In our afternoon reading: thoughts on Atticus Lish’s new novel, an interview with Colson Whitehead, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Brian Evenson Fiction, British Fantasy Awards, Emma-Jean Thackray’s Latest, and More
In our afternoon reading: new fiction by Brian Evenson, Martha Anne Toll and Ed Simon in conversation, and more.
by Martha Anne Toll
1963. Katya detoured to St. Patrick’s Cathedral before ballet company class. Not to attend Mass—she didn’t need to mouth words and hymns that punctuated her childhood—but for sanctuary and anonymity.
Genuflecting before she started down the great center aisle, Katya took a pew on the left toward the altar, where she could avoid Fifth Avenue’s street noise and bathe in the rainbow of colors refracted through rows of stained-glass windows. She felt alone in the cavernous space, less a child of her parents than an autonomous woman. St. Patrick’s bore no resemblance to the small parish church of her childhood. It wasn’t Mama that Katya recalled from church, it was Mama’s absence, her early death, as much a part Sundays as the colorless windows over the pews.
Afternoon Bites: “Grief and Grievance” Excerpted, Angel Luis Colón Interviewed, Sam J. Miller’s Latest, Éric Chevillard Revisited, and More
In our afternoon reading: an excerpt from a powerful new anthology, thoughts on Sam J. Miller’s new book, and more.
We’ll be off tomorrow for the holiday. Normal posting will resume on Saturday. Sunday Stories will resume next week.
In our afternoon reading: an interview with Sarah Kasbeer, fiction by Dale Bailey, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Kelli Jo Ford, Nostalgia and Literature, Martha Anne Toll, Vigdis Hjorth Excerpted, and More
In our afternoon reading: thoughts on the fiction of Kelli Jo Ford, an interview with Laura van den Berg, and more.
Afternoon Bites: Kelby Losack Interviewed, Adapting “Native Son,” Norman Lock on Samuel Beckett, Édouard Louis, and More
In our afternoon reading: interviews with Kelby Losack and Michele Filgate, new writing from Norman Lock, and more.
The House With the Plexiglas Frame
by Martha Anne Toll
Lynette awoke to find her husband Jack sitting in a Plexiglas house in her brain. He was as clear to her as the blinking red 7:01 on the face of her digital clock. Just in case, she rolled over and checked again. He was not on his back, lips open, snoring. Gone. As if she needed evidence! Her head was throbbing, punctuated like snare drums rat-a-tat-tatting.