The Literary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA
Stonecoast Review The Literary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA Sir, Ma’am, Sorry Creative Non-Fiction By Cass Peterson I step up to the counter at the café to order. The young man behind the counter says with cheer, What can I get you this morning, Sir?…
Stonecoast Review The Literary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA Cloud Seeding Creative Non-Fiction By Sandra Carlson Khalil In Dubai, we are not allowed to gather in protest. We are not allowed to display a foreign flag, so two weeks after the fighting begins, my children…
Stonecoast Review The Literary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA On Voice: Writing In a Time of Fear Creative Non-Fiction By Tina Carson An earlier version of this essay originally appeared on Tina’s substack under the title Ugly Algorithms: Another Thing Being Tina Taught Me. The purpose of…
Stonecoast Review The Literary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA Sydney Lea: Champion of the Maine Storytelling TraditionA Conversation with Susan Conley Creative Non-Fiction Sydney Lea speaks with Susan Conley Susan: It’s been so good to connect thirty-four years after we last talked poetry at Middlebury…
Stonecoast Review The Literary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA Sixteen Steps to Eating a Potato Creative Non-Fiction By Shawna Ervin 1 Choose a tray—red, orange, green, or blue. Notice the scratches. Grab a plastic plate, a napkin, silverware still warm. 2 Notice the leaves on trees…
Stonecoast Review The Literary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA What to Do with Rage Creative Non-Fiction By Sydney Lea The icy morning finds me in bed, engrossed in a book of John Singer Sargent’s watercolors. The thought of staying under the covers all but overwhelms me.…
By Sydney Lea
This guy from the Netherlands grated on me and on all our doctoral peers whenever, with his heavily accented but perfect English, he held forth in our European Literature class.
Stonecoast Review The Literary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA Silent Night Creative Non-Fiction By Ariel Ambers I know what a church pew feels like; to sit on, to touch, to be watched by. I know that even the most comfortable of pews can feel cold. Just…
Things I Wanted to Say are Locked Behind the Uvula Creative Non-Fiction By Juheon Rhee So when I didn’t say the things I wanted to say, I had hoped you would know. Do you remember? You’ll shake your head. We’ve become…
Smoke Out of the Jar Creative Non-Fiction By Nuala O’Connor In my childhood home, difficult things were stored like smoke in a tight- lidded jar. Hurts, ills, and problems were a visible miasma through the glass, but they would sit in…