill brilliantly sums up why Frank Sinatra was such a force in popular culture. It also reminds me of the story my grandmother used to tell me when I was growing up. She said she was a manager in an office in New York City and one of the employees told her she needed a day off to go see Frank Sinatra in concert. My grandmother said she couldn’t give her the whole day. “Fine, I’ll just quit,” the woman said, according to my grandmother. She got the day off. “She was dead serious,” my grandmother would tell me. “She was seeing Frank whether she had a job the next day or not.”

Here’s one of my favorite passages from the book:

“To begin with, the hands of the clock had passed twelve, and he was in a large city, specifically the hard, wounded metropolis of New York. For decades now, Sinatra had defined the glamour of the urban night. It was both a time and a place; to inhabit the night, to be one of its restless creatures, was a small act of defiance, a shared declaration of freedom, a refusal to play by all these conventional rules that insisted on men and women rising at seven in the morning, leaving for work at eight, and falling exhausted into bed at ten o’clock that night. In his music, Sinatra gave voice to all those who believed that the most intense living begins at midnight: show people, bartenders, and sporting women; gamblers, detectives, and gangsters; small winners and big losers; artists and newspapermen. If you loved someone who did not love you back, you could always walk into a saloon, put your money on the bar, and listen to Sinatra.”

A Farewell to Arms

If you don’t have Ernest Hemingway on your bookshelf, I don’t want to know you. If you ever question whether or not you’ve written something good, pick up and read anything he wrote and compare. You haven’t. Keep writing until it’s great. It’ll never be Hemingway great, but at least you’ll be striving for perfection and not a cash advance.

There’s no way I can choose a favorite line. Just read it all.

Debate on the Constitution

You don’t have to be a lawyer to appreciate the debate our Founding Fathers engaged in while forming our current state of government. These were impassioned men to be sure, but they debated ideas and not sound clips. Issues were important, not semantics like whose flag pin is bigger. Disagreement is essential to democracy, but so is compromise and creating solutions. Ben Franklin didn’t necessarily agree with the document that came out of the Constitutional Convention in 1787, but agreed to endorse it. He also expressed “a Wish, that every Member of the Convention, who may still have objections to it, would with me on this Occasion doubt a little of his own Infallibility, and make manifest our Unanimity, put his Name to this Instrument.”

That’s a hell of a leap of faith he was asking for. More than 220 years later, we’re still trying to figure out whether or not we have it right.

The Wit and Wisdom of Mark Twain

This was given to me by a former colleague on my 25th birthday. I consult it daily.

“When I am king, they shall not have bread and shelter only, but also teachings out of books, for a full belly is little worth where the mind is starved.”—from The Prince and the Pauper

Bonus

The first time someone referred to me as an author. Not bad.

For posts from The Boneyard, check out our full archive.

Judge A Book By Its Cover: 12 Book Jackets We Love

Admit it; it’s hard not to judge a book by its cover.

Especially if it looks like this:

Egads!

Yes, what’s written under the hood is more important than fancy artwork, but there’s no better feeling than a book cover that captures your imagination and then the words that follow blow your mind even more.

We asked the Writer’s Bone crew what their favorite book covers are and here’s what they came up with:

Daniel Ford:

I know there’s a more iconic cover of this book, but this is the one my older brother put in my hands and kicked my love of reading into hyper drive.

This isn’t only one of my favorite covers; it’s one of my favorite short story collections of all time. And that’s exactly how men would be without women; just beating the hell out of each other in a boxing ring for no reason.

Groovy.

Perfect comic book cover. Perfect comic book period.

Stephanie Schaefer:

I loved Dr. Seuss growing up and my mom gifted me this book for my high school graduation. The cartoon on the cover kind of reminds me of the stage of life I’m at now. He looks a little nervous to take a wrong turn, but the pastel colors are comforting. Essentially, he’s the quintessential 20-something.

Brightly colored and mysteriously symbolic, it doesn’t get much better than Fitzgerald’s flapper-esque cover.

The rainbow fish had sparkly, shimmery scales. Need I say more? #alliteration

Dave Pezza:

There is something about the simplicity of The Hobbit and his adventure and what he idealizes that makes this cover. Some beauty that’s deeper than the aesthetically pleasing vista of Middle Earth.

Kind of random, and not even a real favorite of mine, but for some reason I love the cover art.

Lindsey Wojcik:

The photo of the Los Angeles skyline covered by smog in the sepia image on the book's cover immediately caught my eye. Admittedly, I am drawn to cityscapes, but the book's title almost gets lost in the haze, adding to the intrigue. The lightness on the cover is strikingly different than the book's dark tone, yet the image begs the reader to see through the smog and continue reading.

Emili Vesilind:

It was totally intriguing to me as a child—the idea of taking colorful little tubes to feel one way or another. Dolls!

Catherine Kearns (Daniel’s college cohort, future Writer's Bone contributor, and mother of two):

On trips to Upstate New York my grandmother would bring a chair down to the pond to fish. She was never able to carry it up since her arms would be tired, so she would leave it down there and I always remember looking at the chair on its own from the deck. It was nice to see the chair in this cover, even if she wasn't in it.

For posts from The Boneyard, check out our full archive.

10 Memes Every Writer Should Love

Still nursing a hangover?

Pop a couple of aspirin, drink a Bloody Mary, listen to our St. Patrick's Day podcast, and enjoy these 10 memes that the Writer’s Bone crew found at the bottom of their Guinness pints.

We know memes aren’t the greatest forms of communication ever invented; however, we freely admit that we love them and share them on our social media channels as often as possible.

Feel free to share your favorites in the comments section or tweet us @WritersBone.

For posts from The Boneyard, check out our full archive.