![]() ![]() I find people ask me about West Virginia very rarely, and when they do I’m like, “Oh, it sucks and it’s been ruined by corporate greed and politicians.” It’s not particularly beautiful where I live. PHILLIPS-HORST: I was imagining something really authentically West Virginia, with squirrels running in the background and dad on the porch with the shotgun. OYLER: I’m in West Virginia, so this is the trash room. STEVEN PHILLIPS-HORST: Very nice to meet you. To mark the occasion, Oyler spoke with me from her parents’ home in West Virginia, where we discussed forbidden words, bad reviews, and trolling your audience. Covering material relevant to tri-coastal freelancers (Gawker, autofiction, speaking English in Berlin), it reads like a vape-smoke filled teacher’s lounge for writers, with its meta-references to being a book (the final chapter is titled “TK KICKER”-editor parlance for “poignant little ending pending.”) If you, as I do, endeavor for others to read your occasional essays and come away thinking “wow, what a hilarious genius!” then you will appreciate the intimacy on hand. ![]() The people’s critic now has her own essay collection, No Judgment, a flirtatious meditation on criticism itself. That Oyler had the temerity to slaughter a sacred cow was a sign she was in the trenches with the rest of us. Tolentino was a writer I felt got too much credit for making facile observations, and I whispered as much to other writers I knew. I first discovered Lauren Oyler, as many did, when I read her scathing review of Jia Tolentino’s essay collection Trick Mirror in LRB. Lauren Oyler, photographed by Carleen Coulter.
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