Katherine Dunn
Katherine Dunn
Katherine Karen Dunnwas an American best-selling novelist, journalist, voice artist, radio personality, book reviewer, and poet from Portland, Oregon. She is best known for the novel Geek Love. She was also a prolific writer on boxing...
book thinking use
What I think happens, and that you have to acknowledge though, is that a director uses a book as a launching pad for his own work and that's always very flattering.
thinking important going-away
I think that it's really important to go away and come back.
thinking research fertile
I think genetic research is a fascinating and fertile area.
writing thinking people
But I think everybody should write. I think those people with stories who don't write should be stomped on.
thinking odds giving
Giving Papa time to think, as Arty put it, was like pumping random rounds into a fireworks factory. The odds favored dramatic results.
thinking coincidence getting-old
It is coincidence, I decide, and I am getting old and batty, thinking the universe revolves around me.
book thinking animation
But the animation has become very good, and I think that a movie is not a book, and a book is not a movie.
american-novelist college high portland school suburb
But I went to high school in a Portland suburb and went to college here.
american-novelist explore giving haunted notion outside responsibility second source structure
The second is the structure and source of cults. They have always haunted me, and I wanted to explore the fundamental notion of giving up responsibility to an outside power.
iron parent sometimes
Sometimes just looking at [my parents] I wanted to bash their heads with a tire iron. Not to kill them, just to wake them up.
athlete training limits
Training of female athletes is so new that the limits of female possibility are still unknown.
feels courses
Oh, of course, I always feel unconfident.
innocence forgetfulness stamina
We survive until, by sheer stamina, we escape into the dim innocence of our own adulthood and its forgetfulness.
beautiful hurt earthquakes
I remember, in hot floods, the way he slept, still as death, with his face washed flat, stony as a carved tomb and exquisite. His weakness and his ravening bitter needs were terrible, and beautiful, and irresistible as an earthquake. He scalded or smothered anyone he needed, but his needing and the hurt that it caused me were the most life I have ever had. Remember what a poor thing I have always been and forgive me.