Lori was in real, actual danger, but it was easy to convince herself she was not.
Christmas at my house!
This is how they get you
“Are you okay? Do you need money?” Lori waited for her to ask about the money, her money. The money she had paid her own mortgage company.
My daughter is a big shot at a bankMy other daughter is a big shot in New York City
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More by this author
What We Talk About When We Talk About Book Titles
When a writing project has a good title, everyone can feel it. But getting there can be a struggle—for both the author and the publishing team, if your project happens to be a book.
What is Genre, Anyway?
In this conversation, author Isaac Fellman and literary agent Kate McKean discuss how writers and the publishing industry define genre . . . and realize the more you talk about it, the less clear the concept becomes.
Book Contracts: Let’s Talk Surprises
In the final installment of her column, Kate McKean tells us about the things authors don’t expect to be in a book contract.
More in this series
We’d pull the curtains from their rods above the large living room window when we made love. This was when we were our own gods.
Shlomo and Fanya
The girl, a matchmaker, asked to see Shlomo’s hand. Reaching from her coat pocket, she pressed a tarot card-sized photo into his palm.
Seven Questions in Exchange
She follows the signs deeper as a weight in her gut grows colder with every step. It’s almost been long enough that she’s forgotten the finer details. Almost.