Lit Creative Nonfiction

Her blade sliced through the air, leaving a faint ringing sound in its wake. She was poised perfectly for the touch; her lunge extended...

i have been a sufferer of depression since 2009, i used to be bullied for many different reasons, for the way i dressed, for...

after Dean Rader   Katherine Du is the reincarnation of her great-grandmother who ascended within the hour of her birth, a stern believer in having faith,...

Mom hands me a wrapped package and unsuccessfully tries to suppress a smile. String lights on the Christmas tree in the living room flash...

I don’t really want to be doing this, and if I could stop writing this very second I would. It started like this: I was the...

"I’m bored, Mom." My twelve-year-old daughter, Mita, spat out the words. I knew this was a prelude to the next question, and it came...

“Where do you go when you die?”  I was driving my son down the road on Christmas evening a few years ago. He’d just...

You knew you wanted to be a writer when you read Nancy Drew in your backyard with the Go-Go’s playing on KFRC, a jar of...

My hands do not tremble as I thought they would. They remain steady on the steering wheel of my 1969 VW Bug, a car...

That Sunday night in 1966, when I was nine, my father, mother, thirteen-year-old brother, and I watched The Ed Sullivan Show in our dark...