Raised in a rustic house in the woods of North Carolina by parents who discouraged televisions and other such modern entertainments, Kendra Fortmeyer describes a “gorgeous childhood” complete with a story-telling grandfather who would type the tales she narrated to her dolls.

Now a fiction editor for Broad! Magazine and recipient of an MFA from the University of Texas at Austin, Fortmeyer has established herself as an emerging writer of note, with publications in PANK,

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Name: Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert, bickering but affectionate siblings d’un certain age Location: Prince Edward Island, Canada, past Barry’s Pond (or the Lake of Shining Waters) and down the Avenue (or the White Way of Delight) Size: Appropriate and sensible Years lived in: Since their youth, which was spent nursing their dying father rather than courting When Matthew and Marilla decided to adopt a little orphan boy from the asylum in Nova Scotia, they had…

I should probably lay off posting too many Stella videos, because if the Stella guys don't do it for you, they aggressively and permanently don't do it for you. They do it for me, but my God, do I understand if they don't do it for you. There are plenty of shows where I'd encourage you to persevere if it didn't work for you at first – Bojack Horseman comes to mind as something that…

This short anonymous essay about misconduct involving patients in the Annals of Internal Medicine is rough, and I'm glad it's out there: Someone gasped. I stared at David. He shifted in his seat and crossed his arms on his chest. A splotchy red rash appeared on his neck. Staring down at the table, he murmured, “Man, I was just standing there trying to learn. The guy was a dirtball. It still pisses me off.” David…

This week, Mallory launched the Convert Series with this great interview of poet and publicist Kima Jones, who converted to Islam when she was a teenager: I spent my eighth grade summer, the summer before high school, away from my home with my father. We would talk long into the night about God, but especially the Trinity and especially the Holy Spirit. We were very close, very very close, and he gave me books to…

This week was the full feelings buffet. Remember, you can always come back for more:

Celeste Ng called How to Make Yogurt in Manila by Grace Talusan ‘beautiful and moving’ (on the Twitter machine) so you don’t have to take our word for its awesomeness.

“Things That Are Meant To Make You Feel Safe And Comfortable In A Psych Ward That Just Make You Feel Crazier.” Episode by Naadeyah Haseeb will tear

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"Sit. Twenty-four years ago a doctor told your mother and me that it was impossible that we could ever have children."

"Oh. Why not?"

"I can't remember the precise reason. It was something to do with penises, I think. We decided to adopt a child."

Helen of Troy I stood in for a thousand ships and you, Paris, hid behind and conducted them with your pinky finger until I was seduced or abducted (they are not so different). Even then, with fleets and armies fanned around you, it was always you most exposed. Me in my silks, and you in your armor, it was you most exposed. Chainlink shirts and sheets of metal, swords at your hips and knives hiding…

Toasties. Other people's homes always seem so perfect and beautiful. Especially when people in said homes provide you with endless food and coffee/tea and flowers from the garden. And let you just enjoy it all with your Kindle.

"Men like to act as if commanding women's attention is their birthright, their natural due, and they are rarely contradicted. It's a radical act to refuse them that attention. It's even more radical to propose that if they want it so fucking much, they can buy it." from “Where’s My Cut?”: On Unpaid Emotional Labor

I am old, but I am not as old as Marilyn Manson. Not so old that I avoid being called ‘girl’ by strangers, but I am old enough that my adolescence passed graciously undocumented by social media. I am old enough to remember when the Berlin Wall came down, but more so, I remember how it was illustrated in a particularly topical episode of Alvin and the Chipmunks. But mostly, I am old…

The therapist looked disgusted when I told her Quentin's idea of foreplay was an erection against my leg. I felt vindicated. Even she was repulsed by my husband. Our magnetic fields repelled each other on the loveseat. “Thanks for that,” Quentin said in the car. “If it wasn't true I wouldn't say it.” “Did you see the look she gave me?” I wondered what he expected after all this time. “I forget what it's like…

so i just hold the beanspoon near my nose and scream, is that right ah, waiter, another bunch of raw green onions for the table, please YELLING NEAR BEANS IS WHAT EATING IS…

I literally cried while reading a piece in Deadspin because it is correct: Some hours have passed; my sons are now sitting next to each other on the couch, watching a movie on TV and muttering conspiratorially in their little gremlin voices about what they are seeing and drinking juice boxes I will later find on the floor next to the trash can. Before I became a parent, I sometimes felt bad about all the…