Jersey Hatch can't remember if he rammed the car into his parents' house. He can't remember why his best friend won't speak to him. He can't remember the right words to have a real conversation. And he can't remember why he tried to shoot his own head off. Broken in both mind and body, Jersey mu...
It is 1969, and Ruba has just moved to Mississippi from Haiti to live with her Grandmother Jones. This world is very different from her old life, where she spent days beachcombing with Ba, her maternal grandmother, and learning the lore of magic and history that she holds close. But magic isn't w...
Franks. Different last name because she’s married to Karl with his stupid mustache. She’s older, with shorter hair, and darker skin from lying in tanning beds—but she’s got the black eyes, so wide and dark and deep they might be shards of the universe trapped in a person’s soul.She looks like Sun...
Mama squinted at me as she gripped the arms of her wheelchair. She looked all rumpled in her gown, with her black-and-silver hair going in every direction. “Especially not at two in the morning.” “Mama.”She turned her face away from me and stared at the far wall of her bedroom. “We will not be do...
CARCATERRA Check out these pics, [insert image of saleswomen here; make Blowfish prominent] These women did not want to sell me a shirt. Why? Because I'm fat. And Hotchix clearly doesn't want fat people wearing their clothes,...
Leslie asked as we sat in my classroom, which was finally only a classroom again. She wouldn’t stop with the questions, even two weeks after the Meredith riot. I shook my head, but I didn’t say anything sharp to her for asking—because I had considered it. I spent almost a week studying Abram’s fa...
Davis: I’m only doing this to make Footer happy because she had a rotten day. You know that, right? None of us are actually suspects. Footer: Thanks, Dad. [Hugs Suspect.] Let’s start with the fire. Where were you the night the Abrams farm burned? Mr. Davis: At work. Footer: Can anybody verify you...
I like old stuff, too. And new stuff, and hard stuff and soft stuff—if it’s music, I like.) She comes back to the graveyard twice more the next week. No, really, I’m not hiding behind an oak tree and staring at her like some kind of psycho. I was working nearby. I’m just … on a break. And stuff. ...
Jets of fire blast out of her eyes. Haggerty stands beside my desk, shaking her head and telling me how disappointed she is that I didn’t turn in the outline for our Emily paper. “It’s not like you to be irresponsible, Chan.” Haggerty’s white eyebrows join over her nose, and her frown reaches all...