Lucy glared at me from a young woman’s bicep, her mouth picked out in a crabby zig-zag of dark-blue ink on pale skin. Yes, that Lucy, the-doctor-is-in, Peanuts Lucy. On the woman’s right arm Pig Pen hovered in a cloud of inky blue grime among a gallery of other stick-and-pokes. The girl with the Lucy…
Announcing the Winner of the 2017 Italian Prose in Translation Award!Posted on October 10, 2017 by rcldaum October 7, 2017—The American Literary Translators Association (ALTA) is delighted to announce the winner of the 2016 Italian Prose in Translation Award! The award was officially announced during ALTA’s annual conference, ALTA40: Reflections/Refractions, held this year at the…
I ate a Portuguese tart at the farmers market. The custard was cold, had the texture of craft paste and tasted like water-based sealant. The pie man stepped from foot to foot behind the pie counter: he wanted to be somewhere else. A girl busked a violin with a tinsel-covered case on the ground in…
Juliet Sulejmani | April 01, 2016 “Fiction books are my soul food, junk food and brain food all in one. More, they’re my oxygen – I need them to live.” So says Baz about why he r… Source: Untitled Book Club
SOME DAYS it rained, that summer of Saucony. I took long walks on the clifftop paths. The grey-green sea broke against the rocks in rolling swells and sent long, foamy washes into the coves, and the beaches were closed for days at a time by dangerous currents and sudden blooms of stormwater. That didn’t stop the…
Matt Holden 