"After he read my book, my editor grew uneasy. He told me my prose was limping, like a wounded animal, sideways to the corner of a room. That I had a 'reputation' to uphold with you, my students. That you expected—and deserved—a clear, useful roadmap to improve your writing. That I should keep my 'diatribes' and all the 'unsavory' details of my personal life 'out of it.' I don’t think he understands that when you are teaching Style, everything in your life becomes relevant. And while I’ll be the first to admit there were certain things that happened during the writing of this manual—the emergency dental work, the fire—that were not planned, I would be doing my students the ultimate disservice if I didn’t do my best to explain how they too were part of My Style. These intrusions shape the very line of a phrase. Frankly, my editor might just be the type of person who is too stubborn or afraid to admit that as a so-called expert they can still learn a lot about writing well. I’ve seen this happen before in my classes. Sometimes people aren’t actually confused by my way of teaching, but are simply faced with the bitter truth—they have been standing in the wrong room all along, and only just noticed the door." — Lia Lowenthal

Avulsion is published by Ligature Press and designed by Studio Mathias Clottu.