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LONGFORM CREATIVE NONFICTION

Image is a color photograph of a yellow toy ambulance; title card for the new creative nonfiction essay, "The Novel, The Map," by Hannah Grieco.

The Novel, The Map by Hannah Grieco

February 14, 2024

  Content Warning—suicidal ideation in a child   Right after my forty-sixth birthday, I begin writing a novel. It’s about a mother who loses all sense of personal identity while taking care of her very ill son. A mother who…

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Image is a color photograph of a judge's gavel and a pink piggy bank; title card for the new creative nonfiction essay, "Pawn," by Starr Davis.

Pawn by Starr Davis

January 17, 2024

  I am on the East Side of Columbus, Ohio. One street over from Lev’s Pawn Shop is an abandoned storefront where I met my ex-lover when we were in high school. He cuts hair now in a barbershop on…

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Image is a color photograph of person looking at a bike; title card for the new creative nonfiction essay, "Hott Lipps" by Matthew Clark Davison.

Hott Lipps by Matthew Clark Davison

November 15, 2023

  “Breaker one-nine, breaker one-nine. This is Hott Lipps. Anybody out there?” I release the button, light a cigarette, take a drag, then exhale. Today, no E., and almost nothing but static on the CB radio. The space heater tries, but…

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Image is a color photograph of a rusted helmet on display; title card for the new creative nonfiction essay, "This Shattering" by Wiam El-Tamami.

This Shattering by Wiam El-Tamami

September 13, 2023

  just before dawn   I. It started in the daytime, my sister says, I remember the light. We were watching TV. Mama and Baba were in their room, asleep. We heard noises that sounded like fireworks. It happened at…

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Image shows six cartons of fresh red raspberries from above on a wooden table; title card for the new creative nonfiction essay, "How We Carry the Weight of It," by Will McMillan.

How We Carry the Weight of It by Will McMillan

August 16, 2023

  We arrive in the raspberry fields when it’s dark. It’s dark when we pile out of our secondhand pickup. My father, my mother. My brother and me. It’s dark when we start walking the rutted, sopping dirt road that…

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Image shows two pairs of open scissors taped to a white background; title card for Hybrid Writing Contest first-place winner, "Split Ends," by Rowan McCandless.

Split Ends by Rowan McCandless

July 28, 2023

  When my mother died, I inherited a sizeable goldenrod-coloured envelope; inside, I discovered birthday cards given to me from family members throughout my childhood, handmade get-well cards crafted by classmates upon the occasion of having one of several surgeries…

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Image shows the corner of a mid-70s-style living room with an old CRTV on a table in the center of the frame; title card for the second-place Hybrid Writing Contest winner, "The Babysitter," by Andrew Borneman.

The Babysitter by Andrew Borneman

July 21, 2023

“My memory serves me far too well.” —George Michael   1979 I’ve heard the story a hundred times. Fourteen phone call attempts before my mother snagged my brother’s first babysitter, Sarah, a quick-witted high school sophomore. She showed up from…

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Image shows a top-down view of blue-green water pooling on white sand in Latvia; title card for the Hybrid Writing Contest third-place winner, "Four Words Whispered on a Smoky Field," by Baņuta Rubess.

Four Words Whispered on a Smoky Field by Baņuta Rubess

July 14, 2023

      BAŅUTA RUBESS pioneered feminist theatre and contemporary opera to national renown in Canada and Latvia. She has lived in four countries and writes in two languages. She has written plays, libretti, radio drama, television biopics, stories, and…

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Image shows an open drawer filled with tattoo ink, photographed in black and white; title card for 2022 Creative Nonfiction Award winner, "On Possessing a Body," by Lotte Mitchell Reford.

On Possessing a Body by Lotte Mitchell Reford

June 28, 2023

  Content Warning—disordered eating   I At night, I find myself lying in bed near bursting with memory, as if something gone could still rip through me and flower. And yes I let myself get hungrier. It feels impossible to…

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Image shows a vintage car parked alongside an empty parking space fronting a red brick wall; title card for 2022 Creative Nonfiction Award winner, "What I Do and Don't Remember from the Days and Nights of Endlessly Smoking Crack and Shooting Heroin," by Christian Bodney.

What I Do and Don’t Remember from the Days and Nights of Endlessly Smoking Crack and Shooting Heroin by Christian Bodney

June 21, 2023

  It’s all a blur. It can be separated into two five-year periods: using alone and using with Haley. Haley had piercings everywhere: the bridge of her nose, her septum, her nipples, her belly button. She had stretched lobes—one had…

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