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Temporary Hilary Leichter Socialist Realism Trisha Low Things to Make and Break May-Lan Tan Mean Myriam Gurba The Gift Barbara Browning I’ll Tell You In Person Chloe Caldwell I Love Dick Chris Kraus Problems Jade Sharma Broken Glass Park Alina Bronsky Prostitute Laundry Charlotte Shane Surveys Natasha Stagg Margaret the First Danielle Dutton She wore red high heels and tight jeans and backcombed her hair. She scared them all. She chewed gum loudly in class, she got great grades and she knew she could fuck whoever she wanted and knew she’d fuck them better than they’d ever been fucked before. So she fucked the ones she chose to fuck. She fucked the ones who deserved her shit. And then she fucked Mark. —Paula Bomer, Inside Madeleine Gift Certificate Animals Emma Jane Unsworth Inside Madeleine Paula Bomer Our Spoons Came From Woolworths Barbara Comyns Pretend I’m Dead Jen Beagin Eve’s Hollywood Eve Babitz The Selected Jenny Zhang Jenny Zhang Painting Their Portraits In Winter Myriam Gurba Thérèse and Isabelle Violette Leduc Lolly Willowes Sylvia Townsend Warner My Body Is a Book of Rules Elissa Washuta Her 37th Year: An Index Suzanne Scanlon The liberating thing about publishing an essay collection before you are a fully formed person is that there is nothing to fear. You have no readers. No experience. No memories of doing it before. No wounds. The bad thing about publishing an essay collection at twenty-five, when the frontal lobe has barely finished developing, is there is nothing to fear. No readers. No experience. No memories of doing it before. No wounds. Chloe Caldwell, I’ll Tell You In Person Dead Horse Niina Pollari Black Cloud Juliet Escoria Pity the Animal Chelsea Hodson The Wallcreeper Nell Zink My Brilliant Friend Elena Ferrante Scarecrone Melissa Broder Playing the Whore: The Work of Sex Work Melissa Gira Grant How To Get Into the Twin Palms Karolina Waclawiak The Autobiography of Daniel J. Isengart Filip Noterdaeme The Compleat Purge Trisha Low Yokohama Threeway Beth Lisick Notice Heather Lewis "One of the things that’s perennially fascinating about the world is the way people sell things to themselves. If people feel the need to sell something to themselves, that tells its own tale." -Helen DeWitt, Lightning Rods No Regrets Dayna Tortoricci The Days of Abandonment Elena Ferrante The Terrible Girls Rebecca Brown After Claude Iris Owens Meaty Samantha Irby Cassandra at the Wedding Dorothy Baker King Kong Theory Virginie Despentes Nevada Imogen Binnie Lee and Elaine Ann Rower Empathy Sarah Schulman Speedboat Renata Adler The Correspondence Artist Barbara Browning "My dark hair makes my eyes more cat-like and brighter in hue. More Eastern European. Less American. I am starting to make sense to them. I am taking off all my American skin. Killing my ability to pass for the Middle American and quiet and from here. Instead I am from the bloki again. Soviet-built and dooming." -Karolina Waclawiak, How To Get Into the Twin Palms Nine Months Paula Bomer I’m Trying To Reach You Barbara Browning Promising Young Women Suzanne Scanlon Maidenhead Tamara Faith Berger Mercury Ariana Reines Loitering With Intent Muriel Spark One More for the People Martha Grover Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead Barbara Comyns Making Scenes Adrienne Eisen Lightning Rods Helen DeWitt the buddhist Dodie Bellamy Sempre Susan Sigrid Nunez "Eventually you can’t help but figure out that, while gender is a construct, so is a traffic light, and if you ignore either of them, you get hit by cars. Which, also, are constructs." -Imogen Binnie, Nevada Glory Goes and Gets Some Emily Carter Inferno (a poet’s novel) Eileen Myles No More Nice Girls Ellen Willis
She wore red high heels and tight jeans and backcombed her hair. She scared them all. She chewed gum loudly in class, she got great grades and she knew she could fuck whoever she wanted and knew she’d fuck them better than they’d ever been fucked before. So she fucked the ones she chose to fuck. She fucked the ones who deserved her shit. And then she fucked Mark. —Paula Bomer, Inside Madeleine
The liberating thing about publishing an essay collection before you are a fully formed person is that there is nothing to fear. You have no readers. No experience. No memories of doing it before. No wounds. The bad thing about publishing an essay collection at twenty-five, when the frontal lobe has barely finished developing, is there is nothing to fear. No readers. No experience. No memories of doing it before. No wounds. Chloe Caldwell, I’ll Tell You In Person
"One of the things that’s perennially fascinating about the world is the way people sell things to themselves. If people feel the need to sell something to themselves, that tells its own tale." -Helen DeWitt, Lightning Rods
"My dark hair makes my eyes more cat-like and brighter in hue. More Eastern European. Less American. I am starting to make sense to them. I am taking off all my American skin. Killing my ability to pass for the Middle American and quiet and from here. Instead I am from the bloki again. Soviet-built and dooming." -Karolina Waclawiak, How To Get Into the Twin Palms
"Eventually you can’t help but figure out that, while gender is a construct, so is a traffic light, and if you ignore either of them, you get hit by cars. Which, also, are constructs." -Imogen Binnie, Nevada