Patty Somlo was good at packing her sparse belongings in a box, moving to a different city, and beginning a whole new life. It wasn’t until she met her husband, Richard, that she began to question the true meaning of “home.”
This memoir of an African-American man finding his way is a catalog of stepping stones from childhood to middle age, each footfall landing on the beauty, the sadness, the joy, the mistakes, the second chances.
Dylan’s (Nobel) win encourages a re-examination of his memoir, Chronicles: Volume One (Simon & Schuster, 2005).
The first story is never more than a whisper. It echoes in the water dance of a mother’s womb and travels through a universe of umbilicus.
Hidden deep inside a suburban daily rag’s local section of April 12, 1996, to the left of legal notices, above car and tire ads, a six-inch murder-suicide story with the 24-point headline Two Bodies Found…
This course engages students in the careful reading and critical analysis of your body as it is flung at high speed toward a dew-soaked lawn on a hot night in June of 1999.
I still miss the old way of looking at a black bird. I remember, from my days of less imperfect sight, watching a blackbird huff his wings.
I am five. My mother has picked me up from school after her lunch shift at the restaurant. She smells like cooking oil, sliced fish, and soy sauce.
My father is the wisest man in the world. Children say things like this all the time, but in my case it’s true.
I’ll Tell You Mine: Thirty Years of Essays from the Iowa Nonfiction Program is not a “best of collection,” according to its editors
