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n-writing, cheeseburger-eating, patriarchy-smashing...." /><"http://katiecoyle.tumblr.com/page/5" />
Author of the VIVIAN APPLE series. Fiction-writing, cheeseburger-eating, patriarchy-smashing. Twitter/Instagram: @krcoyle
Install Theme

Andy Lillich: You write the very best boyfriends ever in my opinion. Who do you model these characters on? Friends? Relatives? Fantasies? And do you have someone you rely on to give you “reality checks” on the things your boyfriends say and do? And where is the best place to look for these kinds of boyfriends in real life?

Rainbow Rowell: Thank you! This is the best compliment!

I don’t base my male characters on specific people, but I’ve been married for 15 years. I have three brothers, a great stepdad, close male friends and coworkers. And I think most of the men in my life are kind and romantic enough to be in my books. (My husband is too good. I have to tone his qualities down for them to be believable.)

I really believe in good men. I think that men can be sensitive and romantic; I think they care about love, finding love. So it comes naturally for me to write about them.

As for where to find a guy like that—my strongest romantic relationships have grown out of friendships. With people who already liked and respected me, and vice versa.

The only dating advice I have to offer is: Expect the guys in your life to be kind and respectful. Don’t make excuses for garbagey behavior—"Oh, that’s just what guys are like.“ It isn’t true. Expect them to be good, treat them like they’re good. And if they’re garbagey, move on. Don’t let your world get cluttered up with people who think they have some gender-based right to be awful.

Rainbow Rowell (via bethanyactually)

(Source: unsunglory, via siminib)

“A roadtrip mix for Vivian, Harp, and Peter. For when there’s nothing to distract them from Rapture-y, apocalypse thoughts. A little defiant, a little sentimental, hopefully, a little bit of each three non-believers. (listen)
Art from:...


A roadtrip mix for Vivian, Harp, and Peter. For when there’s nothing to distract them from Rapture-y, apocalypse thoughts. A little defiant, a little sentimental, hopefully, a little bit of each three non-believers. (listen)

Art from: siminiblocker


Lake Michigan Rogue Wave|| I Need a Mi nute Imagine Dragons|| The Great Escape Woodkid|| From Eden Hozier|| Girls Chase Boys Ingrid Michaelson|| Tell Me If You Wanna Go Home Keira Knightley & Hailee Steinfeld|| I’m Good The Mowgli’s|| Rescue Song Mr. Little Jeans|| She’s A Riot The Jungle Giants|| Space Oddity David Bowie ft. Kristen Wiig|| Like Real People Do Hozier

Love love love this playlist.

(Source: irregularvampire)


Ryan McHenry, creator of the “Ryan Gosling won’t eat his cereal” vines recently passed away from cancer at the age of 27. Ryan created this vine in his memory. You can donate to a fund to support sarcoma research here.    


This is so genuinely funny and sweet and also we live in the weirdest time.

(Source: vine.co, via alexamonster)

““God, it was good to let go, let the tight mask fall off, and the bewildered, chaotic fragments pour out. It was the purge, the catharsis.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath


“God, it was good to let go, let the tight mask fall off, and the bewildered, chaotic fragments pour out. It was the purge, the catharsis.”

― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

What I Read These Months: March and April 2015

  • The Paying Guests, Sarah Waters. This was the only book I read in all of March. I love Sarah Waters, but The Paying Guests invoked this terrible dread in me, in part because the entire second half of the book is just a catalogue of varying degrees of intense feelings of terrible dread; in part, I think, because I am pregnant and my brain is kind of scattered and I would rather not read about bad things happening to people at the moment. It was still very good, I think? But it also broke my brain, made me unable to focus on written words for several weeks, forced me to turn to television instead, #noregrets.
  • Short Stories: “The Blueprint of Your Brain,” John McNally. “A Death,” Stephen King.” “An Inventory,” Joan Wickersham.
  • The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P., Adelle Waldman. Hard to know if I would find this quite as funny and engaging as I did if I didn’t hate Men quite as much as I do. But needless to say I found it very funny and engaging!
  • The Town in Bloom, Dodie Smith. I keep reading Dodie Smith books waiting for one of them to be I Capture the Castle again, but none of them are. They’re still very light and charming and pleasant! But none of them are I Capture the Castle (except for I Capture the Castle).
  • The Folded Clock: A Diary, Heidi Julavits. Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa amn, girl.
  • The Daughters, Adrienne Celt. I was already halfway through this book when I met Adrienne at Google and ate free food while listening to Disney soundtracks, so this review is not actually that biased: it is totally gorgeous. It is lush and dreamy and strange and it will make you feel like a beautiful witch has put you under a sinister spell. PRE-ORDER IT NOW AT THE PROVIDED LINK OR THE INDEPENDENT BOOKSTORE OF YOUR CHOICE AND LET’S DISCUSS IN MORE DEPTH COME AUGUST.
When you’re young and your love is new, you map the geography of a person’s body inch by inch. You want to know them so well you could make another version of them, one wrought out of gold and filled with light.

The Daughters, Adrienne Celt (via everythingiread)

VIVIAN CONTRA O APOCALIPSE is now available in Brazil! Published by Agir Now. It is super cute and I can’t read a word of it. Thank you, @giualonso!


Professor Stephen Hawking believes Zayn might still be in One Direction - in a different universe

(via fishingboatproceeds)


Ain’t no party like a Googleplex party because a Googleplex party is very thoroughly catered. (And full of toys.)

