The Writing Life

Two years ago, when I was living in Mexico City in a rented room that faced a noisy gas station and made me an insomniac for the first time in my life, I got the news that my book...

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Women We Read This Week

Anna Whiston-Donaldson on a son's death; Michelle Herman on her father's death; Ann Bauer on adjuncting; Heather Havrilesky on prayer.

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Bookmarked

Sarah Menkedick recommends four books on early motherhood. "One of the many surprises of pregnancy was the craving I developed for literature, not too distant in its urgency from the craving for Haribo gummy raspberries."

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Body Of Work

I read eyes and gestures, scars and tattoos. I read gathering films of sweat, fleeting looks, the shift of weight and the movement of eyelashes. I live for that moment before the photo is taken, the one when...

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Placed

Serbia. For me: baklava, sarma, palacinke, family, roots, the old country. For the uninitiated: a small landlocked country in southeastern Europe separated from the rest of the continent by the Danube river in the north, and from the Mediterranean by the Alps in the west.

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On Repeat

As much as we seek out new experiences, repeated ones define a huge part of our lives. And it’s not just mundane routines that dominate, but the places we return to in our travels, books we reread, conversations we have over and over again...

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Recent

Photo: Alice Driver

My Own Trap

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Two years ago, when I was living in Mexico City in a rented room that faced a noisy gas station and made me an insomniac for the first time in my life, I got the news that my book, More or Less Dead: Feminicide, Haunting, and the Ethics of Representation in Mexico, would be published.

Photo: Jorge Santiago

A Wilderness of Waiting

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In the eighth month of my nine-month human pregnancy, I go on a binge-Googling of animal gestation periods. Frilled sharks, I discover, gestate for 42 months. Elephants take 22 months. Sperm whales: 16. Walruses: 15. Rhinos: 14.

Photo: Margot Gabel

Dream Body

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When I found out I was pregnant, I was training for a half marathon. I was also swimming regularly, about five times a week, sometimes with a club. I hadn’t been that fit in years; maybe I had never been that fit. I certainly remember thinking…

Photo: Mark H. Anbinder

Accidents

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I break the surface and sink again. I kick upwards, furiously, but I do not move. I do not move. My mind is blank and calm. I picture our neighbor’s empty pool in winter, and how it fills with dead leaves. Someone grabs my upper arm.

Written by Women: A Manifesto

By Sarah Menkedick Read the story