There's a Place for You
A lifelong interest of mine has been the question of space. How we need it, fear it, want it, find it, make it, make peace with it, measure it, defend it, go to war for it, give it away, deny it, seduce it, cultivate it, think and feel because of it; whether it’s in our minds, our hearts, on the page. It’s a subject that happily sustains enduring conversations with architects, artists and musicians. Not to mention physicists. Philosophers too. (Consider how the construct of Space and Good might very well converge; let’s discuss!)
At the start of this year, I wrote a short story called “There’s a Place for You.” I designed it for The New Yorker. The New Yorker passed. As I’m now in the midst of a new novel, rather than redesign the story for another publication — something I’m not entirely convinced is possible — I’ve decided to release it online.
So here’s that New Yorker story you’ll never read in The New Yorker.
Find your columns, grow your hair, the light you sought was never in your eyes.
Tear your temples down.
— Mark Z. Danielewski
This is a digital file; PDF.
A lifelong interest of mine has been the question of space. How we need it, fear it, want it, find it, make it, make peace with it, measure it, defend it, go to war for it, give it away, deny it, seduce it, cultivate it, think and feel because of it; whether it’s in our minds, our hearts, on the page. It’s a subject that happily sustains enduring conversations with architects, artists and musicians. Not to mention physicists. Philosophers too. (Consider how the construct of Space and Good might very well converge; let’s discuss!)
At the start of this year, I wrote a short story called “There’s a Place for You.” I designed it for The New Yorker. The New Yorker passed. As I’m now in the midst of a new novel, rather than redesign the story for another publication — something I’m not entirely convinced is possible — I’ve decided to release it online.
So here’s that New Yorker story you’ll never read in The New Yorker.
Find your columns, grow your hair, the light you sought was never in your eyes.
Tear your temples down.
— Mark Z. Danielewski
This is a digital file; PDF.
A lifelong interest of mine has been the question of space. How we need it, fear it, want it, find it, make it, make peace with it, measure it, defend it, go to war for it, give it away, deny it, seduce it, cultivate it, think and feel because of it; whether it’s in our minds, our hearts, on the page. It’s a subject that happily sustains enduring conversations with architects, artists and musicians. Not to mention physicists. Philosophers too. (Consider how the construct of Space and Good might very well converge; let’s discuss!)
At the start of this year, I wrote a short story called “There’s a Place for You.” I designed it for The New Yorker. The New Yorker passed. As I’m now in the midst of a new novel, rather than redesign the story for another publication — something I’m not entirely convinced is possible — I’ve decided to release it online.
So here’s that New Yorker story you’ll never read in The New Yorker.
Find your columns, grow your hair, the light you sought was never in your eyes.
Tear your temples down.
— Mark Z. Danielewski
This is a digital file; PDF.
