A post-apocalyptic story about a sea captain who parents alongside a penguin at the arctic center.

A selection of pages from Hands Up, Herbie!, a graphic biography of the artist and educator Herb Perr.

“I need to talk to you,” she says.

“I’m just using language to manipulate the reader into feeling my feelings, or the feelings I hope they feel.”

When Angie called he was washing the bottoms of his shoes, concerned that his soles were soiled with the runoff of other donors.

“I went through a period in my twenties when I really resented the pressure to be happy that I felt from my parents and from the world at large, because aspiring to be happy doesn’t always lead to the most interesting life.”

She was born.
She was born and the hospital fell into a crack where it burned.

Two books titled Parallel Play were recently released by different publishers to the complete surprise of both authors.

My father was eating pizza across from me, sucking in cheese and smiling like we were family.

My father was missing. He’d gone.

Elaine takes the boys to Florida and drops them off like they’re dry cleaning. 

“See you in ten days,” she says as they wave good-bye in the American terminal. “Be nice!”

She calls me in the middle of the night, holds me tight, trembling. Mummy, I scared.