Colin Hamilton

@colinhamilton.bsky.social

Occasional writer (The Discarded, The Thirteenth Month, A Life of Letters). Collector of imaginary books, library lore, and other miscellany. Sucker for the spurious glamor of certain voids. Practicing dyslexic.

O’Connor was asked if, with all those freaks, hogs, preachers, chickens, and southernisms, she was a regional writer. Her answered: The distinction that matters isn’t knowledge of the world but knowledge of the self. The price of self-knowledge is being an exile everywhere, even if frozen in place.

Gerard Beirne@gerardbeirne.bsky.social · 2mo ago

“Fiction is about everything human and we are made out of dust, and if you scorn getting yourself dusty, then you shouldn’t try to write fiction. It’s not a grand enough job for you.” Flannery O’Connor

Going through hundreds of letters received in the late 80s, early 90s; everything stops by 1997 with email. Amazed by the effort we made to reach each other, to say something, to stay connected across countries and oceans. Lots of people I've since lost, but not all. Grateful for having a past.

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“There is a period when it is clear that you have gone wrong but you continue. Sometimes there is a luxurious amount of time before anything bad happens.” - Jenny Holzer Sums up being a kid of the 1970s and 80s.