Remaining RWA board members resign
B&N truly misfired during Black History Month
Suspense novelist Mary Higgins Clark has died
American Dirt raises questions about Own Voices
WTF, Missouri?
Dreamspinner spins out of control
Recent Fiction
Joshua, by Jordana Jacobs
Inside the ovaries of my husband’s grandmother, Sylvie, resided an egg the size of a grain of sand that would have been Hannah, my brilliant and accomplished mother-in-law.
Recent CNF
The Iranian Blue-Glazed Pottery, by Lynn Mundell
The Iranian blue-glazed pottery sat on our parents’ shelves for years.
My Own Struggle, Or An Exercise in Autofiction
by Isabella David McCaffrey
Autofiction is technically new, but now it’s been identified as a trend—like cat eyeliner then or wearing winter white. When the masses catch on, is it no longer cool?
River Mouth
by Heather Dobbins
She hasn’t taken off her swimsuit all summer. She is two hands / across her middle. I know that from throwing her: one foot / on my thigh, the other in my palm. Up, over, splash.
Proctoring
by Michael Lauchlan
Among students, I drink the same / coffee I drank at home an hour / ago—which is not some philosophical metaphor.
Down in the Station
by Seth Sawyers
In the station a black woman with thick braids played the cello. I thought she was good, but I don’t know if she really was good, because what do I know about the cello?
My Mother Has a Cult Following
by Siobhan Adcock
My mother has a cult following. It’s not as big as my father’s, because her band hasn’t sold as many records as his.
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.
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.
Fireside
Required Reading
*
The Geek’s Guide to the Writing Life: an Instructional Memoir for Prose Writers
by Stephanie Vanderslice
Keep Moving: Notes on Loss, Creativity, and Change
by Maggie Smith
The 2020 Pushcart Prize Winners
Edited by Bill Henderson
Winner of the National Book Award in Fiction
Trust Exercise
by Susan Choi
Debunking Copyright Myths
by Janet Fries and Jennifer Criss
from Copyright Alliance
Don’t Be a Jerk to Your Online Humor Editor
by Chris Monks
from Vulture
An Amputee Looks Through a Ring
by Dina Peone
from Poor Yorick
Becoming Dr. Seuss
by Brian Jay Jones
The Three Words That Almost Ruined Me As a Writer
by Sonya Huber
from Literary Hub
The O.Henry Award Winners
Edited by Laura Furman
