Imaginative writing has always been a solitary and indeed a somewhat antisocial activity. Apprenticeship existed, no doubt, but it was an apprenticeship to books and not to living masters of the craft. — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
To me, there is nothing more soothing than the song of a mosquito that can't get through the mesh to bite you. — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
Jeremy Popkin's collection of first-person narratives of the Haitian Revolution is an extremely valuable work, accessible, sound and intelligent. I only wish such a… — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
Since the 1960s, exile for Haitians is a condition that ends only to begin again. — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
“Nothing could have been prevented. But still you know that somehow something wasn't watching. Something let attention lapse, releasing everything that follows, as the… — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
I had been an abject fan of Robert Stone since the early eighties, when I borrowed a copy of 'A Flag for Sunrise' to… — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
John Fahey, thought during his lifetime to be possibly more than a little crazy, was the author of some thirty albums of gnomically introverted… — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
In TheColorful Apocalypse, Greg Bottoms explores the frontier between inspiration and psychosis with the expressive power, the passionate fervor, and the faithfully unflinching honesty… — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
Haiti was founded by African slaves who rose against their European masters, had a revolution, and created a new state. There is no other… — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
Edwidge Danticat's prose has a Chekhovian simplicity--an ability to state the most urgent truths in a measured and patiently plain style that gathers a… — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
I have always had a mystical attitude toward inspiration. That's my nature. — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
“We don't kill for no reason. As he spoke, the hummingbird pulsed between his palms like a heartbeat, whirred into the air and flew.” — Madison Smartt Bell Copy Share Image
