We all want to write novels. Novels, we think, are the greatest form of literary achievement. They’re ambitious, they’re plex, they explore themes that sustain readers over hundreds of pages.
This oil painting is of a red castle towering over dark green foliage, set against a blue sky. Our perspective, as audience, places us on the ground, near the trees, looking up.
In King of the Animals, Josh Russell’s characters trade clothes, homes, kisses, insults, sad stories, and identities as they struggle to make sense of a nation changing faster than they can adapt.
Months ago I made an arrangement with my neighbor. Whenever he wants to smoke a cigarette, which he always does out the open window in his living room, he knocks twice on our shared wall.
This strange, charming, and wistful collection springs from a one-sentence starting point: “All purity is created by resemblance and disavowal.”
They say that if you see a bear, you should speak these words: “Hey, Bear.”
The Living Dolls and Other Women is a book with a mission: to remind us all (especially women) of How Things Used to Be.
A boy is born, nose running before he knows why, but he knows this place doesn’t feel like home…
In Love Stories for Hectic People, Catherine McNamara collects thirty-three stories spanning a breathless ninety-nine pages. Never predictable or saccharine, the stories are funny, shocking, carnal, familial, transgressive, transcendent — and full of movement.
The doctor gives me conflicting information about my heart.
A conversation with Ron Nyren about his recent novel The Book of Lost Light.