“My love, my love, America
Your reproachful security guards
Have a Hopper-like solitude in their eyes”


When They Come

Used To Love Him

My love could have been a Thomas


When I am old

In Paris they ask the right questions

A different ending is still an ending

A decade without

Home, briefly

A song for your birthday



A statement on the state of things

Summer night Kiev blues

Chyorny Dnepr: Mermaid Song

The lieutenant in you

Uppity lady writer wanted bodily autonomy and respect. What happened next will not surprise you!

His Sin, Her Soul: On Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita

I am not your monkey: on motherhood, art, and presumptuous bullshit

On the work of Kate Atkinson

Why it sucks to be a journalist

Jack of hearts


My Family is Available to Validate Your Single, Childfree Lifestyle

Please remember that it’s your donations that allow me to write ❤

No guilt-trip, just good times