Michael Davis' site dedicated to writing, travel, and commentary.
To the uninitiated, art exists in a dimension far removed from the practicality of commerce. It’s regarded primarily as something delightful to be consumed, like discovering a pleasant truffle in the forest. At best, it’s seen as a clever diversion or as an expression of social idiosyncracies, stereotypes, and moods. How it arrives and the... Continue Reading →
I loved Roger Ebert’s wit and lack of pretention. His movie reviews in The Chicago Sun-Times often struck a delicate balance between honesty and generosity. He had a great sense of film history and he’d contextualize Hollywood stinkers in ways that made them interesting as artifacts of a silly and unforgiving industry. Over time, I... Continue Reading →
I once drove a forklift in a magazine distribution warehouse for a living and got to know romance, action adventure, and western paperbacks of the 1980s and 90s fairly well, since we handled a high volume of grocery store book sales. I read the cast-offs that got damaged in the sorting process on my breaks. ... Continue Reading →
One of the many reasons I love pulp fiction from the early 20th century is that writers like HP Lovecraft can have a line like, "the moon was gleaming vividly over the primeval ruins" (from "The Nameless City") and actually get away with it. If I wrote something like "gleaming vividly," my teachers would have... Continue Reading →
If you’re a writer, you’ll live your life not knowing if you’re any good. And you’ll die not knowing. I think John Berryman said that. After Phil Levine published his first book of poems, people said, yeah, but can you do it again? Then he did it again. Then they said, yeah, but have... Continue Reading →
Read my latest in Splice Today: https://www.splicetoday.com/politics-and-media/jonathan-franzen-can-t-solve-climate-change-for-anyone-who-matters
A fortune teller in Northern California looked at my palm and said, “You’re going to lead an unnaturally long life.” Then she slid my money back across the table and added, “I feel bad for you.” This was in 2008 or 2009. My memory of the year is less distinct than the mournful expression on... Continue Reading →
There was something evil in the glow of the room's blue lights. I felt the weight of the man on top of me. He could no longer move. His eyes were closed. I stared long into his face. I realized that I wanted him. I wanted the passion he had until a moment ago. I... Continue Reading →
Read it here: https://www.splicetoday.com/moving-pictures/more-than-just-a-familiar-formula
(or: Footage of a Canadian Treeline in a Time of Goats and Perdition) I watched it last night and was going to write a review entitled, “Why Snakes on a Plane is Better than The Witch” but I realized there is no comparison. Snakes on a Plane has snakes, Samuel Jackson, and a plane. The Witch... Continue Reading →
The Writing Expedition 