If American Authors Took to Twitter

What would American authors tweet?

We’re sure you’ve often wondered, what would American authors tweet, if they were inclined to confine themselves to 140 characters? Well, wonder no more:


I have stared into the darkness of the deepest night and found not God or the Devil but my Own Face. You know. I’m good lookin’.

american authors, gossamer moon@HawthorneDarknessOnTheEdgeOfSalem

Taking a nap to write Great American Novel tonight by the light of a gossamer moon. Plan to write a book to torture kids for centuries. Wish me luck suckas!


Took off all my clothes on Mt. Pisgah today and felt the Oversoul play amongst my genitalia. Oh what a feeling to be alive!


I’m givn a lecture tonight at Cafe de Concord. 7pm. German Romanticism and Its Effects on American Babes. Half priced lattes!


I bought out the red cups at Shoprite!! Who is ready to Par-tay? You bring cola, I’ll get the rum and we’ll rumba all the way down Broadway. YOLO!


Examined myself naked in a full length mirror this morning. What a physique! What tone! What abs! Think I’ll write a poem.


Started a diary. Puttin’ those Benjamin’s spent at Harvard by squattin’ on buddy’s land. Have fun at work. Time to fish. I ain’t no fool.


The Select was lovely tonight. Tomorrow, the Dingo? Was nice sharing a drink. It’s dark now. Need a clean place to write.


How ‘bout this for new novel: Call me Billy, if you’d like. Or William. Or Bill. Or Will, But not Willy. Definitely not Willy.


Sitting in white in my room listening to Death Cab. Saw a cute dude across the street, closed the blinds and wrote a poem no will will read


Shout out to my sistas! Yo bitches! My britches need stitchin’ Who’s up for making S’mores after I churn me some butta?


Another despicable, detestable, abhorrent day with my ignominious, disreputable synapses in my lowdown, abject, and shabby cranium

Walter Bowne
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