In March 2021, my mother, Nancy Bourne, a lifelong nonsmoker, died of lung cancer. Two weeks before that, though, as she cycled in and out of hospital wards, she was on her laptop sending off a flurry of query letters to literary agents asking for their help in selling her first novel. Six months before that she learned that another book of hers, a collection of short stories titled Spotswood, Virginia, would be published by a university press. In fact, in the last decade of her life she wrote dozens of short stories and published 35 of them.
But perhaps what’s most remarkable about my mother’s late-life literary renaissance is how few people knew about it. It wasn’t a secret, exactly. She belonged to two writing groups and took numerous creative writing classes and workshops. But outside a tight circle of family members and writing friends, she rarely talked about it.
Our September preview showcases stories of familial dysfunction from the brilliant Natalia Ginzburg and Susan Taubes. The beloved Italian author considers the strained relationships between parents, children, and siblings, while Taubes’s Divorcing, out of print for over fifty years, takes up the collapse of a marriage and a sense of self.
Sophie Blind is divorced—and not merely from her husband but from herself, as her own memories and emotions seem increasingly remote. In luminous fragments, the narrative flits from New York to her childhood home of Budapest, considering her parents’ divorce alongside her own. Fans of Renata Adler and Elizabeth Hardwick, take note: this dreamlike novel from 1969 is a forgotten precursor to their lyrical work in the ’70s. Taubes, a close friend of Susan Sontag, committed suicide at forty-one soon after its publication.
From the celebrated author of Family Lexicon comes these two novellas of dysfunctional family life. In Valentino, a sister tells the story of her doted-upon brother, who upends his family’s expectations when he suddenly marries an ugly but wealthy older woman and begins a secret affair with her male cousin. In Sagittarius, a daughter and her hypercritical mother move to the suburbs, where she becomes obsessed with impossible dreams of opening an art gallery.
Denise Miotke is a mom, a real estate agent, a reader for the Austin Film Festival, one of my oldest friends - and a screenwriter. I loved talking with her about her writing journey - she’s wise and funny and you’re going to love her.
In this episode we talk found family; fence disputes; Bronte inspiration; how poetry and screenwriting are linked; how bad screenplays are all similar; authenticity; and so much more.
Jako v životě. Křehkost, zranitelnost dnešního stavu.
To, že bych teoreticky každou chvíli mohla vším
pohnout jinam. Mé věci, šaty, skříně a stoly jsou prosyceny provizorností mého pobývání na zemi, mou nejistotou a smrtelností.
Všechna cizí akvária nekriticky přijímám (pokud v nich není umělohmotný hrádek), jen s tím svým se nedokážu smířit, zdá se mi tmavé, jeho špína padá na mou hlavu,
jsem svědkem ryb, které v něm umírají a které musím vyhazovat do záchoda,
květiny v něm musí být přeskupovány, nahrazovány novými, protože žloutnou.
Ale už mnoho let ho držím při životě, kupuji nové ryby, topím jim, čistím písek a kameny a nedokážu s tím přestat. Ovšem, že dokud nepraskne a nevyteče, svoje akvárium dobrovolně nikdy nezruším.
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What I like about other people’s apartments is that the way
objects are arranged in space is given, I can only
watch them be.
In my own apartment what makes me nervous is the opposite —
nothing is definitive.
As in life. Fragile, vulnerable the way things are today.
I could, theoretically, move anything
at any time. My things, clothes, wardrobes and tables
are suffused with the provisional nature of my existence
here on earth, with my uncertainty, my mortality.
I uncritically accept all aquariums belonging to other people
(as long as there is no plastic castle inside) only my own aquarium I cannot come to terms with, it appears dark, its dirt falls on my head
I witness dying fish that I then have to throw into the toilet
the flowers in it have to be endlessly moved around replaced with new ones because they turn yellow.
Yet, I keep it alive for years, buy new fish, keep them warm, clean the sand and stones unable to stop. Of course, until it cracks and the water pours out I will never voluntarily abolish my aquarium.
