Jennifer Acker's Blog, page 102
March 31, 2020
Excerpt from Godshot
CHELSEA BIEKER
To have an assignment, Pastor Vern said, you had to be a woman of blood. You had to be a man of deep voice and Adam’s apple. And you should never reveal your assignment to another soul, for assignments were a holy bargaining between you and your pastor and God Himself.
To have an assignment, Pastor Vern said, you had to be a woman of blood. You had to be a man of deep voice and Adam’s apple. And you should never reveal your assignment to another soul, for assignments were a holy bargaining between you and your pastor and God Himself.
March 30, 2020
Support The Common’s Favorite Indie Bookstores
We've put together this list of bookstores we've partnered with who are staying open—in some capacity—to serve your literary quarantine needs.
March 27, 2020
March 2020 Poetry Feature: Frances Richey
FRANCES RICHEY
Princess and Baby. / When he brought them out they walked so close / together, they looked like one starving animal / with two heads. In the summer he left his door open. / It was dark in there, but I could see / roaches crawling on the walls.
Princess and Baby. / When he brought them out they walked so close / together, they looked like one starving animal / with two heads. In the summer he left his door open. / It was dark in there, but I could see / roaches crawling on the walls.
March 26, 2020
Intimations and Mercy, a Letter from the Bronx
JUDITH BAUMEL
“Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room,” I intoned solemnly when things were normal back in the BC days (Before COVID). “In truth the prison, unto which we doom/Ourselves; no prison is.” I winked at my “Forms in Poetry” class to let them know I felt their pain.
“Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room,” I intoned solemnly when things were normal back in the BC days (Before COVID). “In truth the prison, unto which we doom/Ourselves; no prison is.” I winked at my “Forms in Poetry” class to let them know I felt their pain.
March 25, 2020
Going Home
KAREN KAO
I thought we’d have a nice family dinner with my kids around the table. My husband and I would hand out our presents to family and friends and tell them our tales. Instead, I’ve been told to expect deserted streets and a city gone silent but for the sound of ambulances.
I thought we’d have a nice family dinner with my kids around the table. My husband and I would hand out our presents to family and friends and tell them our tales. Instead, I’ve been told to expect deserted streets and a city gone silent but for the sound of ambulances.
March 16, 2020
Dream Logic: An Interview with Joseph O’Neill
JOSEPH O'NEILL
My novels investigate something that’s weird about me, which is that I don't really have a nationality. I have a peculiar experience of what borders are, of what people are. These short stories are more American, even though I'm not strictly interested in writing about America.
My novels investigate something that’s weird about me, which is that I don't really have a nationality. I have a peculiar experience of what borders are, of what people are. These short stories are more American, even though I'm not strictly interested in writing about America.
March 12, 2020
The Old Dog
INÉS GARLAND
The dog didn’t come in past the guard. No one raised the barrier for it, no one warned that it was heading towards the house. It appeared at mid-morning, yellow, thin, and limping. Through the kitchen window it saw the woman, and the woman saw it. A dog.
The dog didn’t come in past the guard. No one raised the barrier for it, no one warned that it was heading towards the house. It appeared at mid-morning, yellow, thin, and limping. Through the kitchen window it saw the woman, and the woman saw it. A dog.
March 11, 2020
A Sliver of Wild
CINDY CARLSON
The walk has become a daily practice, in every weather. A constitutional of sorts, but more imperative. The water glitters in early sunlight or glowers under steely clouds. Laughing gulls whirl and scream overhead, their raucous, cascading calls tumble to the beach below.
The walk has become a daily practice, in every weather. A constitutional of sorts, but more imperative. The water glitters in early sunlight or glowers under steely clouds. Laughing gulls whirl and scream overhead, their raucous, cascading calls tumble to the beach below.
March 10, 2020
Review: Children of the Land by Marcelo Hernandez Castillo
MINDY MISENER
Children of the Land is about trying to manage—but far more often being managed by—bureaucracy, shifting legal landscapes, and the need for safety and security. It takes place on both sides of the U.S.–Mexico border, and often against the backdrop of the border itself, which Hernandez Castillo studies both from the sky and from the ground.
Children of the Land is about trying to manage—but far more often being managed by—bureaucracy, shifting legal landscapes, and the need for safety and security. It takes place on both sides of the U.S.–Mexico border, and often against the backdrop of the border itself, which Hernandez Castillo studies both from the sky and from the ground.
March 5, 2020
Film Review: First Cow
HANNAH GERSEN
The plain title of Kelly Reichardt’s eighth feature film belies a richly-detailed period piece set in 1820s Oregon Territory. But before immersing you in the past, Reichart opens in the present, with a shot of a large industrial ship making its way down the Willamette River. Along a piece of undeveloped shoreline, a woman and her dog are walking when the dog’s playful digging uncovers a human skull.
The plain title of Kelly Reichardt’s eighth feature film belies a richly-detailed period piece set in 1820s Oregon Territory. But before immersing you in the past, Reichart opens in the present, with a shot of a large industrial ship making its way down the Willamette River. Along a piece of undeveloped shoreline, a woman and her dog are walking when the dog’s playful digging uncovers a human skull.
