reviewed by James Dickson
May 4th, 2015 | 6:00am

Most of us who are over 20 can point to a few big events that set us on the road to adulthood. For the never-named narrator of M.O. Walsh’s debut novel, My Sunshine Away, it was the rape of his teen crush during her sophomore (his freshman) year of high school, Lindy Simpson. The narrator and Lindy have been neighbors since grade school, during which time he has harbored an innocent, but obsessive love for her. The search for the unseen rapist—who knocked her off her bike and forced her face into the ground—brings all the neighborhood oddballs into suspicion. It also brings the narrator closer to realizing his puppy-like fantasy. Unfortunately, he implicates himself in the process, in multiple ways. 

April 30th, 2015 | 6:00am

Welcome readers and listeners! This is The Common Contributor Podcast from The Common magazine. Every other month, we invite our contributors to read and discuss each others work. This month, we discuss two pieces from Issue 06: the essay “Big Not-So-Bad Wolves” by Leigh Newman and the story “They Called it Shooting Then” by Tyler Sage.

Photo by Flickr Creative Commons user Robert Linsdell
April 29th, 2015 | 6:00am

Photo by Flickr Creative Commons user Robert Linsdell

Even viewed from a distance, the harborfront tests the capacities of peripheral vision, tall masts and rigging far off to the right, and in front of us, here, clumsy, rectangular structures painted white with enormous, clear windows that darken in the afternoons.

The light here is blue, like the water, like the eyes of middle-aged tourists who occasionally study our movements. My attention is drawn to a parking lot next to the largest of the structures, where gulls disperse and enclose the comings and goings of visitors like water adapting itself to the spill of large rocks. A breeze seems to lift them, shaving off feathers of white from their wings. It’s a remarkable sight.

April 27th, 2015 | 6:00am

We were on the small roads that sometimes turn gravel, sometimes dead end, when we found it. This was Vermont, about ten years ago, our first road trip together: a circuit of swimming holes, picnics, and stops for general store ice cream. We passed a series of “Take Back Vermont” signs. Somewhere along the way we came upon the man, who by all appearances seemed to be a Hare Krishna devotee, having a yard sale. It was here in the sunny warm greenness that we found THE PEOPLE’S CYCLOPEDIA OF UNIVERSAL KNOWLEDGE, WITH NUMEROUS APPENDIXES INVALUABLE FOR REFERENCE IN ALL DEPARTMENTS OF INDUSTRIAL LIFE. BROUGHT DOWN TO THE YEAR 1885.

April 24th, 2015 | 6:00am

Issue 09 is here! Read Sujata Shekar’s short story “Between the Lines,” and pick up a copy of Issue 09 today.

The morning of the announcement, Bo Htet Aung finished his story. He wrote The End at the bottom of the page, shut the notebook, and slipped it into the briefcase he took to work each day. Then he set about ironing a white shirt and blue longyi with more than his usual precision. He wished he could wear his old major's uniform, with its crisp olive lines and the peaked cap that added two inches to his height. But it was not that kind of day, that kind of announcement. Instead he pulled his traditional taikpon jacket on over his shirt and left it unbuttoned. His fingers shook too much. . . . [Click here to read on...]