“Imagining crawling inside them, she fantasized the feeling of the bugs that would cover her arms and legs, burrow inside of her, and how the tree, strong and thick, would embrace her inside its darkness. Weeds and vines and flowers sprouting from her flesh as she pushed her fingers outward toward the warmth of the sun, becoming one with the tree, ancient, beautiful, mysterious. There was a hollowness in Blossom’s chest. As if someone had dug a hole into her sternum in preparation to plant something where her heart was supposed to be before getting distracted, allowing for worms to dig deeper into the soil, for spiders to lay eggs into the crevices of her flesh, and forrot to take place.”
“We angels do not need to sleep, much less to eat or drink, but sometimes we do it anyway for pure pleasure. The nights, therefore, for the guardians who watch over their protégés, when the latter are at home to sleep, represent the foundation of hours of reflection, reading, writing and intellectual growth.”
“Soon after, Eva also arrives, wearing her Greek female tunic, decorated like mine. Her wavy hair falls on her shoulders like tongues of fire and illuminates her entire slender figure, like a classical statue. I imagine her coming out of the Parthenon, in the role of a queen. She is beautiful to say the least. May the Olympian Gods be with her.”
“I have tried to suppress these strange feelings, this sympathy towards her, but the efforts have been in vain. I am a stranger to this kind of emotion. I have never felt anything for mortals other than pain for their cruel actions that lead to self-destruction, so it is hard for me to understand what makes her so different in my eyes.”
“It was a cold winter day. I remember it like it was yesterday, and if I close my eyes, I can still feel it on my skin. I do not have many clear memories of those years, but this one would be impossible to forget.”
thanks to your advice, I decided to translate my first novel into English to allow as many people as possible to read it.
the first translated chapter has just been published and I will try to publish a new one once a week or so (my studies could alter the schedules, please be understandable).
after saying that, I leave you the link below of the English version of the book.
every little support is appreciated, I care a lot. hope you like it.
do you think I should try to translate my novel into English?
it wouldn’t be perfect at all, because I don’t study languages and I only know English a little bit, but it would definitely be more understandable to people all over the world who are interested.
let me know your opinion pls, it’s very important for me <3
“I’ve never felt anything for mortals other than pain for their cruel actions that lead to self-destruction, so it’s hard for me to understand what makes her so different in my eyes.”
Respond to the photo with either a short story (no more than 3,000 words) or a poem (no more than 2 pages) for your chance to be published and win a copy of Blue Pencils Anthology!
Send your submission to [email protected] no later than midnight 21st June for your chance to win.
Orlando has been called ‘The longest and most charming love letter in literature’ and it lives up to the name, spanning over three hundred years of immense political and social changes. During a political uprising Orlando, a young man living in the Elizabethan Era, turns into a woman and sees the world change and evolve over the years. The use of irony and farce in Virginia Wolf’s Orlando highlights many of the issues women faced for several centuries leading up to the early 20th century.
We’ll be reading this throughout March, make sure to tag your posts with the hashtag #aborlando
This beautiful Japanese Manga follows fifth graders, Shuichi and Yoshion. Shuichi is new at school and befriends Yoshion, but both have a secret. Shuichi is a boy who wants to be a girl, and Yoshino is a girl who wants to be a boy. We follow them as they both question their identities and learn how to be comfortable with their true selves. It is a sweet and loving story about friendship and identity.
Still unsure? Why not try out the first chapter here! Discuss with us and post on social media with the tag #abwandering
This is the cover of my first novel!! I’m so excited! It’s a Dark Fantasy book and comes out on May, 2022. Hope you can help me spread the word :D
Synopsis:
Long ago there were six species: the Shadows, Gods, Beasts, Dragons, Humans, and Rebels. The humans locked them away to gain power over the world. When a nihilistic, Mexican young adult girl is summoned into the world beneath our own she discovers her true power and purpose alongside The Iron Fists who are dead-set on overthrowing the overlord who terrorizes them. Her lies get her in the door, but it is her resilience and growth that makes her essential to the cause. Devastation and death expose the nature of each character’s soul as some rise to greatness overcoming otherworldly challenges, mystical curses, and their status as underdogs while others reveal their true colors and betray the ones they claim to love.
