Her name is Miranda, and she’s an Engler on her father’s side, raised to be proud of the good her family did during a troubled time. To this day, at every family gathering, an ancient Engler is helped to their feet to tell the story of the weeks, months, years after the Battle of Gettysburg, …
It’s the first day of June: Cicadas hum loudly in the trees here in Ohio, sunset is later and later (nearly 9 p.m. today), and the trees are in full green. In this spirit of late springtime, we are pleased to announce that we are open for submissions to the Robert and Adele Schiff Awards …
The Father, Deceased He appears in a hospital hallway. On the front porch of her home in Phoenix, with a clipboard in his hands, polite and distant, like he might ask her to switch internet service providers. Passing by on the sidewalk in Riley, the town where she grew up. Leaning out of his yellow …
Every six minutes another word is dropped from the lexicon. Who says there’s no use anymore for woolfell,the skin of a sheep still attached to the fleece? And when did we stop calling tomatoes love apples?I need somewhere in the world for there still to be a fishwife who understands the economy of fleshgrown taut …
In our final installment of video clips from “The Engines of Fiction” panel last month at the 7th Annual Robert and Adele Schiff Fiction Festival, Antonio Ruiz-Camacho and Elizabeth McKenzie share their approaches to thinking about structure in fiction.
The velvet ant is not velvet, not ant. It is a wasp, grooved with sting. If scooped into the muzzle of a lizard, the velvet ant (not velvet, not ant) jackhammers. Its whole body is ammunition. They call it cow killer. Yet it is beautiful, too: encased in orange & white thistle. Spotted red & …
We won’t keep you in suspense any longer: In our third installment of excerpts from the “The Engines of Fiction” panel at the 7th Robert and Adele Schiff Fiction Festival (held in April at the University of Cincinnati), we hear from fiction writers Jung Yun, Elizabeth McKenzie, Antonio Ruiz-Camacho, and Catherine Lacey about the concept …
When at lastthe last fires burnt out upon the prairie,trains could be heard passing,mournful as whales. There’s no remedy to beingsecond-rate, I heard the brakeman sayas he & his red light were pulledforever into Missouri. But still I waitedfor you like a radio tower, blinkingquietly in the night. See more poems from Issue 17.1 by …
In the second installment of our video clips from the 7th Robert and Adele Schiff Fiction Festival (held at the University of Cincinnati in April), Jung Yun and Antonio Ruiz-Camacho discuss their approaches to tone.
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