Happy Birthday, Lidia Yuknavitch, born 18 June 1963
- Words carry oceans on their small backs.
- I’d say art is with you. All around you. I’d say when there doesn’t seem to be anyone else, there is art. I’d say you can love art how you wish to be loved. And I’d say art is a lifeline to the rest of us – we are out here. You are not alone. There is nothing about you that scares us. There is nothing unlovable about you, either.
- Though I consider The Chronology of Water to be an anti-memoir for very precise reasons, it is an art form, and thus as open to “critique” as any other art form. Memoir has a form, formal strategies, issues of composition and craft, style, structure, all the elements of fiction or nonfiction or painting or music or what have you.
- We live in an exciting time where form is concerned. My sincerest hope is that more people will notice this and agree to play and invent – the only way to not succumb to the complacency and market-driven schlock of the present tense is to continually interrogate it from the inside out.
- Your life doesn’t happen in any kind of order… It’s all a series of fragments and repetitions and pattern formations. Language and water have this in common.
- I am not alone. Whatever else there was or is, writing is with me.
- I’ve noticed over the past years of my writerly life that women writers in particular are discouraged in cleverly disguised forms from including the intellectual in their creative material way more than you would believe.
Lidia Yuknavitch is an American writer, teacher, and editor. She is the author of the memoir The Chronology of Water, and the novels The Small Backs of Children and Dora: A Headcase.