Tim Barrus Blog
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The Better To Eat You With
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On the way to Granny’s house…
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The Boat Ramp
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I left on the same boat ramp I came in on. You are a long way away.
If you want it, I’m gonna be va va voom voom
If you got it, you got it, you got that boom boom
If you want it, I’m gonna be va va voom…
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BOLIVIA
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Dirt Bikes. La Paz.
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His Pajamas
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Photography: Tim Barrus
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Gold Coins For The Boatman
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ArtPhotography: Tim Barrus
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Readers in South America
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Americans would not recognize a South American adolescent as a reader. We cling to our precious stereotypes. Even if those stereotypes have no relationhip to the real world. Lately, I have been stunned to discover South American readers who have have found my books. And they read them. Many speak…
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Tim Barrus, The New York Times
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I live in Appalachia. Our people have dogs. Because they help keep us safe.
Because we are afraid. For many of us, dogs are all we have.
It’s difficult for people who live in parts of the country where things at least sometimes work. Can you imagine a place where…
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The Four Seasons
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GOING ROGUE
The private sun was slipping quietly across the private timeline of the bed. The space-time sex-continuum. This would require emergency room service. All Georgetown beds have a timeline. All covens have a timeline. A private timeline with a private jet to whisk us all away. The Four Seasons…
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Tim Barrus, New York Times
THE SITE OF THE NOOSE.
The choices are clear. The history is clear. The darkness we live in has become very clear to eyes that have grown accustomed to stumbling. To listening to hate, the sight of the noose, and walking into walls. I cannot think of one good thing…
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Tim Barrus, New York Times
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You never listen. It’s not over until it’s over. No future. Only probabilities. A numerical drowning in a game of chance.
The house always wins. Which is why when someone wins big at slots, the bells and lightshows all go off hysterically to prove to onlookers that the house can…