Authors protest Amazon’s e-book return policy
A new option for copyright disputes
Freelance is no longer free
That’s one way to research a murder mystery
The 2022 Pulitzer Prize winners
Comparing attorneys and agents
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.
Secrets in the Landscape
by Cathy Herbert
The day he went into the hospital that last time, he told me he was not at all afraid of death. He did not believe in God.
I Have to Catch Fish so Jason Can Get Married
by Matthew Sullivan
Jason has four children all born from different mothers. Child support will glean most of what he makes this fishing season. Does he know that? I won’t tell him.
I Sent an Opossum to Preschool in Place of My Son and No One Noticed
by Steve Edwards
Last fall, after much consideration, my wife and I decided that we could no longer send our son to Sunshine Meadows Preschool.
A Supposedly Funded Thing I’ll Never Do Again: An AWP Survival Guide
by Evan Allgood
The proliferation of scarves, specs, pasty skin, and presexual tension gives the Association of Writers & Writing Programs conference a Hogwartsian feel, but with none of the magic.
Pornography and Poetry
by Isabella David
“Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembr’d” has always seemed to me the most perfect pickup line, although it didn’t work so well on Ophelia.
Backspace
by Tracy Harris
We used typewriters decades ago, and carbon paper and different colors of white-out. If we made a mistake we could correct not just the original letter but each carbon copy as well, in the correct color.
Things I Did Not Learn From Dead White Male Authors
by Jennifer Zobair
I have loved books by white, male authors. I have stayed up all night with them, avoided studying for the bar exam with them, sought refuge from broken hearts or unrealized dreams with them.
It all began around a campfire…
Beautiful language
is meant to be heard as well as read, and in fact words were vocalized eons before they were ever committed to clay or parchment. Storytelling began around campfires. We seek prose and poetry that continue the tradition.
Contributor Spotlight:
Ordinary Splendor
by Judith Waller Carroll
Open Contests
Lascaux Vol 9
by Stephen Parrish, with the editors of The Lascaux Review
