"I always wanted to write something illustrated, and the Details strip finally gave me the opportunity"
About this Quote
There’s a sly humility in the way Rick Moody frames ambition as a long-held itch finally scratched by an editorial assignment. “I always wanted” sounds like the private, slightly embarrassing desire an “important” novelist is supposed to outgrow. Yet he keeps it, then treats the “Details strip” not as a step down from literature but as the enabling constraint that makes the wish respectable. The line flatters the magazine format while quietly admitting what the high-literary pipeline often denies: writers crave different tools, different speeds, different publics.
The key word is “illustrated.” For a novelist associated with voice, interiority, and the dense textures of postmodern American life, illustration signals a flirtation with immediacy and collaboration. It suggests wanting the sentence to share power with an image - to let the visual do some of the narrative labor, to court the gag, the tableau, the icon. Moody is hinting at a restlessness with the solitary authority of prose: a desire for a hybrid form where meaning is negotiated between text and drawing, writer and artist, page and glance.
“Finally” carries the subtext of institutional gatekeeping. It implies that the opportunity wasn’t purely a matter of personal will; it required a venue willing to treat a “strip” as legitimate literary space. The context is a late-20th/early-21st century media ecosystem where magazines and branded platforms briefly served as patrons for experimentation, letting literary writers test smaller, sharper forms. Moody’s sentence works because it’s both confession and soft critique: art doesn’t only bloom in books; sometimes it needs a glossy assignment to give permission.
The key word is “illustrated.” For a novelist associated with voice, interiority, and the dense textures of postmodern American life, illustration signals a flirtation with immediacy and collaboration. It suggests wanting the sentence to share power with an image - to let the visual do some of the narrative labor, to court the gag, the tableau, the icon. Moody is hinting at a restlessness with the solitary authority of prose: a desire for a hybrid form where meaning is negotiated between text and drawing, writer and artist, page and glance.
“Finally” carries the subtext of institutional gatekeeping. It implies that the opportunity wasn’t purely a matter of personal will; it required a venue willing to treat a “strip” as legitimate literary space. The context is a late-20th/early-21st century media ecosystem where magazines and branded platforms briefly served as patrons for experimentation, letting literary writers test smaller, sharper forms. Moody’s sentence works because it’s both confession and soft critique: art doesn’t only bloom in books; sometimes it needs a glossy assignment to give permission.
Quote Details
| Topic | Writing |
|---|
More Quotes by Rick
Add to List


