1.
so there's this girl, as there always is, except she's a movie star, which figures, since this is me, telling you a story you aren't likely to believe anyhow, and she's not very
Erin McGraw teaches writing at Ohio State, where she works with her husband, the poet Andrew Hudgins. She's the author of The Good Life, Lies of the Saint, and The Baby Tree. In her latest
Paul Maliszewski's Fakers: Hoaxers, Con Artists, Counterfeiters and Other Great Pretenders, was published in January by The New Press. The book is a collection of essays, interviews, and reports
1. Sweet Sixteen:
She is thinking of her father at the breakfast table, reading the paper. Can almost hear him humming softly to himself. Can hear the slow crunch of cereal and the
1. Janie
When I was sixteen, my dad's new wife and her daughter, Mary Ann, moved in, so I had to get out. I found a burned-out one story place on Corey Road near the gas plant. When it wasn't
At some point, the people in their thirties and forties decided to go one of two ways: dog fighting, or dog grooming. It was a simple choice, really, and one for which their childhoods and young
I first became a fan of Hannah Tinti's writing when I read her story, "Home Sweet Home," (appearing in her collection Animal Crackers). The story begins: "Pat and Clyde were murdered on pot roast
Shopping
I was sitting at the kitchen table, it was morning, the light was pale and fine, he was messing about, making something nice for me to eat. 'I want you to come with me to buy a
In less than an hour, the ferry was at half-speed, the wind had died and the magnificent flora of Cane Island was in full view. They were in the brochure again, the one the travel agent had given
Elias was a banker, so we left with more than most. $1,600 to spend at the outfitters—three yoke of oxen, 2000 pounds of food, boxes of bullets and spare parts: tongue, axle, wheel. Two sets of
Meine Liebe
It got to where I couldn't stop talking about him, though our relationship had to be secret — there was no other way — for he was fifty-eight, Daniel M. Kennedy Professor of
John Brandon's debut crime noir novel Arkansas is full of men who become bored or dissatisfied with the straight life and who, in the process of trying to find something else, end up working as
In God's Country
Camping in the northern part of the state, two guys and a girl woke to the sound of what they thought was a nearby bear. The sound did come from a bear, but the bear wasn't
The boy mastered the alphabet, but the other boys were playing soccer. The boy mastered subtraction, but the other boys were saying who could and couldn't sit in the back row of the cafeteria. The
It's Christmas Eve, our birthday's less than an hour away, and, per Tannen family tradition, it's Davie's and my first night home for the holidays. Unlike me, Davie's not much of a drinker—not
There is much to admire in the life and work of the author Michael Kimball: his sentence craft, his innovation, his generosity and enthusiasm. He's also a quite a thoughtful interview
1.
The sign is taped to a post and weathered and tattered as it is, it would be easy to believe that it has been there for weeks. But this post is one that Gord walks past several times a day,
Conversation
She had nine faces already, and each time she began to talk a new one was added. "How does she manage to do that?" he wondered, listening to her voice. It enveloped him like a
My boyfriend and I have sex and when we're finished he holds me close and whispers into my ear, I just date-raped you. What do you do now?
In the grocery store he throws an avocado at my head
In a walk-in closet, my father's ties were exactly six centimeters apart on wooden dowels. I gently touched the gaps between his ties and ran my fingers through the ties. Before anyone else, he
Leni Zumas' wonderful book Farewell Navigator is full of the kinds of stories I love and the kind of writing I envy. Every word is chosen carefully. Every sentence fits with the previous and the
Sumatra, Indonesia, 1963
The hibiscus hedge is the boundary line the girl is not supposed to cross. Sometimes, for something to do, she walks to the end of the sidewalk and listens through the
Those days I believed in Body over Mind. I believed Mind followed Body because I knew matter could think. I was a cook in this little hotel/restaurant in Missoula, Montana. The manager put me up in
They think I don't hear their whispers, but I do. Even with a bathroom between our bedrooms, all I have to do is put my ear to the wall and I can pick up every word.
At twelve, I know a lot. I
Cathy Day grew up in Peru, Indiana, where the Great Porter Circus lodged from 1884 to 1939. Her first book, The Circus in Winter, illuminates the rise of the circus, its collapse, and the legends
I met her on the corner of a street and an avenue. "We didn't fix anything," she told me. She was no-nonsense, a fast-walker, a liberal. She agreed to show me around.
I tried to ask what it was
