So has Rod McKuen.
Andrew Sullivan announces his departure from The Dish.
Amazon net sales up 20% in 2014.
The January 2015 Author Earnings Report.
Voltaire is selling briskly in France.
Nook Press still a distant second.
Author Translation, yet more idiot bait.
Book genre performance in 2014.
Amazon is no longer tax-free in Illinois.
Laura Wilder autobiography is a small press bestseller.
Flash fiction contest. $1000 for 1000 words. Submissions are open.
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Fiction

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  • Rabbit Suit

    by Julia Lynn Rubin

    When I look at the sky, I don’t see color. The man in the rabbit suit doesn’t either. I know this because I asked him one summer, when the air smelled like burning pavement.

  • Superman

    by Emile DeWeaver

    A mother-of-pearl mirror-stand, rolled rugs from Damascus, and other brick-a-brac from when I went through my I’m-gay-but-proud-to-be-Syrian bullshit fill the shadows in my garage.

  • Orbiting, Day 271

    by Bradley Potts

    “There is a 2.43% probability of survival. How would you like to proceed, Jay?” Blue Jay, flutter and fly, away from the crows. That gloating, hateful blue engulfs my tiny window.

  • Puddles Like Pillows

    by Suzanne Conboy-Hill

    Things began disappearing round about March. Just little things—a newspaper left on a bench, or a sandwich wrapper—and not blown away or tumbled into a corner, just gone.

Poetry

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  • Sefeed

    by Mathew Javidi

    If I could go back, / I would have clutched my tongue, / not let it pirouette into / the soft, dim spotlight of / your living room

  • Monastery

    by Alicia Lai

    Once I entered into a symbiotic relationship with a praying mantis, wings folded / at our altar of Queen Anne’s lace. There is wine on the table—father, please don’t / let the calf bleed on me.

  • Dark Rum & Tonic

    by Molly Fisk

    Sometimes what you need is a road / house, blast of laughter and warm air pouring / out the door, where the waitresses know / your name but the customers don’t

  • A Capitalist Back to Nature

    by Robert S. King

    Here is the last forest that has never / heard the crisp snap of a dollar / or a siren louder than a crow. / Here the wind does not honor / the borders of a deed.

Essays

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  • Warped Optimism

    by Diane Payne

    After making the one hundred mile drive with my daughter for the Breast MRI appointment, she takes off to meet an old friend who is a medical student at the hospital.

  • Hidden in the Bone

    by Jim Krosschell

    Lately, as I’ve progressed from little walks around the living room to real walks around the block, the neighborhood seems to be different.

  • Face Value

    by Randy Osborne

    “I don’t expect you to remember me,” she says. The Atlanta bar is loud around us. She’s maybe late 30s, with dark hair and eyes, apple cheeks, a certain kind of defiance about the lips.

  • Sunday

    by Lee Martin

    A porch swing sways, and the chains in the eyehooks screwed into the rafters let out their lazy creaks as if this is a day of rest for them, too. Or nearly so.

Du Jour

Any Road Will Take You There

Dec 3, 2014 | 0 comments

by David W. Berner

Casey and Graham heard me talk about the details of the trip, about my purpose for taking on the challenge of it, and an itinerary based on the travels written about in Kerouac’s book. Although neither had heard much of anything about Kerouac . . .

The Boy’s Own Manual to Being a Proper Jew

Nov 6, 2014 | 0 comments

by Eli Glasman

When I got back to the house it was nearly midday. My father and Talya were still at synagogue. Normally we had coffee and cake for breakfast on Shabbat, but I’d left too early, so there was a piece left for me on the bench.

Untying the Knot

Aug 16, 2014 | 0 comments

by Karen Paul Holmes

Why do knots form by themselves? / In my blow dryer cord, / cell phone charger, / dog leashes. / What Boy Scout crept into the dark / to practice right over left / around and through?

Larger Than Life

Aug 12, 2014 | 0 comments

by Jodi Picoult

One day when I was seven I came home from school to find that my mother had redecorated my bedroom. My shelf of stuffed animals was gone, replaced with all the books on math and science she had used in college.

Dreaming My Animal Selves

Aug 4, 2014 | 0 comments

by Hélène Cardona

Wind, who yearns to be savored, offers / me three cups overflowing / with eternity, daemon of insight. / The opportune encounter enraptures quintessential / distress, ruffles estranged quietude . . .

Losing Found Things

Jul 9, 2014 | 0 comments

by Brett Garcia Rose

My mother took her own life at 1 a.m. on Saturday the thirteenth of some month. I know this because my watch tells me.

The 2015 Lascaux Prize in Flash Fiction is open for submissions. 1,000 words maximum. $1,000 to the winner. The following link will take you where you need to go:


submit

Congratulations to Mathew Javidi, winner of the 2014 Lascaux Prize in Poetry!

The contest will reopen in July 2015 and close in September. For updates visit the contests page.

See you in July!

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