The patron saint against temptation sits straight-backed in an Italian convent as if mortised into her chair, and she is dead, dead, dead.
This First Proof contains the short story “Monsters of the Deep,” by Elissa Schappell.
Sebastián Silva’s highly realistic films are also thrillers. Set in Chile and performed by ensemble casts who replicate their counterparts in life with stunning veracity, his latest film, Old Cats, opens in New York this spring.
Brenda Wineapple, author of the new Emily Dickinson biography White Heat, recently spoke on “nudging narrative,” the massive effort needed to create a “biological narrative” out of the messy stuff of life.
When a child is raised according to political doctrine, political decisions and personal habits become one and the same.
This First Proof contains the short story “You Are Your Own Very Unique Snowflake”.
Let’s say it was not Steve Martin who had written this memoir of his early years as a standup comedian—or as he says in his poignant introduction, a biography of someone he used to know.
32-year-old Brooklyn filmmaker Jonathan Caouette has been documenting his own life since he was eleven. His staggering debut Tarnation, part documentary and part narrative, is a densely layered testament of Caouette’s life and that of his family.
They have separate alarm clocks on their nightstands because she always needs to be 10 minutes ahead of him.
I count the number of times he’s left me. I categorize them in a journal. “Accidental” means couldn’t be helped. “Voluntary” means the ones I hold him responsible for.
In the plum, thickly carpeted, overly waitered dining room of the Standard Club of Chicago, my grandfather and my father are finishing lunch.
When I was a boy, my father always told me, “If you kill something, boy, you’ve got to eat it.” It’s the way of the world, he’d tell me, and only right and just besides.
Fiona Mazel contrasts Paula Fox’s fictional work to that of her forthcoming memoir, Borrowed Finery.
Edmund White discusses the memoir of nephew Keith Fleming as well a the circumstances that brought the two together in the 1970s.
Now that I know my friend Claudia is a widow—following her husband’s death from natural causes—I keep remembering one particular night in Paris six months ago…
The narrator of Galaxy Craze’s first novel, 12-year-old May, could have been called Galaxy, or Rain, or Moonbeam.
Thar once was a cannonball named Parpian who shot right past my bridges and straight into my life. Oh a difficult feat, for I’d spent 25 years constructing those bridges.