By Melissa Wade Justin Cronin, writer of The Passage, no longer writes short fiction. He said the form is incompatible with his temperament. His successful trilogy, by way of proof, clocks in at over...
From Issue 36.1 Danielle Evans Eggs. They wanted eggs, and their requests came trickling in daily in ten-point type, through the want ads of the campus paper. Five, ten, fifteen thousand you could...
From Issue 21.1 Justin Cronin The morning he was scheduled to appear in bankruptcy court, Frank O’Neil ate three eggs for breakfast, read the Times and Globe, drank two cups of coffee, helped his...
By Kevin Binder Writing fiction shares a strange quirk with playing chess. Unlike most endeavors, which people usually get faster at as they improve, writing and chess both seem to take longer as...
I’ve come to the conclusion I have a strange idea as to what the purpose of “eco-poetics” is. While I originally saw it as any other poem, except that its aesthetics involve nature...
In an era plagued by a global pandemic and a slew of environmental crises, Rebecca Dunham’s poetry collection Cold Pastoral (2017) poignantly captures the need to reflect on our responsibility to...
Robert Bausch “…Anything makes me laugh, I misbehaved once at a funeral.” –Charles Lamb He could hear the people in the church praying. So many voices carried a long way and he could...
Jennie Malboeuf The four corners of my eyeline are rich with distraction. An aquarium, a library, a fun park, a creek. In this scene, a shrike crosses the sky, spears a frog on some barb for later....
Larissa Szporluk Maybe I had a baby with my father. Maybe I’m lying. Maybe I wish I had a father, then a baby, then another baby, then a break— what use is a child, or a finger? If we had...
Mary Jo Amani Pay careful attention lest with all the fluctuations of thoughts the greening power which you have from God dries up in you. —Hildegard von Bingen writing to an Abbot 1 I bought an...
