When Dancers Turn to Writing

    Tuesday evening, I planned on attending what looked to be an interesting reading. . . but what it turned out to be was an inspirational, uplifting and hilarious multigenre experience. The event was titled “After Dancing: Dancers Turn to Writing,” and for...

On Taking a Year Off

  It’s about that time again—the act of road-tripping across a series of states, taking large sums of money for a range of books, getting those books signed by authors, seeing those authors read, attending a diverse set of panels that delve into various...

The Fire of Twenty-Thirteen

  It only takes a moment, and then her body burns, the skin lifting away in the shape of leaves—an oak, a willow branch, a maple— as if she’s known this language for years. She is screaming, she is speaking in tongues, she is a woman lost in dreams....

The Separation

  There was a moment when I thought of you, and I longed for water. Two black pitchers laid on the ground in the shadow of what must have been an old well. Their two mouths were crusted with the last snowfall’s ice. Their mouths like two ovals learning how to...