Why Write

Why Write

A moving meditation on one writer’s encounter with the call to tell stories from lithub.com. The night of my departure arrived. The miners were my friends and they gave me a goodbye party with lots of drink. We downed chicha (com beer) and singani, a sort of tasty but somehow terrible Bolivian grappa. We were …

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Here’s What I’m Reading: Monstrous Affections

Here’s What I’m Reading: Monstrous Affections

I decided to reach waaaayyyy back to 2014 for an anthology I’ve been meaning to read: Monstrous Affections, edited by Kelly Link and Gavin J. Grant. The subtitle is “An Anthology of Beastly Tales.” It’s supposed to be middle grade or YA or something, but look. From their beginnings, editing and publishing Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, to …

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We’re Already There, I Tell You

We’re Already There, I Tell You

Here in the Panopticon, prisoners are held in clear view of the system of disembodied technologies standing guard over them, and the resulting self-consciousness is hard to take. That endless electrical pulse gets inside you. My heartbeat and breathing bounce off the very walls of the room, echoing back at me. The Cyclops eyes of …

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River River Writers Circle

River River Writers Circle

River River deserves a bit more attention. We published a mind-blowing spring journal; have been organizing and participating in some great stuff this summer, most of which appears on the blog; and look forward to new partnerships this fall and in the coming months, as well as yet another issue of our journal. The writing circles have been …

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Being Filpino-American

Being Filpino-American

Damn, Internet. You have given us two absolute gems in the last few weeks. First, the Atlantic published “My Family’s Slave” by Alex Tizon, causing a minor conflagration among people of all kinds who don’t like to hear about modern slavery. But if you are Filipino-American, you’ve seen this dynamic from both sides, and you have not …

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American=Always Becoming?

American=Always Becoming?

I was born in Brooklyn. My father’s parents came in the 1920s (escaping bad Italian economy post-WWI) and my mom came from the Philippines in the 1960s (seeking professional advancement post-WWII), but I have never gotten over the feeling of being not-quite American, always-becoming American. I think I’m drawn to Trevor Noah’s ongoing, well-informed, self-affirming yet often …

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