“By 7am the Room Was Ready” by Cristian Flores Garcia
I met her at work. I was five years younger than her, and shy. She always smiled, was loud and outspoken . . .
News & Features
Review: Out of Their Minds: The Incredible and (Sometimes) Sad Story of Ramón and Cornelio by Luis Humberto Crosthwaite
Akashic intern Melissa Bean reviews Out of Their Minds: The Incredible and (Sometimes) Sad Story of Ramón and Cornelio by Luis Humberto Crosthwaite (Cinco Puntos Press).
Montague Kobbé: Earl Lovelace and The Night of the Rambler
Montague Kobbé discusses the influence of Earl Lovelace’s work on his creation of The Night of the Rambler.
Melvin Van Peebles featured in the New York Times
Melvin Van Peebles was recently featured in the New York Times. His artwork is being displayed at an exhibition at the Strivers Gardens Gallery in New York through November 7th, 2013.
“Lazy Gangsters” by Jen Kitses
Officer Leon James slipped out the back door of the Quayside Oil Company, where he worked part-time as a security guard on the overnight shift. In his hand was a paper bag containing the cold meatball sub that he brought from home but had forgotten to eat. Instead, he’d spent his break dozing in an office chair, his chin nodding toward his chest . . .
Don Waters: On Sunland and the US/Mexico Border
Several years ago I lived in Las Cruces, New Mexico, forty miles from Ciudad Juárez, which at the time was the most dangerous city on the planet. I was in the middle of writing my novel, Sunland, and took long drives whenever I needed to think . . .
William Heffernan: On the Destruction of War and When Johnny Came Marching Home
I watched them come home year after year from Iraq and Afghanistan, young men and women no older than my own children, some missing an arm or a leg, some terribly disfigured by bomb fragments, all damaged emotionally by what they had seen, and I knew I had to write about it . . .
“Off the Record” by Ray Van Horn, Jr.
She came up to me in the parking lot behind the Slung Rig after the show. The lot reeked of piss, puke, and exiled pizza scraps. Even the rats were too finicky to troll around this Hamden hole, where headbangers and punkers partied or balled inside their cars whenever there was a gig. Those who could get it on around this stench had a better constitution than me—that, or some sort of mutant fetish, but hell, that’s mutants for you . . .