In this brilliantly rendered, LA Times Book Prize nominated debut collection, Sara Lippmann draws the reader into the intimate lives of characters seeking connection beyond their scripted worlds. She captures the beguiling transformation from child to adult with humor, heartache, and desperation. From grieving mothers to fathers adrift, old flames to restless teens, isolated characters in Doll Palace are united by conflicting desires and the private struggles of the heart. A girl ditches her innocence at a state fair. Strippers ponder love over a Brazilian wax. A father falls for a drug-addled babysitter. A mother ends a pregnancy. Doll Palace dwells in the harder-edged territories of human compassion, navigating the powerful, often unsettling ground rarely spoken of with awareness, care, and grace. Doll Palace is that rare collection that invites imitation but leaves a vast majority wondering how she did it.
Sometimes you meet fellow creatives who are both brilliant and heartfelt, both accomplished and grounded. Today, I’m going to share with you …
On Tuesday night, fans, staff, and writers for The Doctor T.J. Eckleburg Review gathered at the KGB Bar in New York City …
The Bukowski is the sort of writer you will meet time to time, in many different venues. This writer will be funny and entertaining and even sometimes poignant, but this isn’t necessarily the writer who is going to be your best teacher or mentor for finding your own voice. The Bukowski will throw you in the deep end, which isn’t such a bad approach, though he will also laugh and drink whiskey while you drown. Be cautious of the Bukowskis whether or not they come with an MFA. Especially if they come with an MFA.
One of my workshop students, a talented, new in her craft writer, asked the question about writing community and how one finds a community in which to give and receive feedback when one has little means by which to secure it?
April 5th, DC!
Snowden. NSA leaker, traitor and patron saint of American privacy. Snowden’s stolen national security documents, what Obama to Feinstein and other government officials have referred to more than once as an act of treason, present a sexy irony. Snowden’s choices certainly fall within the national standards of treason, and yet, Snowden’s actions also make him a stalwart son of liberty and all that we hold dear, or think we hold dear, as American citizens. His leaks have forced us to question standards of individualization and governmental entitlements…. READ MORE
Q: In your opinion, was T. J. Hooker named after Dr. Eckleburg? A: I have often wondered this myself and I’m so glad you asked the question. I think so. And since you’ve brought this up, may I add that my initial concern with the journal and T. J. Hooker affiliation was the suggestion that T. J. Hooker was in fact, at one time, a real life sex worker who specialized in aliens from a diverse collect of planets and galaxies…. Quiddity is a multimedia arts venue featuring an international literary journal (print and audio), a public-radio program, and a visiting writer and artist series. Each is produced by Benedictine University in partnership with NPR member/PRI affiliate WUIS, Illinois Public Radio’s hub-station.
Cris Mazza’s new book, Something Wrong with Her, is a memoir about anorgasmia—the inability to have an orgasm. Research suggests that at least 75% of women cannot reach orgasms through vaginal intercourse, and upwards of 15% are completely anorgasmic. The surplus of contemporary sexual memoirs would have us believe otherwise. Something Wrong with Her is not a book about overcoming anorgasmia. Rather, it is a poignant memoir about a girl who didn’t feel the sexual awakenings she knew she was supposed to feel, and about the boy who loved her nonetheless.
Offering personal feedback on works that we haven’t fallen in love with would be like that guy or girl in high school who was into you but decided you weren’t the one for him or her because your laugh was a certain way or because you wore Lee jeans instead of Levis and so he or she tried to change your laugh or jeans brand in hopes of finding you more attractive. What a dick.