Author: Heavy Feather

  • Bring Me the Head of Quentin Tarantino, a new collection of short stories by Julián Herbert, reviewed by Jesi Buell (Graywolf Press)

    Bring Me the Head of Quentin Tarantino, a new collection of short stories by Julián Herbert, reviewed by Jesi Buell (Graywolf Press)

    I first became aware of Mexican author Julián Herbert when Graywolf published Christina MacSweeney’s translation of his novel Tomb Songs in 2018. Having really enjoyed that work, I was excited for the opportunity to review this trio’s most recent project, Herbert’s Bring Me the Head of Quentin Tarantino. And, I have to admit, after spending…

  • “On ‘Starlings, Caravans’ by Kay Sage”: An Ekphrastic Essay by Nadia Arioli (nee Wolnisty) for Bad Survivalist

    “On ‘Starlings, Caravans’ by Kay Sage”: An Ekphrastic Essay by Nadia Arioli (nee Wolnisty) for Bad Survivalist

    Once, I broke my own heart. Listen. Miscarriage is normal, expected, considered fine. We get our hopes up. We say, Yes, yes, we can do this. Our bodies know what to do. Kay Sage is a painter with rules. I can’t quite figure them out when I’m awake, which makes sense, is right, for a…

  • Two Mixed Media Images by Lindsey Morrison Grant

    Two Mixed Media Images by Lindsey Morrison Grant

    *Ed.’s Note: click images to view larger sizes. Mom Orange You Glad I Didn’t Build a Wall Self-identifying as a neurodivergent, two-spirit elder with deep Pacific Northwest roots, Lindsey Morrison Grant’s eclectic journey includes surviving domestic violence, medical gaslighting, heart attacks, cancer, parenthood, and charismatic/evangelical cult involvement. Successful recoveries are attributed to an invaluable support…

  • “Bad Trip”: A Bad Survivalist Short Story by Melody Sinclair

    “Bad Trip”: A Bad Survivalist Short Story by Melody Sinclair

    Merlin Klotz sweated through his T-shirt with giant lettering that read, “OK BOOMER.” He questioned why he wore it in the first place. He was on a shuttle bus, leaving from his hotel in route to a drug retreat full of hippies, as the brochure he found in his mother’s apartment described. The retreat was…

  • Six Poems by Jessica Lawson

    Six Poems by Jessica Lawson

    seasonal employment the sun sets at 4:36pm today how does early dark affect you solstice is a different day every year how does early dark affect you they have made some cutbacks in the sun department a constant temporary position a temporary constant loss how does early dark affect you solstice has been declared a…

  • “Skin Parchment,” a short fiction/prose poetry hybrid by Phoebe Rusch

    “Skin Parchment,” a short fiction/prose poetry hybrid by Phoebe Rusch

    Interstices Two rutted roads cross in a heat-hazed field. An old man with broken legs leans on his crutches there. He looks familiar, like a recurring dream, a flash in your peripheral vision. He shows you all your lives and the choices made, stringing them in the air before you like beads on an abacus.…

  • “.SUMMONS.”: kill Christian novel excerpt & audio by Pablo D’Stair

    “.SUMMONS.”: kill Christian novel excerpt & audio by Pablo D’Stair

    … kill Christian finds itself the happy owner of several (perhaps meaningless, but nevertheless) distinctions in my career, so-called. Perhaps most interesting (to me, anyway) is that it is the first and only time I had gone more-than-a-year between writing novels and is also the only book to have a gap of more-than-a-year after its…

  • Excerpt of Fred Misurella’s Novel A Pontiac in the Woods (Blue Triangle Press)

    Excerpt of Fred Misurella’s Novel A Pontiac in the Woods (Blue Triangle Press)

    Jamie Sasso finds herself alone, with no family or home. Cast adrift by a distant cousin in another state, she finds she cannot tolerate her county’s foster care program. But where can she live, how can she feed herself, and in what way can she plan her future? Will she even have a future? A…

  • Madeline Vosch: “The Place Between Tongue and Teeth,” a Haunted Passages short story

    Madeline Vosch: “The Place Between Tongue and Teeth,” a Haunted Passages short story

    At night it fills my mouth, this unnamable, unmournable ghost. I don’t know who it is, but on calm nights it tastes like smoke and cedar. On days when the wind sweeps in, hard and angry from the north, it tastes like ocean salt. It pushes against the corners of my gums, pressing down on…