What's breaking now, across thousands of outlets.
Before the ghost of Sylvia Plath haunted the yellow house on the bluff in my novel White Rabbit, she haunted me. I was a twenty-four-year-old graduate student plagued by the loss of my father’s second wife, a woman who had
We haven't written up this one. Literary Hub has the full story — the link below goes straight to it.
This first appeared in Lit Hub’s Craft of Writing newsletter—sign up here. I have always loved television, but as a kid, television was the “idiot box.” According to experts, this device could rot my…
Real Madrid’s new signing Yan Diomande expresses fierce loyalty to José Mourinho, stating he’s “ready to die for him.” Discover his confidence and lack of Read More…
The first time I realized I was going to die I was cutting out an obituary for a project for my 6th grade class. I was working on the living room floor, as my father slouched nearby on the brown
First round college offers will be out on August 30th
