by Susanna Solomon It wasn’t my fault Lilly was blue. She was born that way. I’d heard about it over the Internet, this litter of blue puppies, and like most things I’d read online, I didn’t believe a word of it. But when I went over to Dr. Trent’s house two weeks later and saw...
Our November Reading, produced by Peninsula Literary, videotaped by Midpen Media, is now online. Featuring Tarweed writer, Tania Martin, Nona Caspers, Joey Garcia, Bob Dickerson, Deborah Kennedy, Tanu Wakefield, and artist Trevlyn Williams, and introduced by Jean Znidarsic and Carrie Hechtman.
by Chance Penway When a hillside shed in their San Francisco neighborhood mysteriously burns, Fran and Alford, can’t resist taking a look. What they discover while poking around in the cinders reveals the unexplained death of an unforgettable woman. Their obsession with her fate puts them in the crosshairs of a killer. The Flophouse Murders...
Shivasana is the story of a yoga school, where the teachings include a murderous quest for enlightenment. Excerpts: The dining hall was full of books, beat up antiques, and instruments hippies used to play. Yellowed chandeliers hung low over the tables. On the buffet were platters of fruit, pots of hot cereal, and tureens of eggs. Judy took her...
Once upon a time, Bo and his baby brother Arthur lived with their parents in a cabin high on the snowy snowy mountain. One winter day, Bo and Arthur were playing in their snowsuits on the porch. When they got hungry, Bo went inside to get them some food. Arthur was alone on the porch for the first time. He felt the sun shining on him through the...
a group of children were fleeing a kindly man. though he was kind and was not dangerous, the children knew he would turn them over to people who would harm them. and so they ran. they were in a different dimension, a fever dream of bright colors and impossible architecture and church roofs that arched high above candy floss clouds and ikea chairs...
When I was a girl, I lived on an island. Nobody lived there but me, my brother, and my dad. In the evenings, all my work done, I wandered the sandy trails through trees hung with moss, until I came to one or another beach. There were five beaches, each with its own character. My favorite was Swimming Beach. Swimming beach had sand sloping into...
