“Welcome! How can I help you today?” I asked as the store doors opened. The first customer was an older gentleman who I’d glimpsed pacing outside like a taunted zoo lion for at least a half hour before we unlocked the door. “You’re finally open,” he gritted through his teeth. “I’m here to get a new phone.” So began one of many interactions I have as a writer who moonlights in sales for a certain technology company. The retail store is frequented by diverse customers. The wants, needs, and preferences vary as wide as desire. … Continue reading Lost in Tech by Stryk Thomas→
When I was a toddler, I named my hands “Turner” and “Bobby.” Turner was my dominant right hand, the one used to access closed doors and cupboards. My parents say I blamed “Turner” when I spilled a glass of milk. “Bobby” was the diminutive for Robert, my father’s name. He would take my left hand when we walked or crossed the street. It is debatable whether this phase of early childhood can be remembered by a child of two, or if it is imprinted because I have heard more than once the story as told … Continue reading Turner and Bobby by Debra King→
It is no easy task to provide a peek into a textured world, with backstory, present and possibility —in only five hundred words. The writers who submitted to our Flash Fiction Contest took on the challenge and we are so grateful they did. The first prize goes to Mayim by Nancy Ludmerer, a story that has history, loss and a beautiful splash of hope. Next to Godliness by Sheila Longton pulls back the curtain on dual childhood tragedies and Self, Expression by Annie Holzman reveals the loneliness of the last chapter. On behalf of Suzanne … Continue reading Flash Fiction Contest Winners by Erika Raskin→
Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer. Simone Weil Love is not merely an emotion. It is a meltdown that reestablishes a more unified space of brilliance, goodness, and sadness. This is the real function of love in spiritual tradition. Lama Lodro Dorje Last week, the week before my last semester of university teaching (online, in an unprecedented pandemic), I had the most extraordinary experience with a stranger that I have ever had in my long life. I was nervous as always about the semester starting, but extra nervous because of what that last full-time teaching … Continue reading The Enormous Gift by Laura Marello→
Photo by Patrick Tomasso on Unsplash Many readers may feel that the disrupting Covid-19 pandemic has changed poetry and more broadly the arts, forever. This may be true as many activities are now on-line and the usual ways of interaction have been altered. I see an unprecedented (yes, that word) out-pouring of mass fear, anger, and angst. It must be said that several other concerns are simultaneously occurring in our country; the destruction of our democracy by incompetence and cruelty and the renewed concern for racial/social justice, sparked by police corruption and a militaristic mentality. … Continue reading Pestilence Poetry by Fred Wilbur→
On walks, I find feathers, seed pods, pieces of wood, leaves, flowers, sticks, papers, plastic and metal things, pieces of glass, strings, all objects that were useful in some way before they were dropped or lost. They served important purposes and then they didn’t. Some fell from trees, from birds, from pockets, the undersides of cars, or from the hand of a distracted walker like me. I find these little things visually interesting. … Continue reading Susan Patrick: Debris into Drawings, Paintings and Sculptures→
Toward the evening of the night I thought my mother was dying, the aide, who stayed with mom during the day, told me mom had been asleep for twenty-four hours and would not wake up. She sent me a picture of my mom, smiling and looking peaceful. The aide put the phone up to my mother’s ear so I could talk to her. It felt as if my lungs had closed and no breath would come, a drowning in sorrow and grief, as in the barest choking whisper I told my mother I loved her. … Continue reading Another Day by Cheryl Aubin→
When we held our essay/memoir contest last spring, we had such a wealth of wonderful entries, it was very hard to pick the winners. I think we did a good job—certainly the best we could—but in the process we knew there were entrants, beside those we chose for the prizes, whose work we could not overlook. We therefore asked a number of those whose work we could not pick—since we had only three prizes to award—if they would be willing accept the status of Honorable Mention. Five really excellent memoirists graciously acceded to this request. … Continue reading More News of Good Writing—Essay Honorable Mentions 2020→
The ascent of the Black Lives Matter movement and the overthrow of apartheid symbols in the Capital of the Confederacy made me think of some of the things I heard when we lived there: –The South will rise again., –The Belly-button is where the Yankee shot you., –Robert E. Lee was a gentleman.*, –The Confederate flag is heritage not hate., –Private clubs (schools, businesses etc.) can exclude whoever they want—because they’re private. The observations worked their way into my novel, Best Intentions, which was set in Richmond, Virginia. Started way back when my husband was … Continue reading Ear to the Ground by Erika Raskin→
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