The verdicts have finally been delivered in the Bombay blasts case. Most of the guilty are in jail. But the bombings had been in response to the earlier riots, in which three times more people were killed. Why have those who were guilty of inciting violence and murder during the riots gone unpunished?

Sign a petition here.

“My father came toward me with the rifle.”
Why he wrote the last line: This last line is in fact the first line of the novel I’m working on, The Wilding.
Every time I boot up my computer and hunch over the keyboard for a long, bloody stretch of writing, I review what I wrote the day prior to buff away any scuff marks and plug in to the voice’s current. It’s my way of getting warmed up, the equivalent of cracking my knuckles.
Almost inevitably, my eyes wander to the most important line, the first line. I am obsessed with first lines. I rewrite them over and over. I collect them and carry them around in a pocket of my mind to withdraw every now and then and look at, like precious stones, a lucky feather, a Polaroid of my ex-girlfriend naked and straddling a motorcycle.

From Esquire, via TEV

P.S. I like Benjamin Percy’s photo because it suggests to me that even though it is sweltering outside winter is almost here.