Tag Archives: nonfiction
“Here, in what seems to be the middle of everywhere, I’ve seen furniture dumped at the curb. I’ve ridden in a subway car while a group of teenagers break-danced and yelled their own names.” David Cotrone is figuring out the city.
“What I’d like to know is how is it that you never really see all that many pumpkins growing, then suddenly it’s October and there are thousands of them stacked up everywhere you turn.” And other things Ann Henry-Callahan thinks about the fall.
“It is readily apparent that Newman is recounting an ultimately circuitous inner journey by traversing the globe.” Lauren Jonik reviews Leigh Newman’s memoir.
“This world, so wide and deep, has its reasons for separating friends and I write this letter only to properly say goodbye, as well as thank you for our time and travels together.” William Blomstedt remembers a fellow traveler.
“Sixty seconds before the lunch recess bell, all us male students seated within several desk rows of the classroom ball box would hunch over the sides of our chairs, like sprinters on the starting block. The girls didn’t stand a chance.” Fortunately, writes, Jesse Cheng the girls had something else.
“I returned a scathing screed, assuring the team the customer was irrational, calling her a ‘snatch’ for good measure. I hit Reply All, thinking I’d been forwarded the correspondence instead of cc’d.” That’s when a stranger graciously taught Camilla Griep how to avoid the classic “open mouth, insert foot” procedure.
“When I was a child, I dreamed of killing my father—silencing his manic rages and saving the paintings on the wall from his large and defeating hands—the same hands that taught themselves to play piano by ear—playing me “Linus and Lucy” and Scott Joplin on request.” Julie Bolitho-Lee makes a connection.
“When I feel like nothing will ever be worthwhile again, I read Joan Didion’s essay ‘The White Album’ to remind myself how good something can be.” “The White Album” has become part of Michael Nagel.
“It’s a common trope: girl wants to change hair color; girl has no money for professional dye job; girl dumps $10 box of bleach on hair; hilarity does not ensue.” A cautionary tale of a dye-job gone wrong from Sarah Murrell.
“I came to Raymond Carver relatively late in life. Given that much of his work is barely thirty years old, little of it is taught in classrooms. Yet given today’s society with Americans marrying later and having kids later, perhaps discovering Carver before one’s 30th birthday is premature.”