
Conversation & Creation: Four Fiction Authors on their COVID-Era Writing Process
On a Sunday afternoon in September, I find myself with a precious thing: several hours of uninterrupted time to write. I sit down, Word document
On a Sunday afternoon in September, I find myself with a precious thing: several hours of uninterrupted time to write. I sit down, Word document
The legend is only partially true. I did bathe in the river and the farmer did see me there in human-skin. I had hidden my
Paris corners June in their shared bathroom with a tale of her latest romantic disappointment. Really bad sex with a really good man. He was
My sister’s arrest was the biggest scandal to hit our town since the high school principal, Dr. Krauss, was given a DUI during my senior
Belinda came steaming from the kitchen into the living room searching for the weed she used last night to fall asleep and needed again this
The apartment is ready for her by the time she arrives. She isn’t sure, exactly, where she is. In a city, somewhere, but it is
The Biological Sciences Library is the ideal place to work on a quiet Sunday afternoon. With many hours still ahead of her, she languishes at
In her dream, Meena is drowning. It’s always the same dream—her kicking and floundering, fighting the swirling current, gasping for breath as she breaks the
Joana assumed that there must have been someone before her who had been more tired than she was at this moment—A mother, though, she thought,