Amanda McCarthy unsplash-logoJohannes Roth Poetry looks like leather-bound journals, sounds like typewriter keys, and tastes like lukewarm Malbec. Poetry is something you do in your hybrid study-library with your prized, purebred poodle Pascal at your feet. Sometimes, writers are inherently nostalgic creatures, wanting to crawl back into previous centuries to…
Author: LRR
10 Reasons to Start Your Own Bookstagram
Rachel Conte I never found much satisfaction in scrolling through Instagram pictures of the same people fishing for likes by using cleavage and HD quality as bait, until one day I discovered the secret wardrobe of Instagram hidden from the mainstream drag; an endless bookiverse of readers just like myself…
What Book to Read Next Based on How You Decorated your College Dorm Room
Rebecca Hill Whether you’ve found yourself searching recently for the next book on your reading list or for your memories of certain nights in college, you may be surprised to learn that there’s no reason these two experiences can’t be combined—or at least, why not use what you do remember…
Constance By Jeremiah Dennehy (2017)
The Jennie Hackman Memorial Prize for Fiction, Third Place (2017) I don’t take the school bus, I don’t drive, and because mom doesn’t get home from work until four most of the time, I don’t ask her for a ride. But if I take the 509 toward Whitney Avenue at…
Erythrophobia By Jameson Croteau (2017)
From out in the outfield dirt, the crack of the bat was the only indicator a ball was rising up before dive bombing, back through the crepuscular sky. Jimmy turned and chased the echo of the sound. Go foul… Go foul… The ball, draped in a cloak of clouds, seemed…
Crumbling Walls By Kristina Reardon (2017)
Long River Graduate Writing Award, Winner (2017) “Petra, she say there be bones,” my grandmother told me, pointing beyond me to the old castle on top of the hill. The frame of the old, Slavic structure was about as beautiful as a decaying tooth with jagged corners. A revolting brownness…
Angus By Sten Spinella (2017)
The Jennie Hackman Memorial Prize for Fiction, Second Place (2017) The girl I was seeing had this dog, a real fluffy fucker, whose name was Angus. It was her boyfriend’s dog. She was taking care of Angus because his owner was studying abroad in New Zealand for the semester. I…
The Road to Hell By August Jones (2017)
When I was seven, we made poetry books in school. I wrote two poems about my childhood dog, one about my grandpa, and one about 9/11. The rest were gibberish. On the cover, I drew broken hearts, storm clouds, a syringe, and my mom crying in the den. My dog…
Splitting By Alyssa Palazzo (2017)
Left I. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. A slender Italian with olive skin and a swollen stomach sits across from me. We are on a train rushing to Manhattan, and her feet are propped on the red duffel that sits at my knees. Her long…
i think i dreamed you by Aryanah Haydu (2017)
day 1 We met and though I was elsewhere involved, I knew that he would be the sweetest thing my eyes would ever reach. He had a long term girlfriend but still I couldn’t take my eyes from his toiled blonde hair those anesthetic blue eyes. He looked full to…
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