You might want to avoid reading Andrea Abreu’s gloriously visceral Dogs of Summer around meal times.

In recent years, non-fiction publishing trends have graced the earth’s commuters with a steady diet of proto-political memoirs from authors who rose from economic instability to occupy more-or-less esteemed positions in professional society.

Imagine this. You’re six, and you’re playing in the sand pit arranging piles of grainy earth into neat, abstract pyramids.

Garrett Stack’s debut collection of poetry, Yeoman’s Work, paints the world of the working-class using all the hues of a blue-collar pallet.

If I write that Vivian Maier was a photographer, you'll misunderstand.

We’re in someone’s kitchen; a kid is sitting on the floor.

The cover of David Shields’ The Very Last Interview features a blurred man in a suit and tie, his skin an inhuman green.

Chasing Homer by László Krasznahorkai is a novella that defies and transcends summarization.

Explicit vulnerability in the face of great evil renders the vulnerable both a target and a champion of resilience against oppression.

Can dating advice ever be universal?

There is perhaps no archetype of sisterly devotion as enduringly popular as Little Women’s March girls.

“A man can dwell inside a city,” writes Conor Bracken in “Shock & Awe,” “and leave untouched / but what man is there can dwell // within the chambers of another man / and stay himself?”

It should come as little surprise to fans of Kathryn Davis that at the beginning of her latest book, Aurelia, Aurélia, she expresses her fondness for both the television series Lost and the middle section of Virginia Woolf’s To The Lighthouse.

Cody-Rose Clevidence’s Aux Arc Trypt Ich is a book of three books, a standout achievement in the poet’s relatively brief career of un-relatively prolific output—in addition to two chapbooks, the triptych is the author’s fourth full-length collection, and their third since 2018.

For climate archaeologists, collecting core samples from arctic ice offers a look back in time and a glimpse into an uncertain future.

Cookie Mueller was a writer and artist of many persuasions.

Diane Wilson’s The Seed Keeper is prefaced with the poem “The Seeds Speak,” told from the perspective of stored seeds.

Christine Hume’s experimental autobiography Saturation Project is about the dissolving of its subject—or maybe, even, The Subject.

In Leviathan, Thomas Hobbes states that human life is “nasty, brutal, and short” because people, left to their own devices, are naturally vicious.

“There’s a long version and a short version of how I lost all my money,” says Michael Mixner, the male protagonist in Adam Wilson’s Sensation Machines, 44 pages into the author’s latest novel.