The splotchy thing above is a detail from a finger-painting my son did. He has no idea he created it. He just made it and brought it home from school before disappearing beneath a pile of Legos. I pinned the painting up by my desk at work and there it hung for many months until I noticed the intricate webbings inside the mess, and snapped a photo last week. Not sure why, and I’m probably overthinking it a bit, but it feels like I’m supposed to learn something from that somehow. Or not. I just like it.
Meanwhile, I was very happy in May to have two stories in The Brooklyn Rail. They are both very short stories, and appeared in print and online, so if you need a quick read, they’re on the same webpage. One is about death, and the title even says so: “Particles of Death.” The other is about love and is called “The Breath of Life.” I’m grateful to Donald Breckenridge for publishing them.
One quick news item: I am now a contributing editor at The Critical Flame. The submission guidelines will lead you to the Submittable page, but if you’d like to send me a pitch directly, please do—I’m at mattjakubowski at hotmail dot com. The issue on Motherhood is a recent highlight at the journal.
Another item worth a mention: I will have new experimental book review about Bae Suah in the next issue of Full Stop.
And before I go, a few very quick notes about books I’ve read lately: you should check out Joanna Walsh’s mesmerizing and brilliant online story experience, Seed, which was designed to be read on a phone. And if you’ve never read any fiction by Sofia Samatar, which you should, very soon, I am really enjoying A Stranger in Olondria, her first novel, which won several awards.
Summer is so damp in Philly. I don’t like that. But it beats winter, I suppose. So happy summer, if you’re into dampness! (Or happy not-summer, if you’re reading this on a side of the planet that’s cooler right now.)