Monthly Archives: December 2010

The Old Place, fiction by Timothy Gager

They stood out­side the open car­port, not mak­ing a move toward the old house, his Oldsmo­bile cov­ered in a thick lay­er of dirt and dust. “We have to go in,” Robert told her. “I know. I don’t want to,” Pen­ny … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Where Do Good Dogs Go When They Die?

Here's some inter­est­ing news. Stan Diel– Birm­ing­ham News Elvis sang about them — hound dogs — and most of us tend to think of them as being for the com­mon folk, but those canines of the coon vari­ety are actu­al­ly … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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New Fiction from Nathan Graziano

Not for Veg­e­tar­i­ans I. I had nev­er killed any­thing oth­er than bugs, and I told Jay, who laughed and put me in a head­lock. “You need to go duck hunt­ing with me tomor­row after­noon,” he said, and it wasn’t a … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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New Poem from Mather Schneider

THE GUY WITH THE FEET You're a sev­en­teen year old coun­try boy and your girl­friend tells you she cheat­ed on you. Some guy from Pekin felt her up at a par­ty. Some big shot city kid, a senior. But here’s … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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New Poem from Shannon Hardwick

Book of Gaige­mon, II. This morn­ing you bought plants to praise your hands, stir­rup leathers incase you decid­ed to hang your­self. The heat of a body swirls when it enters anoth­er. You might go mad Want­i­ng to resur­face the dead, … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Rainbows, fiction by Mark Staniforth

Becky watched Ged hook a rain­bow right out the lake and push it clean down his throat, still wrig­gling. Dusk smeared the sky up like fish grease. Ged wiped his mouth with his sleeve and slapped his lips. He laughed: … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Harry Crews Interviewed

This is from Decem­ber 2008, and I didn't find it until just now. It's a good one, and it's going to be a bad day for me when he even­tu­al­ly kicks down the door to heav­en. It seems like he's … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Eggs of American Songbirds is Here!

The first chap­book from Red­neck Press, designed bril­liant­ly by Sue Miller: http://​www​.fried​chick​e​nand​cof​fee​.com/​m​a​n​i​f​e​s​t​o​/​t​h​e​—​c​h​a​p​b​o​o​k​s​/​e​g​g​s​—​o​f​—​a​m​e​r​i​c​a​n​—​s​o​n​g​b​i​r​ds/

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Favorite Son, fiction by Jennifer Haigh

(orig­i­nal­ly pub­lished in Vir­ginia Quar­ter­ly Review) Buck sea­son opened—still does—on the Mon­day after Thanks­giv­ing. In Bak­er­ton it is a hol­i­day of sorts. School was closed for the day, and I report­ed to Keener’s at four a.m. to serve eggs and … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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