Tao Lin, in his Bushwick refrigerator

“Tao Lin,” says New York Magazine‘s Sam Anderson, “seems to have planted his aesthetic flag on the treacherous Miranda July fault line between art and cutesiness. (July has prominently blurbed his books.) He writes in a showy outsider style—deadpan realism garnished casually with absurdity—that seems designed to make you think, These thoughts are more interesting than my thoughts. It’s tempting, from a distance, to dismiss him.” Still, says Anderson, “Dismissing Lin, however, ignores the fact that he is deeply smart, funny, and head-over-heels dedicated in exactly the way we like our young artists to be … and in the midst of publishing’s slow-motion collapse, Lin’s stunty, DIY approach to fund-raising seems like a possible glimpse into the industry’s future.” Why, Lin says he doesn’t even have to shoplift anymore. All of which has prompted New York to name him one Fourteen New Yorkers You Need to Know.