"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."
"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."
Ash’s stories begin as the Grenfell news story did: with a fire.
In Magnolia Canopy Otherworld, the debut collection from Erin Carlyle, this biblical origin story is both confirmed and upended.
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.
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.
In intimate, first-person narration, The Island Dwellers reads like a series of private letters addressed to our hidden selves.