Anne Sexton - Nov 9, 1928 - Oct 4, 1974 In 1987, Jack Zipes published a collection of fairy tales called, Don't Bet on the Prince: Contemporary Feminist Fairy Tales in North America and England. The two authors who stood... Read more →


When Talia was three, she got lost in the garden behind the house. She stomped in circles around the same copse looking for a break in the underbrush; there was none. When the moon was full, she howled. Nanny didn't... Read more →


Chernevog was a dick, no question there. If you crossed him, he'd be on your tail as long as it took to cut you down; no mercy, no quarter. Quarter wouldn't have applied anyway; Chernevog didn't appear to have quarters... Read more →


Hank could not believe she would do this. To staple a gold paper crown to his head and drop him down a well was one thing. To leave him down here with half a pack of Newport Lights and one... Read more →


Yelena stared at the wall and nurtured her rage. Om Shanti, Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti, Shanti, Om... fifteen minutes every day. She refused to cut her hair, but clipped her nails to the quick. She was ordered to the shower... Read more →


"Just because she carries it well doesn't mean it isn't heavy (Love and Rage)" - Noelle Mirabella Photography **** This showed up in my facebook feed and I reposted before I processed the contents of her load. I might have... Read more →


Some memories hold on. They dig in deep and maybe we're unaware; but a photograph, a sound, in my case, often a smell, slams the entire vignette into the present. When this happens, I write as much as I remember.... Read more →


I think this might be the most honest photograph of me, ever. I remember Joe set the camera on a table, messed about for a bit, and then set the timer. This was us in 1984. I was twenty, he... Read more →


My Aunt Annie. Not so sure about this selfie business. Heather, I don't know how to do this. Yes you do. You're doing it right now. She was seventeen when I was born, and married at twenty; three and a... Read more →


I was coming of age, and she was coming into her own. She fought battles for me well before I knew I'd need them. She was tenured at Columbia University in 1972; just about the time I informed my parents,... Read more →