April 7, 2025 | Interview
Ariel Courage on Bad Nature
Anna Dorn
I think a lot about Annie Ernaux saying that she writes like she's going to die afterward. The principle works for all kinds of writing, not just autofiction—it's an urgency that makes the voice more electric, that drives you to completion, that's more honest because it has no concern for consequences.
April 6, 2025 | fucked up modern love essays
An LLM Writes a Breakup Text to your Fuckbuddy
Azaria Brown
Prompt
# Tasks
Write a breakup text.
End relationship as clearly and concisely as possible.
Express disappointment, but be vague.
Make it clear that no further contact is desired or
April 4, 2025 | Fiction
A Letter I Hope You Don’t Write, Son
Garima Chhikara
Do you think I won’t understand because I never finished school?
April 3, 2025 | Fiction
Fantasy Football
Arcadia Molinas
Only the best of girls get to play fantasy football and today, that’s me.
Vincenzo Latronico on Perfection
Anna Dorn
I guess there is a measure of wish fulfillment in the detail of my description of Anna and Tom’s apartment. Sometimes I ask myself if this makes the arc of the novel a kind of revenge fantasy.
Next Level Unlocked
Mia Risher
Clem wasn’t worried that Joshua would be a catfish.
Notes on Our Ghost: or, Strangers of All Distances
Aaron Tomey
While trying to sleep, I abandon the sex fantasies and imagine the feeling of being held by another. They’re soft and accepting and faceless, one of the pillow-folk from the Ringling Museum.
MARCH MADNESS, 2019: Author as Capitalistic Commodity
Elizabeth Ellen
"There are no actual pages. They are hollow. They are just for show. I think how perfect that is, how much of the literary world is just for show. Hollow. Superficial. More often than not it doesn’t matter the words inside, only the name on the book, the book as an object, the author as object. Author as persona. Author as capitalistic commodity. Minor celebrity. A name to drop at a New York City party."
Unathletic Incident
Alex Avakiantz
Before that glorious year, I was relegated to the “husky” section, which is clothing not for dogs but overweight children.
Nell Zink's Sister Europe
Klara Feenstra
But in this Freudian foreshadowing, Toto doesn’t quite realize that he’s far from Catholic school, with its rules and fall-in-line rigidity.
The Magic Bus
Tyler Dempsey
This story’s about a trip. It’s a strange word. Trip. As a noun, it means a journey or excursion, going somewhere and returning, especially for pleasure, or to stumble or fall. It’s also the word used
Rare Glimpse of the Love Life of a Reader of Great Literature
Benjamin George Coles
'It's a Catch-22 situation,' she said contentedly.
And I thought, 'Fuck this shit into tiny, tiny pieces.'
The Bright African Son
Ava Sophia Brown
I extended my time at the Hotel de Paris to fall into the bad habit of making love to the maid. And to recover and regain my strength, as my flu-ish bug was stubborn and I feared being on the road for too long with it.
Making Out While the World Collapses
Hayden Church
I feel sexy / as a sheared sheep
A Poem That Isn't a Poem but Rather an Essay About Women Who Love Patrick Bateman
Sofija Popovska
in the mirror the face you see yourself | I’m so fucking good at this | the eye is an aleph and every place is you
Thrashing: elevated spectral entropy of local behavior under conditions of global pseudospectral tightening
Josh Lovins
The idea behind this silencing was that new views might have an easier time taking hold if the old one weren't always barging into the fish schools and stamping on the new view's seeds before the seeds had latched.
Sojourn, So Joy!
Gulen Celik
The winding roads were scattered with sneakily merging lanes and work-ahead signs. This would have set my head in a whirl if I weren't driving. We spotted sage, turquoise, and navy blue hues on our
Plant Hospital
Elizabeth Ellen
I think HH resented me for making him feel pedestrian, a cliché to himself; the male artist requesting a sort of self-censorship of the female artist on his behalf. (Image is everything and/but he wanted to control his; I had no right to it, to my version of it/him, in his male mind.)
Q&A with Wilson Koewing
Lisa Marie Zapata
Delve a little deeper into the mind of author Wilson Koewing
In Real Life
Chris Wu
Finally she told him she was feeling the same way, but that she didn’t have the words for it. Just the emoji of the face with only eyes and nothing else.




