Rick Moody's not the kind of writer who needs one of these introductory paragraphs. Author of some of our most... more
I'm functional in the sense that I make it to evening confrontations. At the sushi bar, Gita keeps talking about some girl she works... more
"You played sports?" he asks over dinner. They're having baked chicken and baked potatoes. Clean food is how she thinks of it, only a... more
The hair monster checked out the ass of a handicapped woman. She was standing with her back turned when the... more
Roy Kesey's best stories manage to be hilarious and poignant, absurd and intelligent, amusing but still close to the... more
She was what his father, who had a Betty Grable calendar in the garage, used to call a bleached blonde, and she was kind of daffy-taffy... more
The earth is deep brown and peppered with crows. Sorry-looking cows nuzzle the frozen refuge. Two mongrel dogs, skinny,... more
Gerry let out a loud belch and tried unsuccessfully to focus on Albert.
"I've got to get her back. I miss her so... more
What was he thinking? Any one of us could've found it. Cards, letters, notes, and worst of all, photos. A woman -- a blonde, of all... more
Jeffrey Brown entered the comics world with three intimate autobiographical graphic novels about failed... more
She had death in her hands, in her heart, in the americ tang of her angry sweat: she was jealous of a piece of bread. It was a dark,... more
I.
Deirdre doesn't talk to Nicole anymore, but she thinks she does. Last winter, six months went by with neither one of them saying... more
1. Ionization
In a city where everything feels a bit belated, where the clever ones... more
Kitty peeled dead flies off the screen. She squinted in the direction of the boatyard. "No boats today," she muttered to... more
It is 1:38 pm the day after the event and the best way I can think of to... more
Very soon, a book named Famous Fathers will appear on bookshelves. It's by the astonishing Pia Ehrhardt.
This is... more
Leonard Crank is an ass. He's a beer-in-a-can-drinking, White-Owl-cigar-smoking, wife-beater-wearing, greasy-haired slug. He... more
"Rita, I know you've slept with one of your cousins," Mom told me this morning at brunch.
My stomach kicked. I stopped chewing... more
He sits in his chair, absently running his fingers through his thinning white hair. She hunches on the sofa, quivering, holding a... more
A ticket to watch Cindy do her striptease cost a dollar and an ice cream.
Terms and conditions of business were:
1) The... more
The following is an email conversation I had with Ben Greenman, an editor at The New Yorker and the author... more
1
My father’s ashes clumped on the way to Smith Mountain Lake—it was probably the humidity. We had transferred his ashes from the... more
The next morning, you get a call from the Days Inn Akron South and he tells you he’s been in an accident. He is unhurt but crying... more
He smokes overhanded like a soldier. She notices that right away. He's hiding the glowing ember in the cup of his hand just like he's... more
“Matsuzaka’s pitching motion is an elegant haiku, beauty captured in three parts separated by two... more
Night game
raining on and off
seats in right field
peanuts, nachos, hot dogs
souvenir cap
in fancy modern... more
Mark took a pencil out of his royal blue gym bag. He hunted for a scrap of notebook paper, something to write on, but all he could... more
