REVIEW: Promenade of Desire: A Barcelona Memoir by Isidra Mencos Reviewed by Diane Gottlieb Desire. The word itself evokes our wants. Longings. But while our wants live in the brain and longings in the heart, desire is of the whole body. It moves us. Compels us to act. Action, guided by desire, can be dangerous.…

The way the deer gathered at dusk. The way the kids lay still on the trampoline, counting stars. The way the tall, thin pines stood so close their roots touched. The crisp night snows of November. The Have-A-Hart traps for field mice seeking shelter in our home.  Read More (SELECTED FOR THE 2023 BEST MICROFICTION…

The repetitive use of “the way” is very effective. Did you consciously craft that or did it end up organically evolving as you wrote? Thank you! I usually like to do two things in a piece—build tension as I go and come full circle. I started “21 Allen Drive” with the repetition of “the way”…

“I have ALS.” These are the words Deirdre Fagan’s forty-three year-old husband spoke just days after Christmas 2011. Bob, the father of their children (who were then just three and eight years old), was going to die—soon. Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, known by many as Lou Gehrig’s disease, is a neurological disorder that affects voluntary muscle…

Anxiety. Depression. Who hasn’t felt either or both at one point in their lives? But when we toss those words around carelessly, identities form. We become the words instead of feeling them, and the difference between the emotions we call depression or anxiety and the disorders themselves all but disappears. “Pathologizing normal distress” is just…

Anxiety. Depression. Who hasn’t felt either or both at one point in their lives? But when we toss those words around carelessly, identities form. We become the words instead of feeling them, and the difference between the emotions we call depression or anxiety and the disorders themselves all but disappears. Read More

2 poems in a  Pacific Review Annual Review journal, Atlantis and other lost place   Things I Don’t Remember                                                                            I forget to take clothes out of the dryer, dishes out of the dishwasher, the garbage out to the curb. Anniversaries and birthdays too, even my own.   I forget people’s names. Celebrities, especially. Who…

Freaked out? Of course, I freaked out. I mean, what would you do? You wake up thirsty in the middle of the night and you don’t want to get up because you’re tired and you’re naked and it’ll be cold, so cold, if you throw off your blankets, and besides, if you get a drink now, you…

It is impossible to read Christopher Soto’s debut poetry collection without having a visceral reaction. Diaries of a Terrorist, out this month from Copper Canyon Press, is not a collection of pretty poems, though there is great beauty in Soto’s words and deep courage in his vulnerability. This is a book that will move you—rock you.…

Her Mother Used to Make Her Cry Until She Learned  to speak. While she never raised a hand to the child, her mother would often give her the look. Fueled by anger running hot in her bones, her mother’s eyes would turn to flame. The baby would cry. The mother would calm her. Flame. Tears.…