
A Tsunami Isn’t a Metaphor
When I started writing the vignettes that would eventually become my book Tsunami, I started with the day of tsunami itself.
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When I started writing the vignettes that would eventually become my book Tsunami, I started with the day of tsunami itself.

I might have ordered and read Summer Stewart’s MOTHER! even if the author didn’t happen to be my friend and colleague.

Before the Indian Ocean rose to swallow coastlines and rewrite modern history, the day opened with an ordinary cup of coffee.

Move over, chosen ones.

PORTLAND, Ore. August 11, 2026 — On December 26, 2004, LeeAnn Pickrell was drinking coffee near the beach in Rai Leh, Thailand, when the ocean disappeared.

What do we owe the people who have loved us when there is no longer enough time to become an entirely different person?

When I was abroad recently, I was asked: “How does the Trump regime impact your daily life in Southern California?” I am a White, privileged, US citizen of Medicare age, so I understand why the impac…

Some towns hold their secrets tight, and then some towns surrender them to the water.

The structures of classics Dubliners and Winesburg, Ohio were in my mind during my first attempt at creating a story collection.

Every Leo season, the internet produces the same damn person.

You’ve published short fiction across five decades.