Once a year, around the holidays, it becomes too much. I crawl in my tweet, cradle my miniature man like my mom used to me. I miss you, I’ll say.… more
Author Archives: Ben Drevlow
Quarters, Pasos, Arabians
FICTION by Chris SheehanThis was nothing like how I knew the ditch water reason for Lobo’s summer sores, how every summer he got the sores and every summer the ditches filled with water. I knew about that now.… more
Ghost Disco
CREATIVE NONFICTION by C.G. DominguezAfter the fact, I think it’s normal to catalog the things I didn’t have time to say to you. This kind of thinking forms a common self-soothing refrain: oh, yes, everyone must feel this way. Move along, rubberneckers. No tragedy here. … more
All is Forgiven
FICTION by Delphine Gauthier-GeorgakopoulosI ruled the underworld for too long. I am bored, & wish to come home, retire. There is little for me to do; it’s hell on earth & I had nothing to do with it. I blame God (He was never a good boss) for failing humanity. Yes, I know the rules: I forgive him. Can I please come home?… more
STEPHEN EOANNOU
BULL Interview by drevlowI wanted to write a BIG book. I thought of all the novels I loved and kept coming back to two: Shoeless Joe, by WP Kinsella, and The Natural, by Bernard Malamud. I wanted to write a novel in their spirit. Both use rich language to tell bigger-than-life tales with a dash of magic thrown in like a spice. Both are also baseball books, and my mantra for writing Yesteryear became “Swing For The Fences.” This meant that nothing was off limits. No brush stroke could be too broad. No joke was taboo. No character could be too fantastical. I gave myself total creative freedom. Just swing away and see what happens.… more
Always and Utter Bullshit
FICTION by Jamey GallagherAfter ten minutes I was high and taking his keys and going out to his truck and doing donuts in the driveway before racing down to town. He looked scared because he was scared. I didn’t give a shit.… more
At the Keg
FICTION by Colin BrightwellKnow your audience. Play Willie. Play Hank Williams. Play Patsy Cline. Play Springsteen and hum along. Cry into your drink. Try to feel happy. Talk to the bartender. Try not to look at yourself in the mirror behind the bar. Drink until you can’t feel the pain in your lower back. Drink until your cash is gone. Bring just enough cash so that you stay long enough, but not too long so people think you have a problem. Don’t get kicked out. I love you.… more
Boy Meet Spaghetti
FICTION by Rebekah Morgan“I would hate me too, if I were you,” the boy said to the spaghetti. “Let’s pretend that this is all new, all fresh, that nothing bad has ever happened, that we are meeting just now for the first time.”… more
Why-Because
FICTION by Adam Van WinkleIt’s 1991 so the boy, Noah, sits in the front passenger seat. Back when that was still okay. He hears but the thing is he doesn’t know his father. Not really. A day and half every fourth or fifth weekend goes fast.… more
The Rage of Silence
FICTION by Frank ReardonOne hundred T-bones a day, both cut and trimmed. Fifty ribeye, sixty Porterhouse, it didn’t matter over and over he thought of Tara’s face. He studied his boss’ actions. He learned the movements of his coworkers. It was out of habit to study people. He couldn’t help himself. He let them bust his balls often, even smiled, but he knew he could end every single one of them if he truly wanted to, but he never wanted to entertain the thought at the same time.… more
