Posts Tagged ‘ Nonfiction ’

“The World Is Burning But At Least We Have Collective Nouns,” by Rosalind Moran

Sep 18th, 2019 | By

We’ve all heard of a parliament of owls, a gaggle of geese, and a murder of crows. But what about the creatures on this good semi-green Earth who lack a collective noun?



“What Women in Science are Really Wearing These Days (Contrary to What Most ‘Women in STEM’ Posters Would Have You Believe Are Always Lab Coats) OR Things That I Have Actually Worn as an Actual Scientist Doing Actual Science,” by Sarah Totton

Sep 10th, 2019 | By

1. Steel-toed rubber boots. Because nothing says “Thank god!” more than not breaking a toe as a cloven hoof stamps on your foot when you’re ankle-deep in cow manure.



“Single Pink Grapefruit Seeking Trampoline for Out-of-This-World Adventure,” by Julie Willis

Sep 4th, 2019 | By

If you’d asked me before I had kids whether I would want kids with imagination or “normal” kids, I’d have said imaginative kids. Who wouldn’t?



“Call Me By Your Name,” By Holly Laurent

Aug 7th, 2019 | By

I used to love it when, upon re-entering the country after traveling abroad, I’d get a customs agent who’d stamp my passport, look up and say, “Welcome home Ms. Laurent.” I’ve been traveling a lot lately and with strangers I use a fake name. Josephine. Online I’ve started using the moniker Howard LaGrunt. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s a protection mechanism, maybe it feels like my name is irrelevant, or maybe my name is just nobody’s bee’s wax. I was standing in a TSA line this week holding my boarding pass and I.D. and as I looked at my license it felt like I didn’t recognize my own name.



“Puberty, I Hardly Knew Thee,” by Ali Kashkouli

Jul 31st, 2019 | By

Every school year would end the same way. Signing yearbooks. Exchanging telephone numbers. Telling people that we should totally hang out over the summer and then never seeing or speaking to them again. I would look my peers in the eye while saying my goodbyes and think, “This is the summer where I break the five-foot barrier. You wait and see.” And every summer I would return from break to find that the exact opposite had happened; everyone had sprouted upward and I had remained the same size. Year after year. The same thing.