Empire, the famous giraffe on loan from San Diego to our county zoo, had a freak accident and injured his neck and died.
When I learned she was publishing a novel, I wanted to reach out and talk to her about the experience of moving from the flash form to a longer form.
Now We Can See The Moon is a novel about a drowned city and a group of rescue workers/identification team who are, for various reasons, staying behind in the ruins.
After my cousin died, dropped dead at forty folding clothes, I got checked for what she had.
Is your workspace clean? Take a moment to tidy. An organized space cleanses your soul!
The new book Monster Portraits, published in a beautiful, slim volume by Rose Metal Press, consists of a collection of written vignettes by Sofia Samatar, which are based on series of drawings, the monster portraits of the title, by her brother Del Samatar.
The pieces in my new book, The Listening Room: A Novel of Georgette & Loulou Magritte, are about the life and work of the Belgian Surrealist artist René Magritte (1898-1967), told through the alternating perspectives of his wife Georgette — his lifelong companion, frequent model, and muse — and their shared series of Pomeranian dogs, all called Loulou.
He had a poker face only a mother could love — rectangular, perfectly flat, framed by red hair, with a button nose, and with eyes so blue that they had to be covered by contacts — a face as ungainly as a mixed metaphor, a face best described in the one-step-away-from-reality words of Nikolai Gogol, Bertolt Brecht, or the music of Die Moritat von Mackie Messer.
Marcie arrives at Danworthy Independent Living’s potluck with no expectations of delight. She made Swedish meatballs yet again, not because she likes Swedish meatballs or thinks that she makes them particularly well, but because it’s the only crockpot recipe she’s ever known, and at eighty-seven, she doesn’t see fit to learn anything new.
Never Anyone But You is the story of the lives of two French intellectuals, who lived together in Nantes, Paris and on the island of Jersey between 1917 and 1954: Lucie Schwob and Suzanne Malherbe. Both were artists, better known as Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore.
The book required at least two types of research. One had me pursuing information on rear bumpers, ignition switches, fuel lines, and so on. The other moved me through internal landscapes that stretched back a number of years. Both offered the possibilities of fresh collisions.