Excerpt from the memoir manuscript Good Fortune Next Time: Life, Death, Irony, and the Non-Profit Management of Very Small Colleges December 13, 1993 When Rod Gander, the president of Marlboro College and my boss, climbed down from the hissing, dripping 6:00...
I can’t say what came first: my desire to write fantasy or my desire to play Dungeons & Dragons. I just know that they are and always have been inextricably linked in my imagination. I read fantasy from the age of four or five, but the realization that I...
By Roberto Loiederman (Editor’s note: This is the third and final installment of this serialized story. Read parts one and two.) April, 1968 – At sea, approaching San Francisco Bay We’d been at sea for more than three weeks and I had a bad case of channel...
By Christopher Woods You watched him as he kept messing with the cord that ran from the oak tree in the middle of the yard to the new bird feeder. You thought it would never hang at just the right height to please him. You kicked the ground with the toe of your...
By Kerri Pierce 10:00 a.m. The sky is ominous. Bruised. Like a scraped-up leg. (Like that time she flew off the bike and he came running.) A hidden sun stains the low-lying clouds: green, black, blue, gray, reddish-yellow in places. The sky looks grotesque. (“Your leg...
By Edward H. Garcia “You’re not that kind of Mexican,” his father said more than once. David Alvarez knew that made his father sound like a racist. A more nuanced analysis might have concluded he was an elitist. His father would have said he was a realist. It first...
