“Writing that is best experienced as something felt rather than as something understood requires compression. Compression in writing should not entail a squeezing together, not compacting, as we do with trash, so that all of the trash is still there but in a smaller package. Compression in writing should be a distillation, a simmering away until the broth is reduced in volume but doubled in richness, until the juice sweetens into a syrup. Compression of trash requires brute force. Compression in writing, like compression in cooking, requires a delicate hand and a watchful eye, a refinement of the tongue, and a tender brutality of the heart.” — Randall Silvis
