![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Reader, I am here to tell you: I felt like I was in B. It was as a total stranger, though, that I came to Kim Fu’s work last year, when I received an early copy of Lesser Known Monsters of the 21 st Century from her editor at Tin House, who, as far as I can tell, simply had the hunch I would like it. It is a high I experience much less commonly as an adult, not because fewer books are necessary to me but because fewer of them come as surprises. There I had been, a twelve-year-old kid in his windbreaker and blue jeans, walking around thinking he was complete, and then along came something that revealed a space inside me, a space it both created and rushed in to fill, and now I truly was complete, yet disrupted inside, stirring. ![]() It was one of the great shopping-mall highs of my childhood to stand at those wooden shelves, select a paperback by a total stranger, read a page or two, and realize that a book that had been nowhere on the map of my life, not even as a wave-mark at the borders, was absolutely necessary to it. Sleeplessness is the Insomniac’s Only Friend ![]()
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