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Nonfiction

Story of the Week
I grew accustomed to seeing the sun rise and set from the school.
Nonfiction
Why do girls want to cheerlead? Don’t they know it objectifies women?
Narrative Taste
Why kill something so mild-mannered, entertaining, and sociable?
Features
Lynn Ahrens
Story of the Week
I could not tell what visions were vanishing in the dying slave.
Nonfiction
They do good things for us, the bats. But we do not want them there.
Nonfiction
In other words, beachfronts like Bolaño’s and mine are Nowhere.
Features
I wanted from my father what I had never wanted or sought: his advice.
Features
My advice can be succinctly expressed in three words: Persist, persist, persist!
Features
Getting answers is easy. The difficult thing is knowing the right questions.
Story of the Week
I am always hungry & wanting to have sex. This is a fact.
Features
If they don’t give you a seat at the table, bring a folding chair.
Features
Follow your dog, and you might just live to write for another day.
Features
Abandon the idea that arts and sciences are mutually exclusive.
Features
Needless to say, when it was my night to read I was beyond terrified.
Features
Reviewers are curs and their opinions are not to be taken seriously.
Features
Our lives are often shaped by small, seemingly trivial choices.
Features
To see—and to see properly—is the writer’s central responsibility.
Features
It was the sixties, and I was in
college and incredibly restless.
Features
You can get anyone to sleep with you—if you want it bad enough.
Features
I worry that I will be kidnapped by my cab driver and driven to an ATM.
Features
It is only the failures of love that I regret, those times when I did not give myself so generously.
Features
“Ten lo,” she says when you’ve finished. Have it.
Features
Writing is a subversive activity that exempts you from the rules.
Features
Truths don’t eclipse each other—they only complicate each other.
Features
My advice is to take advice with a grain of salt.
Features
It holds a place in my heart: Never forget the suspenders.
Nonfiction
The boat’s one of the most flagrant symbols capitalism ever spawned.
Story of the Week
His hands were the last to go under, pressed together into a little steeple.
Nonfiction
I asked for water, and he shot me a look of henpecked resentment.