I have a new story, Real As Life, in the current summer fiction issue of Sixfold. It’s about a woman whose cat dies. Also emails from her father. Plus fingernail polish and Amtrak trains. And maybe ghosts?
Counterperson: “I mean, I know….but-”
Woman: “You can put, I don’t know-”
Counterperson: “Maybe just for the urn.”
Woman: “Is there some kind of standard amount?”
Counterperson: “A hundred dollars.”
Woman: “That will be fine. It was a little more than that, but that’s fine.”
Woman: “She’s worth that.”
This issue looks unflinchingly at the complexity of feelings surrounding the 2015 SCOTUS decision to allow for marriage equality across the land. We begin making mistakes of memory on the Bruckner in the Bronx, travel through foot splinters and Mister Softees, and end with a question of whether we should choose every day–over a single day– to say ‘I Love You.’ We hope to salute and undergird the legions of queero-weirdo youth out there who will maybe not spend another moment reducing their power in the universe thanks to this important victory. Lookout for a big ass rainbow of paper, too.
In Crying Frodo #3.3, the reader is asked to assign a monetary value to 20 objects that are either worthless or priceless, and to consider their accompanying narratives when making those choices. This issue asks the questions: What is the worth of any object? Does an object with a personal history become more or less valuable? The reader is presented with a random selection of price stickers, which are impossibly limiting. The exercise is both honorific and destined to failure.
I have a new short story — “Your Heart Does for Me What Hope Does for You” — in the recent issue of The Outrider Review, a quarterly art and literary journal that features writers and artists exploring gender and identity, this one with cool cover art by J. Marcus Weekley. –>
“Shell and I climb out the window onto the fire escape when the apartment is so hot that we can’t sleep and we can no longer stand it. We put a bowl of ice in front of a fan, but that’s a joke. We eat pints of strawberry Häagen Dazs until our bellies are miserable, and the bodega thinks we are lunatics. Finally, we put the mattresses on the roof and cover ourselves with bed sheets soaked in cold water from the shower.”
Crying Frodo 3.2 delves into the rhythmic patterns of language observed during the bonus rounds of daily reruns of The $25,000 Pyramid, and then recreates and re-imagines the focused, intentional trains of thought that lead to a winning outcome. With emphatic concentration and unexpected links from one idea to another, a mental picture is observed and named. Using simple lists adhering to the rules of the original game show, this issue is a minimalist meditation, a reflection, a non-ironic reverie.