“What is the distance between here and there, between now and then, bet...” — Stacey D'Erasmo Quote

What is the distance between here and there, between now and then, between right and wrong? In Greg Baxter's pellucid first novel, 'The Apartment,' it may be simply the length of a day - but a day in which one travels surprisingly far, literally and figuratively.

Prior to the institutionalization of standard time, clocks were set using local meridians or local mean time, and they varied widely.

Fiction, at its best, is a radical act of intimacy. It seeks to join, to merge, to know deeply; and, as with intimacy, there is a way in which it cannot be faked.

I don't know if my faith stems from what I'd call unconditional love, but the energy certainly feels boundless.

My mom did amazing work, raising four kids on her own on a secretary's salary; we were on school free lunch program, but she prides herself on never being on welfare or food stamps. I slept in the living room because we couldn't afford a bigger apartment. That woman had so much stress on her.

My bedroom was my executive office. Buyers came to my apartment and that's where they saw the collections.

My family collects vintage pinball machines, so I have a few in my apartment.

People talk about body cleanses like there's no tomorrow - what about apartment cleanses?

Butler was like 20 minutes from my house, so I was pretty much at home. I never had my own apartment and made my own meals for myself and all that.