For Chloé Cooper Jones, author of the memoir Easy Beauty, life is an endless experience of being studied by others. Peers debate the value of her life, strangers stop and stare, and doctors announced that she will never have a normal life.
"How does someone process and grieve being separated from their entire biological family — by distance, language, and culture? What does that feel like?"
We live in a world with so many distractions, but syntax, getting the words to work together to form a new thing, pulls me out of the chaos and keeps me coming back.
"When we are on the receiving end of news, there is a lack of transparency, and that actually gives birth to indifference. How do I feel about someone when I don't even know their name?"
“There are poems that teach us how to read in such a manner as to eclipse our normal perceptions, our normal state of being. That's something that I think is really powerful about the hybrid form: you can portray things not just through words but through presentation.”
"Eventually, it became clear that this is really a love story — as much as what it means to love and accept oneself as it is about romantic love with another person."
"My number one ambition, always, is to create a community in which competition is banished (there shall be no "best") and personal growth is celebrated. Within such a trusting, open, can-I-say-loving environment, extraordinary things unfold."
"Hives become hidden, and we feel the sensation of endlessly tumbling through language, through its aural folds, its dimensional chronologies, and its perpetual limitations."
"Episodic yet easy on the eyes, Eating Lightbulbs could as easily be consumed slowly, steadily, and over a longer period of time as it could be read in one fell swoop . . . but perhaps that depends on one’s appetite for broken glass."
"I hope my work will inspire readers to think of how the mistreatment of nature leaks into our day-to-day lives. I want people to think of how patterns in our personal lives echo patterns that occur in the natural world."
"Environmental activism must, in my opinion, go hand-in-hand with social justice efforts; it must be integrated into the project of dismantling power structures and in service of creating more equitable societies."
"Sometimes it takes months to return to a piece because I need time to become the version of myself who knows how the piece ends. It might be a new life experience or friendship — or temporal distance from an experience or relationship ending — that helps contextualize the missing pieces, and I love the process of discovery that comes with writing."
"Protagonist Owen grows up hiding the most intimate, tender, and evolved relationship of his young life under his T-shirts: a talking java finch named Gail."
"A lot of times we writers create these beautiful pieces that highlight trauma, and then we share that work, and we live in those trauma-tinged words, and it feels immense."
Eric Scot Tryon is a writer from Northern California. His work has appeared in Glimmer Train, Willow Springs, Monkeybicycle, X-R-A-Y Literary Magazine, trampset, Berkeley…
More than anything else, it is this natural ear for sounds that makes Kelsey’s fiction stand out; her characters and their movements are given form by it.
Yuri Herrera’s Signs Preceding the End of the World is a deceptively slim novel. Alternately referenced as narco-noir, myth, epic, and border story, the novel manages to fluidly traverse genres and structural layers in a mere 107-pages.
If you are Black and American, then you too might have a story similar to mine. A story whose blood origin begins with more questions than documented truth.
In a house on a street in Colonia Educación in Mexico City on a Tuesday around midday, a mother makes the decision to leave her husband and children and never return, an action that leaves a distinct mark on the family members’ lives, like the crease left on a folded piece of origami paper.
We’re better equipped now than perhaps ever before to empathize with and examine how Jackson conveys the Blackwoods’ sense of isolation, both social and physical, from their community.
By delving into historic literature, readers and writers can gain a deeper understanding of current day issues and subjects, important in providing invaluable background and context, along with a wider perspective to inform current opinion and work.
Barbara Byar’s collection, Some Days Are Better Than Ours: A Collection of Tragedies, rages against normality, a feat that hits close to home in the COVID-19 era.
Tara Isabel Zambrano and Christopher Allen discuss expanding The Moment in flash fiction, stirring the bubbling pot of character, and knowing when a draft is done.
The map of human life isn’t a line, and I wanted to show that here. Life can look like a phone call coming from your chest, a door in the middle of the woods, a moon that, for a time, sings, and then is never heard again.
When family members are the subject of creative nonfiction, is their privacy unfairly infringed upon? Who has the right to tell a particular story? What is the point of sharing personal stories?
When dolphins die they call out their own name. They do this to make sure their family is close––they do this to remind their near ones: this is who I am. I am here now. I have known joy.