Kate Braverman
Kate Braverman
Kate Bravermanis an American novelist, short story writer, and poet. She was raised in Los Angeles, which is the focus for much of her writing...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
CountryUnited States of America
children talking clothes
Like I'm dragging bundles of old clothes? I'm carrying artifacts that breathe fire. I'm talking about a language of smoke. These are three-dimensional creatures that can mate. I'd no more leave them go by the side of the trail than I would my child. I'll carry them until someone amputates my arms.
mourning historical citizens
As a citizen of the post-historical variety, I am in continual mourning and prepared for worse.
men biographies defined
Women are defined by their biography, and men are sacrosanct from their biography.
dimes ability
I have a great ability to improvise verbally and I am very funny on a dime.
country poetry world
In communist countries, you execute your poets. In the free world, the poets execute themselves.
book care finished
I knew a book of mine was finished when I was in intensive care.
writing thinking giving
writing is about doing something very close to the bone. It's about shocking yourself. When I write, I like to make myself cry, laugh - I like to give myself an experience. I see a lot of writing out there that's very safe. But if you're not scaring yourself, why would you think that you'd be scaring anybody else? If you're not coming to a revelation about your place in the universe, why would you think anyone else would?
writing sound logic
I write a lot by sound. One sound leads me to another. These sounds aren't random; they have their own logic.
ifs
If you can be anything else but a writer, be it.
love marijuana men
They will say I smoked cigarettes and marijuana, cursed hoarse as a crow in all my languages, and loved morphine and Demerol and tequila and pulque, women and men. I will shrug my illusion of shoulders and answer that I am a water woman, not a vessel, not something you can sail or charter. I am instead the tributary, the river, the fluid source, and the sea itself. I am all her rainy implications. And what do you, with your rusted compass, know of love?
writing illumination flare-up
Whenever I get lost in a novel I just throw a poem in. What it does is flare up, and it's so illuminated that I'm able to see where to go. I write between these illuminations.
elements revolution flutes
The Peruvian flute music is . . . cool. In this music, they have not yet invented the industrial revolution that leads to excessive punctuality or the failed experiment they call the nuclear family. This is the music of elements, untarnished, unrehearsed.
writing heart hunting
Writing is like hunting. There are brutally cold afternoons with nothing in sight, only the wind and your breaking heart. Then the moment when you bag something big. The entire process is beyond intoxicating.
garden world birth
To be one woman, truly, wholly, is to be all women. Tend one garden and you will birth worlds.