I ran my palms along her edges and peered into her joints. Why did I lose myself in the narrative here? How was that transition so effortless?
Read MoreBarrelhouse Reviews: IF THIS WERE FICTION by Jill Christman
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essays
I ran my palms along her edges and peered into her joints. Why did I lose myself in the narrative here? How was that transition so effortless?
Read MoreWhat I found instead was comfort: comfort in the company of writers who go before me.
Read MoreWhite Magic emerges as a collection that is not as much a “working through” as it is a “working with,” sifting through the fictions that shape, maim, and at times save us.
Read MoreThe Dragons, The Giant, The Women is a captivating story of Moore’s struggles with trauma, racism, self-love, and self-identification. Yet her family is its beating heart.
Read MoreDixon’s words also add to a greater discourse about what it means to see and not be seen, what it means to hunger and not be filled, and how this leads to a desiccation of body and spirit.
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