Arshi Ibsan Radifah

Where Babitz is like the intimidating older sister you could only listen to in an obsessed quiet, Ephron feels more like a friend translating my internal monologue into the perfect words.

I was born too late for CBGB’s, too offline for MySpace and too far away from dive bars. I came to all of it two entire decades late so The Strokes wasn’t exactly the soundtrack to my reckless twenties but a band I happened to stumble into during a mid-pandemic spiral.

October 30, 2003, Chuck Palahniuk sits across Conan O’Brien on his late-night talk-show to promote his new novel, Diary (Doubleday, 2003), but the conversation is steered to something else that happened earlier over the summer.

Happy Hour greeted me like a warm hug. This is definitely one of the sweetest books I’ve read this year, and possibly one of the sweetest books I will ever read.

The best part of this book is perhaps the fact that all the weird, bonkers cultish stuff just happens with no rhyme or reason to it.

A review of Ottessa Moshfegh's 'My Year of Rest and Relaxation' (Penguin Press, 2023)

Review of "Everything I Know About Love: A Memoir" (Penguin, 2018)

If you’re someone who tends to pay attention to details, you will find a CliffsNotes for The Bell Jar on the coffee table next to Heather Chandler’s dead body in the 1988 cult classic,