Our 2012 Pushcart Prize Nominees
It’s always exciting to get the Pushcart Prize call for nominations from Bill Henderson. I am pleased to share with our readers (and nominees!) the six stories we’ve selected as Pushcart Prize nominees...
View ArticleInterview: Teresa Rhyne, author of The Dog Lived (and So Will I)
Teresa Rhyne and Seamus. Photo provided by author. I’ll never forget the names of those I’ve loved: King, Chico, Dylan, Asta, and now Willy and Sonoma. They were and are the furry canines I’ve had in...
View ArticleThe Writing Life: Show and Tell by Lisa Ahn
The children form a circle, legs crossed neat. They are (mostly) quiet, waiting. There’s a flash within their eyes though, a buzz along their skin, a trill within their voices. Some have bags or boxes....
View ArticleThe Writing Life: After the Story is Told by William Henderson
A couple of weeks ago now, singer Amanda Palmer and her husband, Neil Gaiman, performed/read (a little of both for each of them, as it turned out) at the launch party for Anthony Martignetti’s just-out...
View ArticleReview — Guts: The Endless Follies and Tiny Triumphs of a Giant Disaster by...
Review by Kacy MuirThe brilliant Dr. Seuss once said, “We are all a little weird and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and...
View ArticleReview: January First by Michael Schofield
For Michael Schofield, putting his daughter January first in his life was all he could think about, hence the title of his memoir, January First (Crown 2012). January, or “Jani,” was born a genius; at...
View ArticleDanger By Its Stem by Elizabeth Langemak
My mother’s mother was a city girl, and no number of chickens – their heads popping off on the block as her husband relieved each body of brain – could make her otherwise. Not that she didn’t try. This...
View ArticleSex, Drugs and Vic Giovanni by Robert Weinberger
Vic Giovanni is my new piano teacher. He is thirty-five, wears Hai Karate aftershave, drives a maroon 1970 El Dorado, and sits too close to me on the piano bench. For the first fifteen minutes of every...
View ArticleHome Fires Burning by Anne Fox
Tonight I think I want to go home again. Maybe the sherry deceives me. Maybe it’s the winter rain pounding the window, bringing a shiver, even though I’m safe and grown up. Maybe it’s wanting a home to...
View ArticleVanilla Bones by April Jo Murphy
Sometimes her silences make me feel like I’m underwater, reaching upward through murky dark. My extended fingers reaching for a surface, trying to break through the invisible hydrogen bonds that...
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