November 16, 2023 | Nonfiction
I stand just a couple inches from the mirror in my grandma’s guest bathroom at her house in New Mexico, my breath fogging up the glass. As I brush my teeth, I give myself the once over and tug at the
November 14, 2023 | Interview
Australian author Lexi Freiman’s second novel, The Book of Ayn, is the funniest book of the year. In it, a writer named Anna struggles to find meaning after being canceled for her “classist” book. To
“He couldn’t decide if he wanted to draw David, fuck him, beat him up or fall in love with him.”
-Dennis Cooper, Closer
When I first began earnestly wanting to be a writer,
Anne Marie Wirth Cauchon
I didn’t like him at first. Seemed like a motherfucker. Girls-dripping-off-him-type, but rough. Scared me & pissed me off, how he looked me up & down. That force, that asshole face, eyes like daggers daring me to see what would happen if I didn’t.
This isn’t the first time someone I considered a friend has confessed their love for me.
I would talk to the doll, then it would talk back to me, reflecting me to myself. And then I’d adjust my behavior accordingly. And, eventually, become a better, less annoying person. It’s kind of genius in a way?
Under a contrived knit brow, his eyes aimlessly drifted among a thicket of words, until they happened to stop on depling, noun, German to Middle English, a child born to older parents, and thus he found a new label for himself, more succinct than his mother’s change-of-life baby and less piercing than faggot, which Joey Novakis and his friends would blurt as they passed him in the school hallways.
A furious hellhound runs at her. Katja kicks this final test away. Lashes a heel into the beast’s sternum. And she feels nothing. Numbed somehow inside her phalanx of a thousand suns. Only rags and ragged breathing, one of her eyes damaged red to melting: She feels nothing.