“Who was I to say what women should be allowed to read?”
In which the Magpie happens upon two Charlottes, and the things they carried.
“What ideas burn so brightly that they should besmirch generous, bare pages?”
“All my friends thought I was nuts. They said, ‘What the hell are antiques?’”
How I wrote a failed sonnet that turned into my fourth novel.
“I felt like I was a piece of clockwork waiting to be fixed.”
“Unfinished”: On Process and Met Breuer’s “Thoughts Left Visible”
Throwing It Out and Starting Again
I’ll Still Be Afraid to Talk to You Too
The Wife Monsters and Me
From the Magpie (Faces)
A Queer History of Relics
What kind of story would you like to write?
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