According to the powers that be (er, apparently according to Dan Wickett of the Emerging Writers Network), May is Short Story Month. To celebrate, for the second year in a row, the Literary Hub staff will be recommending a single short story, free* to read online, every (work) day of the month. Why not read along with us? Today, we recommend: “Letter...

As crocuses bloom and pollen kicks up, we enter wedding season. Weddings, with their abundant rites, tend to call up a lot. There’s the psychological freight. The expenses. The freak-outs inevitable when two families collide. We say a wedding is about the love of two people, but a wedding ceremony involves a whole village of combustible forces. Often...

TODAY: In 1925, Mexican poet and author Rosario Castellanos is born.  Want to be a writer? Follow Ursula K. Le Guin’s advice. | Lit Hub Craft Ed Simon recommends Langston Hughes, Dorothy Barker, Geoff Dyer, and more books on jazz in honor of Duke Ellington. | Lit Hub Reading Lists “In the world of eastern Slavic nations, Kyiv is just like Rome...

This first appeared in Lit Hub’s Craft of Writing newsletter—sign up here. How do you become a writer? Answer: you write. It’s amazing how much resentment and disgust and evasion this answer can arouse. Even among writers, believe me. It is one of those Horrible Truths one would rather not face. The most frequent evasive tactic is for the would-be...

I had a conversation recently with a friend whose debut memoir is coming out soon, about the dread he feels at the idea of his father reading his book. I think pretty much every memoirist faces a version of this critical moment—when we have to face the fact that all of the vulnerable, private stuff we somehow convinced ourselves to pour onto the page...

The Final City (to the soul of my soul) In the ruins of this final city, in this night of nights, by your small bed torn apart by monsters, I stand naked, stripped of myself and of everything. With these scarce hands I cradle you. I embrace you and lift you up, as far as my heart can reach. How light you are now, my little one,...