These characters feel like people you might know, people you meet on the dance floor at a Boystown club or a queer apartment party, people you’ve loved and lost.
(reviews)
This is when I realize that sunglasses weren’t invented to keep the sun out of your eyes.
(fiction)
The winner of ACM’s inaugural Nonfiction Contest
My mother tells me stories about when she was little and then makes me promise not to tell anyone.
(nonfiction)
She returned home when her village was liberated after six months of occupation. Her house greeted her with a collapsed wall.
(translations)
It was late in the evening and dark, the dark river with its lights passing by, reflections from the Seine travelling across the ceiling, sliding along the walls.
I have not / strayed far from the dead. I see their hip favored / executives and can pick them out from big / crowds
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“It was bleak, and I had no idea how we could translate it to a kids’ show about a talking monkey, but I was jazzed.”
She bravely gazes into the unknown without trying to articulate what gazes back.
(reviews)
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“Once upon a time, long ago in northern Hungary, the land of the Matyó, a beautiful boy and girl were deeply in love.”
(fiction)
That day has never ended. / The fence he built is still new.
The latest piece in our DEBUT section, which showcases the first literary work published by a writer, beyond a campus-only magazine
“Sometimes I feel like a beetle. / Hanging on to a blade of grass / for dear life while what others describe / as a gentle breeze knocks the wind out of me.”
(poetry)
” I would really like people who were led to believe they need to fear or hate the LGBTQIA+ community, especially trans and intersex people, to read this book,” Pidgeon Pagonis tells interviewer Sasha Weiss
It’s theirs as much as mine, / this house, their great black wings / sweeping past windows as the day unfolds
(poetry)
After double shifts / waiting tables at the country club, / she soaks herself pruny, / floats on the water until the streetlights hum.
(poetry)
The historical cloth covers two forms / beating like the angels’ hard bodies in the midst of changing time.
(poetry)
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“I tried twitching my nose, but nothing happened.”
Entangled one with another they watch us. / The good died too soon.
(translations)
“A novel is a constructed self, a personhood, a point of view that monologues,” Eugene Lim tells interviewer Ru Marshall.
O, old ocean! the river has mixed with your waters / where I so often bathed
In the weeks and months after the operation, he’d wake from sleep, sounds tooting up from his throat not so much snores as noisy requests for air.
(fiction)
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“My real education during my DePaul years occurred on Monday nights at a jazz club called Orphans…”
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“She didn’t think it would last, this quasi-détente or halfhearted madness or whatever it was.”
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“I licked every word in the story, to know its taste”
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“Maybe the remnant tells the whole / story”
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“My teachers told me // I should practice, but they never said why.”
Michelangelo said, / “I saw the angel in the marble / And carved until I set him free.”
(poetry)
Revolution / is the party we throw / at our unhappiness when we discover it / looks like tyranny
(poetry)
“Shame and living, living with it, living through it, living past it. This is what these stories are made of.”
(reviews)
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