[PANK] is beautiful



My issue of PANK arrived, from supporting their funding drive. It is a beautiful thing. Weighty. Smooth but not glossy. It even smells nice. And the stories and poems inside are tasty. I’ve only read a few so far, but they are delights. I’m proud to have been published in their webzine. My story “We’re All Guys Here” was published last July.

[PANK] is awesome and deserves your support. Go spank their coffers.

pank 2


I’m out and about. Last post before BoucherCon.

The good folks at [PANK] interviewed me about my story in their July issue, “We’re All Guys Here.” We talk Chekhovian endings and guns that have to go off.

I am also at Julianna Baggott’s We Represent the 47 Percent blog, where writers put a human face to folks who have used government help. I went to college with assistance from a Pell Grant. My grandparents went on Relief after an accident. My great-uncle Jimmy is in a VA hospital right now. We all paid back the government’s investment in us many times over.



My short story “We’re All Guys Here” appears in this month’s issue of [PANK] Magazine. What does PANK mean? No one knows. It could mean to lightly spank, or to tamp down.

Edited by Roxane Gay, M. Bartley Siegel, and Brad Green, it surely stands for good poetry and fiction, and I’m proud to join the illustrious legions of the panked. I needed a good panking… go get yours.

Review: Ayiti

Ayiti by Roxane Gay

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

When I received this book, I did not know what Ayiti meant. It is the Haitian Creole pronunciation of Haiti, of course, but Americans have a preconception of the country. Our media tells us what to think of Haiti. It is a hopeless place. Dictators. Tragedy. They can’t govern themselves, we need our soldiers there, to treat them like little children. After reading Roxane Gay’s short stories, I have a better idea of the place and the people. I wouldn’t profess to know it, but her raw and emotional tales of love and loss, hate and pride, the defensiveness and criticism of a country that only someone who has lived there and left and returned can give, they paint a picture that will forever remain in your mind. Some stories are a mere page long, flash fiction, short sharp cuts that sting long after the page is turned. Longer works are dreamlike and engrossing, immigrant tales, survival tales, as dark and brutal as hardboiled crime fiction with their relentless truth and emotional power.
“Things I Know About Fairy Tales” is a story of a kidnapping that hangs over my shoulder like a ghost with fetid breath, days after reading it. [A Love Story], a zombi tale, chilled me to the bone. A ledger book of expenses required to escape on a boat to Miami made me want to curl up and eat my own heart. But there is also joy and playfulness, as a Haitian girl confronts the ignorance of her college friends, and a news article that Nicaragua is now the poorest country in the Western hemisphere is rife with her darkly cynical humor.
I was surprised and impressed, and I’ll be lending this book to readers and writers alike. A slim 120 pages, it can be read in an afternoon. I’ll warn you, it packs emotional power that belies its size, and you’d do best to savor one story at a time.

View all my reviews