This latest installment of Bourbon and Milk (in which writer-parents tackle the ins and outs of working while raising little ones) features authors Casey Fleming, Greg Brown, Manuel Gonzales, Miah Arnold, Joshua Rivkin, Lacy M. Johnson, Alyssa Knickerbocker, Joshua Furst and ASF‘s own Giuseppe Taurino on the tricky issue of discussing the 2016 election and this week’s inauguration of Donald J. Trump […]
I confess, I get a little impatient when I hear graduate students with teaching assistantships—that is, students who not only aren’t paying tuition but who are being paid—say they don’t have time to write. Which is not to say that I didn’t feel exactly the same way when I was a graduate student with a teaching assistantship. But what I want to tell them now is, if they’ll only be able to write once they finish their coursework […]
Welcome to the third annual holiday edition of Bourbon and Milk. Once again, with a nod towards the thankfulness many of us associate with the holidays—a thankfulness steeped in both the warmth and the insanity of family—we asked five writer-parents to identify and write about “crappy” literary parents, and five non-parents to chime in on “exemplary” ones. […]
Bourbon and Milk is an ongoing series that dives into the perplexing spaces parenting sometimes pushes us and explores the unexpected ways writers may grow in them. If you’re interested in joining the conversation or contributing a Bourbon and Milk post, query Giuseppe Taurino at firstname.lastname@example.org. — It’s five a.m., and I’m thinking of how my […]
We’d just finished dinner and Z was sitting on my lap. At the opposite end of the table, P was sipping a well-deserved glass of wine. “Is today Tuesday, Daddy?” Z said. “Today’s Wednesday,” I said, and without warning began to tickle and nuzzle her until she was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. […]
One of our two cats died recently—Mr. Melo. He was the older of the pair, and the first pet my wife and I ever adopted. We spent his entire last day in vet offices before finally admitting him to an animal clinic around 7 P.M., hopeful but worried. Around 10 o’clock, my wife called the clinic and was told Melo was as comfortable as he could be under the circumstances. An hour later, I got a call back informing me he was dead.