Summer Baby | 23 May 2016 | SmokeLong Quarterly |Reprint

I hear, yet see the circus acrobat, pretty lady, who can hula-hoop fifty silver rings at a time. Sometimes they are all rotating excitedly out of rhythm, and then, in a moment of fluid clarity, all the hoops shimmer as one serpentine tube.

Podcast: “Rewards” | No Extra Words Episode #48

When I was small, coins and bracelets, rings and musket shot would shake out of my beach towel and picnic blanket when we returned to the Chevrolet.

Essay: Buzzing Bechdel’s Tower on Top Gun’s 30th

I was thrilled and surprised to find that long ago (30 years) in a land far away (Hollywood) there was a testosterone-fueled Tony Scott film that had a strong female lead.

Flash Reprint: Upfurler | Flash Fiction Net | 10 May 2016

Nominee: Best Small Fictions 2017 | From a distance, upfurlers shimmered like a murmuration, gently hovered there, like some air current snapped a soft blanket below their soft forms; their tears plocked down, but wore away to nothing before anyone could know.

New Fiction: Ottile | Visual Verse | 4 May 2016

Louis has imported a Javanese man, of Sumatra, who has brought with him some interesting methods to the crop. He says, “wheat may be wheat the whole world over, and bake a bread just the same in any place, but tobacco is as native as you and I and must be respected as the mayor of any great land.”

New Review: I’m From Electric Peak by Bud Smith

“I often get this same feeling after reading an A.M. Homes or a Kurt Vonnegut novel: actions so large, so final; decisions all dramatic, all definitive; characters wrung out and strung out in ways that distill their essence.”

New Flash: Yuppies | Ink in Thirds | 1 May 2016

I reversed along the line of storage units, chucked it into drive while still moving backwards.

New Fiction: Before the Funeral | The Gambler Magazine

Hemingway wrote a Ballantine Ale ad in 1951, saying he kept bottles “in the bait box with chunks of ice” and that “you ought to taste it on a hot day when you have worked a big marlin fast because there were sharks after him.” Papa sure could toot his own horn for a payday.

Don’t Upset the World’s Best Second-Rate Writer | Soliloquies Anthology

I thought, O Holy Mary Mother of God.
I thought, I’ll never be a Yale man now.

Anne Elizabeth Weisgerber

Writer, Editor, Teacher