Don’t Miss the Fort Greene Park Summer Literary Festival on Sat., August 23rd!
Saturday, August 23rd marks the tenth anniversary of the Fort Greene Park Summer Literary Festival! The event begins at 2:00 PM at the Prison Ship Martyrs Monument.
Saturday, August 23rd marks the tenth anniversary of the Fort Greene Park Summer Literary Festival! The event begins at 2:00 PM at the Prison Ship Martyrs Monument.
I spill coffee on the bed. The white quilt is stained.
How can I fix this? I tiptoe up the stairs to their kitchen, soak a wad of paper towels in the sink. I go back down the stairs, rub the paper towels into the stain. I scrub and scrub. The sun is rising; the stain is not. I lay back down on the bed. Hopelessness . . .
To celebrate the release of Copycat: And a Litter of Other Cats, Akashic is featuring some of our favorite library and record store cats. Today, meet Stacks, the “queen” of Litchfield Public Library in Illinois!
In the final tally I’m not sure who said it more, my daughter or me.
That year from two to three was full of refusals—there was the bedtime no and the cleaning up no; no to taking a bath and no to getting out of the bath; no to getting dressed or undressed. It was the toddler version of Newton’s third law: every action demanded an equal and opposite uh-uh . . .
“Can you say something nice about this place?”
My left wrist is throbbing like a siren so I barely register Jackie’s request. She’s the tour’s PR lackey, in charge of pushing me through the subterranean bowels of the Home Depot Center to my press conference . . .
This is me at fifteen, splayed out on Carly’s giant trampoline—stargazing, helpless, hopeful, smiling through a mouthful of stolen popcorn . . .
To celebrate the release of Copycat: And a Litter of Other Cats, we’re pleased to feature a guest post from creator David Yow on his real-life cats Little Buddy, Nico, and Penny. In March 2005 I was in a new apartment and freshly divorced—clearly I needed a cat. A friend’s mama cat was about to […]
“Mama, Miss Tina is fat,” Rose announced from the backseat of my Nissan Sentra. Panic immediately set in . . .