Cups of coffee in the morning, adrenaline-fueled emails in the afternoon, solitary preparations for threesomes at night.įollowing the vogueish new evasive style, much of Lockwood’s novel avoids proper nouns, and she does not name her subject. She made New Hampshire sound like a place you wanted to go: an endless orifice among black ice, buzzing like an OPEN 24 HOURS sign. This sex diarist wore pigtails and had eyes like blue sequins and lacked inhibition entirely. One of the books was a sex diary, which exerted the particular frontier charm of internet writing before 9/11. In Patricia Lockwood’s No One Is Talking About This, the narrator describes flipping through a stack of books at her sister’s house.
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