before she could contemplate doing something for herself with her time

By Alder Duan Hurley
Essays    Reportage    Marginalia    Interviews    Poetry    Fiction    Videos    Everything   
Essays

Interrogating the Asian American disconnect
in the debate over NYC’s specialized high schools

Essays

As I looked at her notes from my papers in her class and her emails to me, I realized she had so much belief in my work. She was a teacher who had so much belief in her students.

Poetry

i had a twin who was 95% water. a twin who latched its mouth onto my heart and drank me dry.

Fiction

Astra unwrapped her long spindly fingers and weighed his member with a chilling fascination.

An introduction to the Transpacific Literary Project’s pieces of Plastic through a weaving of voices and questions to come

Poetry

Woman who puts up her hair comb holds / up the sky. There is the legend and probably a lie.

Fiction

I keep the butts of my clove cigarettes in a candy tin. I pound it shut, hide it away. So it stays a secret.

Marginalia

Cixin Liu on first contact, Viet Thanh Nguyen on Thanksgiving, the future of Mission Chinese, and new fiction from Rachel Khong.

Poetry

‘Which poem can defeat / the fear of dying / a meaningless death / and how to write that poem / staring into the barrel?’

Interviews

The writer talks about her new memoir, Olive Witch, subverting her identity, and the tenuous link between memory and writing.

The deadline for submission has been extended to July 15, 2019. Both the Neighborhoods Fellowship and the Muslim Communities Fellowship start on September 6, 2019.

Essays

In mining the contours of being elsewhere, Meena Alexander widened the narrow passage between her birth and her death.

A fitting end to my crazy stalker-ish experience with Dancing with the Stars

Interviews

“When people ask me how much of the book is autobiographical, I often tell them, ‘Well, you know the story where the man turns into a suitcase? That’s my uncle.'”

Poetry

Fingers caked with wet / rice break backs and bellies, / pluck gills, / scrape eggs, tear limbs / Tita takes our legs– / cracks them / under a glass jar for us. / We suck shells ’til twilight.

Interviews

The Hong Kong poet talks the Umbrella movement, being an outsider and an insider in Hong Kong, and how she translates the world.

Poetry

I tell C no one loves me like a mother would. / C says no one loves a fragile queer. I choke / on the thread as it slices words out:/ Say Ma say Mother America say Mother India say love me like a mother won’t.

Suppressed sexual violence in the name of revolution lay in the abyss of our consciousness.

Essays

On Marie Kondo and the painful joy of preserving family history

Interviews

Ashok speaks to Miho Hatori of Cibo Matto about her new creative endeavors, Tokyo versus New York, and what gets lost in translation.

Essays

Interrogating the Asian American disconnect
in the debate over NYC’s specialized high schools

The deadline for submission has been extended to July 15, 2019. Both the Neighborhoods Fellowship and the Muslim Communities Fellowship start on September 6, 2019.

Essays

As I looked at her notes from my papers in her class and her emails to me, I realized she had so much belief in my work. She was a teacher who had so much belief in her students.

Essays

In mining the contours of being elsewhere, Meena Alexander widened the narrow passage between her birth and her death.

Poetry

i had a twin who was 95% water. a twin who latched its mouth onto my heart and drank me dry.

A fitting end to my crazy stalker-ish experience with Dancing with the Stars

Fiction

Astra unwrapped her long spindly fingers and weighed his member with a chilling fascination.

Interviews

“When people ask me how much of the book is autobiographical, I often tell them, ‘Well, you know the story where the man turns into a suitcase? That’s my uncle.'”

An introduction to the Transpacific Literary Project’s pieces of Plastic through a weaving of voices and questions to come

Poetry

Fingers caked with wet / rice break backs and bellies, / pluck gills, / scrape eggs, tear limbs / Tita takes our legs– / cracks them / under a glass jar for us. / We suck shells ’til twilight.

Poetry

Woman who puts up her hair comb holds / up the sky. There is the legend and probably a lie.

Interviews

The Hong Kong poet talks the Umbrella movement, being an outsider and an insider in Hong Kong, and how she translates the world.

Fiction

I keep the butts of my clove cigarettes in a candy tin. I pound it shut, hide it away. So it stays a secret.

Poetry

I tell C no one loves me like a mother would. / C says no one loves a fragile queer. I choke / on the thread as it slices words out:/ Say Ma say Mother America say Mother India say love me like a mother won’t.

Marginalia

Cixin Liu on first contact, Viet Thanh Nguyen on Thanksgiving, the future of Mission Chinese, and new fiction from Rachel Khong.

Suppressed sexual violence in the name of revolution lay in the abyss of our consciousness.

Poetry

‘Which poem can defeat / the fear of dying / a meaningless death / and how to write that poem / staring into the barrel?’

Essays

On Marie Kondo and the painful joy of preserving family history

Interviews

The writer talks about her new memoir, Olive Witch, subverting her identity, and the tenuous link between memory and writing.

Interviews

Ashok speaks to Miho Hatori of Cibo Matto about her new creative endeavors, Tokyo versus New York, and what gets lost in translation.