Biking through a post-virus-apocalypse Paris was surreal. The streets were eerily empty and the Chanel and Gucci ads that had plastered the kiosks and bus stops were replaced by health advisories and public thanks to medical professionals.

A Coronavirus novel, in theory, brings a quotidian narrative to epidemic literature. This is not a story of a select few but rather of everyone; not only lives but livelihoods.

The reasons why my own family chose to immigrate illegally are so complex and personal. How could someone who has not shared this fear or uncertainty know our estrangement, let alone write about it?

Fiction has always been a laboratory to study the human condition but with the advancements of technology and science becoming more commonplace, fiction has become a simulation runner to experiment on the plausible consequences of these achievements.

Lillian Ross does not reveal how the adaptation of The Red Badge of Courage will pan out until practically the very end, at which point, the plot reasserts itself and what had seemed a sideshow attraction rears into view as the true climax of Picture.

Futuristic sexual encounters aside, we’re constantly betraying our partners and friends with technology. In any interaction, a phone is liable to appear with or without explanation—shifting a dual-sided conversation into a regrettable love triangle.

What would happen if all works in all languages were universally readable? New forms of thinking, new colors for the literary palette, and ultimately, the possibility of atypical influences. To put an old trope on its head, everything has been invented, but not every invention has been discovered.

The more the French view me as part of their country, the more I see myself as belonging here with them. With my blonde hair and daily scarves, I look the part. It’s easier to accept superficial validation such as compliments on my accent and cultural ease from the French than it is to reconcile my fading American patriotism.

"I loved that, no matter where the characters went underground, they came out into the same space..I could see a double-paged spread showing a huge old fashioned attic — full of the different entry points. To me, the story said, whatever you think you know about the rules of life, forget it, ain’t necessarily true."