America Was Hard to Find
Kathleen Alcott
"He had never described his wife, but Fay knew who Elise was the moment she folded her hands on the bar. Something essential changed about a person, Fay thought, when they belonged fully to someone else, as particular as a color. A certain softness in the shoulders, a diminished curiosity that came from no longer performing for potential futures. She was disgusted by it, she was envious."
Do… Nothing? Maddie Crum on Myths of Self, Help,
and Self-Help
Let the Studied Indifference Flow Through You
Joanna Scutts on How We Find—and Lose—Women Writers
Exhumations and Revelations, from Zora Neale Hurston
to Bette Howland
Why Is It So Hard to Write About Music in Fiction?
Anne Valente Would Rather Just Make You a Playlist
How Do the Police in New York City Deal With Animal Cruelty?
On the NYPD's Animal Cruelty Investigation Squad
5 Reasons a Writer Should Move to Jackson, Mississippi
Our Cool Shit is Cheap, and Our Cheap Shit is Cool
Climbing Mountains for the Right to Vote
On the 1909 National American Woman Suffrage Association Convention in Seattle
A Brief History of Queer Language Before Queer Identity
"Shade Comes From Reading. Reading Came First." –Dorian Corey
Page 1366 of 1827
