Tag: Excerpt

Heat & Light

April 2016

Fortified with sock tea, he attends his morning group, which is called Steps. This to distinguish it from the afternoon group, which is called Group.

High Dive

February 2016

Male staff members at the Grand waded through the myths that surrounded her, enjoying the feeling of being stuck.

The Naked Maja, or La Petit Mort

February 2016

“You’re delicious,” he says, meaning it, remembering the taste of mango.

Rashod Ollison: The Soul Serenade of a Music Journalist

January 2016

Rhythm, blues, & coming of age through vinyl.

Square Wave

January 2016

It seared their eyes. Squinting, they watched the light dilate, divide in six. The rocket fell away, limp, useless, and dark as a new star grew against the storm.


September 2015

It’s an open secret that every officer, regardless of rank, is allowed to step in and ask for special consideration for one fuck-up.

Eduardo Galeano: God’s Masterpiece or the Devil’s Bad Joke?

July 2015

Barbarians and apes—from the Opium Wars to the origin of the species.


May 2015

Every day I expect to wake up and discover that the morphine has worn off, and that Richard is back to the man he was before the surgery. Instead, quiet.


June 2014

They had never been this far out in the lake, this lost, this on their own.

Art is a Problem

December 2013

Joshua Decter grapples with art’s inherent contradictions; the Los Angeles race riots; and a contemporary artist’s social allegories in response to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in Art is a Problem.

All The Selves We Have Been

November 2013

Writing against the cultural aversion to aging and the aged, the feminist scholar explores our impulse to stop time.

A Dark Tower Opening

March 2013

In the face of its stare, I stared back, and the bear slavered in response, shook its thick fur as welcome or warning. . .

Justin Nobel: The Monster Grows

December 2012

In an adapted vignette from the author's new book, Standing Still in a Concrete Jungle, a surreal afternoon at a Wall Street lunch spot.

Gone to the Forest

June 2012

His father is more than twice her age but her eyes are pinned to his lips as he speaks to her in his fur-lined baritone.

The World Without You

June 2012

He’s mopping at his pelvis with a wadded-up tissue, and then he’s mopping her up as well. Already the backs of her thighs are caking up.


By Eshkol Nevo, guest-edited by Assaf Gavron
January 2010

The Arab is so stunned, he doesn’t move. Just stands there with his certificate and his rusty key. Not breathing.


By Catherine Chung from a novel-in-progress, guest-edited by Alexander Chee
June 2008

She was limp and sweaty but I snuggled into the comfortable softness of her. They had cut her open, and she was whole. She looked very tired and sick; on her gown, blood bloomed like a slow flower.