Thanks for visiting, katiecoyle! (And for making our presence at the Take Your Child To Work Day festivities semi-legit with your uterine cargo.)

One really nice moment of this adventure for me was when Adrienne took out her phone and said, “I need to get a picture for rachelfershleiser,” and I said, “Okay, do you want me to stick my head through that cut-out?” and she said, “YES.” Then we sorted each other into Hogwarts houses, whi ch for me is the traditional sealing of a friendship.

An easy way to get me to take a 1.5 hour long train ride is to be a writer/person from the internet I really like, and also to offer free food.

Thursday, April 22nd, 2015

Last week, I was in Austin on a business trip. I spoke on a panel at the Texas Librarian Association conference, and my publisher paid for me to fly there and stay in a hotel and eat queso and ice cream and BBQ, to stand on a bridge until dusk and watch the largest urban bat colony in the world emerge from underneath. This is the first business trip I’ve ever been on–before very recently, I had no business doing anything at all–and for all I know it could be the last. So I made sure to tell just about everyone I encountered that I was in Texas on business. The cab driver who brought me back to the airport was the only one to really question what business that was, and when I told him, he flipped out. “ARE YOU TELLING ME I’VE GOT A BESTSELLING AUTHOR IN MY CAB?” he shouted. I was not telling him that, but he ran with it, shook my hand as I was leaving, told me it was an honor to meet me, that he’d see me on TV. No one has ever been more excited about the existence of my book than my cab driver, not even my own mother. Heaven is a business trip to Austin, or maybe just a ride in that guy’s cab.

I had a lot of free time on the trip so I went to BookPeople, the glorious Austin bookstore, and bought a copy of Heidi Julavits’s The Folded Clock. I bought it because it’s so beautifully designed and I love reading other people’s diaries. I walked to the river from the conference center and sat at a table in the sun behind a cafe and read the first fifty pages in one sitting and realized how little track I’ve been keeping of my own life. Today I am twenty-two weeks and a couple days pregnant, and I’ve written barely a word about any of it. There’s too much to talk about, but also not enough. I am not the first pregnant woman ever to exist. I cannot adequately or particularly interestingly describe how weird it is to feel my child moving around inside me. Th ere are “kicks” and then there is whatever happened this morning, as I lay in bed with my hand on my stomach. It felt like something big and round sliding down the center of me and then disappearing–if I had to guess, I think she did a flip forward and what I felt was the top of her head? But, like, who fucking knows, man. I’ve had this persistent pain that I think I’ve finally identified to be my ribcage expanding. Bodies are weird.

And obviously it’s more than bodies. It’s hopes and fears and dreams and anxieties that I should, as a writer, be parsing. But I’m at a loss. In four months this fluttering concept inside me will be an actual human being living with me in my one-bedroom apartment. In a decade or so, she will be a walking, talking conscious thing, with opinions and questions and the ability–I presume–to Google herself. I feel very protective of her already, unwilling to say much about her in so public a forum. And also there’s just the fact that I’m not that scared. By all rights I should be scared, but the scariest thing about pregnancy so far is how not scared I am. She is so desired, so anticipated, so loved. She has been since we saw her for the first time on the second day of the new year, a flickering blueberry-sized embryo on a screen in a doctor’s office. She has been since before that, I think, since Kevin and I sat beside each other on a couch in my apartment in New York watching the director’s cut of That Thing You Do! seven years ago and all I wanted was to hold his hand. 

People are so happy to see you when they see that you’re pregnant. In Texas two teen boys approached, said, “Yo miss, spare some change?” and I inched past nervously, apologetically, and still one called out “Congratulations by the way!” with such genuine warmth. I’ve been given two (2) seats on public transportation. I don’t fit into my normal jeans anymore. I haven’t been craving specific foods so much as I’ve been craving summer. I want soft-serve and Phillies games, fresh air, Monkees records, baked beans and Arnold Palmers and afternoons at the beach. This is all I can think of, for now. Please don’t ask me how my new novel is coming along, because the answer is “I’ve been writing an 80+ page flashback for the last three days.”


“This is not like any Vivian Apple I have ever been before. But this is Vivian Apple at the end of the world.”  
 ―Katie Coyle, Vivian Apple at the End of the World    

Omg that ferret.

(via booksandquills-blog)

I write too much. I write like some people talk to fill silence. When I write, I am trying through the movement of my fingers to reach my head. I’m trying to build a word ladder up to my brain. Eventually these words help me come to an idea, and then I rewrite and rewrite and rewrite what I’d already written (when I had no idea what I was writing about) until the path of thinking, in retrospect, feels immediate. What’s on the page appears to have busted out of my head and traveled down my arms and through my fingers and my keyboard and coalesced on the screen. But it didn’t happen like that; it never happens like that.

The Folded Clock, Heidi Julavits

Oh hey. Baby Coyle/Tassini is due in August and she’s a girl! We’re pretty pleased about the whole thing. #femalesarestrongashell

ARCs, beautiful ARCs, of Book 2! Coming to a bookstore near you September 1, 2015! 🙏📚🍎 (Published in the UK as “Vivian Versus America,” btw) #vivianapple #vivianappleneedsamiracle

It’s a hot day in San Francisco and I am feeling this girl’s vibes.

(via tardisandthethief)