
Long before Scaachi Koul went hunting for Marie Calloway, (and, in the process, brilliantly re-examined the alt lit craze of the aughts) I was reading this book and thinking "some girls really know how to live."
Looking back, Marie Calloway wasn't having better sex than the rest of us- but she wasn't afraid to express desire, something I found far too vulnerable (I always chose to write about bags fumbled and kisses aborted, rather than to speak to desire- and so it was a dare I gave myself just a few years ago, to film some Good Sex.)
Calloway has since disappeared from the scene- but maybe she knew the truth about the internet and its fickle ways: it's better to burn out than to fade away.
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