Zampanò only wrote “heater.” The word “water” back there [in The Navidson Record]—I added that. Now there’s an admission, eh?
Hey, not fair, you cry. Hey, hey, fuck you, I say.1
For Mark Danielewski, perhaps the central burden of contemporary authorship is to reaffirm the novel as a relevant-indeed newly relevantcultural form:
Books don’t have to be so limited. They can intensify informational content and experience. Multiple stories can lie side by side on the page.… Words can also be colored and those colors can have meaning. How quickly pages are turned or not turned can be addressed. Hell, pages can be tilted, turned upside down, even read backwards.… But here’s the joke. Books have had this capacity all along.… Books are remarkable constructions with enormous possibilities.… But somehow the analogue powers of these wonderful bundles of paper have been forgotten. Somewhere along the way, all its possibilities were denied. I’d like to see that perception change. I’d like to see the book reintroduced for all it really is.2