An aside: Writing fiction is like slipping into a home and taking things— hushes, aromas, and laughter, for instance. Unless you’re good at it—like, acrobatic cat burglar good—… more →
stacia l. brownwrote 11 months ago: An aside: Writing fiction is like slipping into a home and taking things— hushes, aromas, and … more →
wrote 12 months ago: Five years ago, Nine baked a rainbow cake to impress Ahmir, who she’d been seeing for three ye … more →
wrote 1 year ago: You are no flea in petrified amber, no exoskeleton for the world to fossilize. You are not the seren … more →
wrote 1 year ago: Jesus works a series of doubles at the only checkout counter that’s ever open, the one where t … more →
wrote 1 year ago: Contrary to her family’s expectations, Nine had made herself at home in the sterile, freakish … more →
wrote 1 year ago: Work backward. Think of the moment they married, between the 8 and 11 o’clock services at your … more →
wrote 1 year ago: Nine was born Ninah Jude Brown in a cold single-bed room at Sparrow Hospital. It was 1979 in Lansing … more →
wrote 1 year ago: Nine had always found the house on Joshua Tree Court dystopian. The entire community, lined with imp … more →