A Different Ending

The peanut seller tore sheets out of paperback books to make the cones.

A Friendly Round of Golf

“We’d be naive,” Crump went on, “not to assume that people are vile.”

A Legendary Agent Reflects on Publishing

A Personal Statement

“I’d like to talk to C about her personal statement,” Blattman said.

A Place of Our Own

Lorenzo and me, we’d squat our own building. It was the new frontier.

A Real Writer

Advance planning was never Hank’s strong suit, he had to leave her.

A Smile of Fortune

She favoured me with an even more viciously scornful “Don’t care!”

A Sport and a Pastime

She is complaisant with all her clothes off. She moves to his touch.

A Storyteller’s Story

Americans have always a kind of tenderness for cheat.

A Taste for Winter

She is very rich. She will leave me everything when she dies, he says.

A Trailer by the River

The thought of entertaining our relatives filled me with horror.

A Vacuum Is a Space Entirely Devoid of Matter

I needed a paycheck a lot more than I needed to be kissed.

A Windfall

She flicked a bit of citrus on her tongue. Her laugh was hard and high.

Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams.


If he’d had that seat belt on, he would have been pinned inside.


Mostly he was in a hurry, so he’d just stick it in and away we’d go.

Agents: The Business of Writing

Art touches the soul and moves life in ways that commerce cannot. E. L. Doctorow noted that writers seem to get business ideas almost right.

Aim High Olongapo

From the flight deck Gray could see home, wherever that might be.

All My Pretty Ones

The hound, the leash, the fence, the hens. So many of them.

All the Trimmings

The old man drinks some more liquor and whacks down two trees.

Amatoria Nervosa

It is our first time, both of ours. This sentence ends with hate myself.


He fell to the floor and begged the gods. The gods were silent.


Waiting for a cure, waiting for the closeout sale, the black sail.

An Ideal Author

I should never have the notebook and the pencil in the right pockets.


The elevator inside him begins to fall with dizzying speed.

As Evening Falls

Later, in a sudden about-face, she gives herself to him entirely.

Babylon Sister

Ah, yes, Rita reminded herself: I won. Her Mistress of Mayhem award.

Badger Mountain

Keely finally stops crying when they step outside. The shock of cold.

Bald Eagle

Your image is on my credit card, you and the old red, white, and blue.

Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall-Street

Like a ghost, he appeared at the entrance of his hermitage.