Elissa Schappell on Dawn Powell
“If you don’t know Dawn Powell (well, frankly, I weep for you), let me catch you up.”
“If you don’t know Dawn Powell (well, frankly, I weep for you), let me catch you up.”
A book proposal for our enlightened millennium: “Pussy is really the second most abundant commodity on earth.” (Via.)
Why is the New Yorker article about Gordon Lish’s shaping of Raymond Carver’s early fiction unsigned?
Junot Díaz has a very short story, Alma, in The New Yorker‘s fiction issue.
Earlier this year, Agni published my friend Marie Mockett’s fascinating Letter From a Japanese Crematorium, one of the most elegant personal essays I read in 2007. (Photos at her own site supplement the story.) Mockett is hard at work on a novel, but sometimes I lure her away from her desk to join me for meals. Fluent in Japanese, she . . .