Number 34 / Spring 2018
Christine Kanownik / Chris Pusateri / Diego Vàzquez Jr. / Anjuli Raza Kolb / Jon Ruseski / Amanda Auerbach / Adam Tedesco / Calvin Bedient / Brandi George / Sophie Linden / Spencer Everett / Harmony Holiday / Rosemary Griggs / Jenny Gropp / Karla Kelsey / Krystal Languell / Douglas Piccinnini / Feliz Lucia Molina / Lindsey Baggette / Sho Sugita / Logan Fry / Nick Demske / Lehua M. Taitano / Hajara Quinn / Thomas Devaney / Evan Kleekamp / Alisha Kaplan / Sam Cohen / Amanda Goldblatt / Elysha Chang / Simon Han / Selena Anderson / Chad Frisbie / James Hannaham / Dara Wier / Ronaldo V. Wilson / Anna Maria Hong / Greg Markee
Hilary and I have spoken before. With each new book that appears, I diligently come forward as her friend and colleague, as a fellow writer in the fun as fuck trenches of indie publishing, which feels like ascendant exile, sometimes like a lot of rubble, but to me where anything good could happen. It’s often enough a rubble full of velvet pebbles. And unlike corporate publishing, it feels reliant on friendship. How beautiful is that? So when Hilary publishes, I try to especially become her friend, but I also have to recognize, with each new book I become—in a different […]Read More
I haven’t read enough to know to know if we actually are those people in fur coats explaining why we have our breakfast at strip-clubs or just a brilliant illusion a composite of features: great tits a hard cock ten grand a month an unobtrusive driver a black day I need to remind myself I wanted this I wanted to be cruel to engage in these sorts of cruelties to pursue unmitigated violence I wanted you to feel unsafe or at the very least unusual and it worked giving me a rich feeling of satisfaction in my daily life in […]Read More
When I was a boy we lived out in Mosfellsbaer, in the valley between Mount Esja and the hill we called Langahlið. It was only my mother and me in a small cement house; my father had moved in with his other family. Next to the house there was a small pool, called a kettle pond, of a type common in Iceland: round and deep, left over after a chunk of glacier melted. It had no inlet or outlet except the sky.