Irina Dumitrescu

“To know a language you need more than grammar and vocabulary; a language gains its life from memories. It is woven from all the voices you ever knew, from the daily noise of the street, from the quiet melodies of the authors you read, from jokes and songs and curses. I did not know this language.”

What do you do when all productivity hacks, parenting tips, and writing tricks lead to the same outcome — a total, pandemic-induced inability to focus?

“Dirty words tell us plenty about power. They show us who can speak, enjoy or censor language. They also point to those who are violated, brutalised, silenced. But there is a playful side to obscenity.”

Rules and rigidity are anathema to writing style and the kind of exciting, surprising language that make literature so rewarding. But writing rules also allow for clear communication and logical arguments. So where is the middle ground?

An examination of celebrity culture, in all its indulgent, enduring, addictively hollow glory.

You never stop learning how to read — probably because you also never stop forgetting how to read.

Kitchen karma comes for Irina Dumitrescu when her son turns into the picky eater she used to be.