Years ago, I had a so-called “legit” job. I wrote about business for my dad’s company. I didn’t know anything about the subject at the time, and I learned very little while writing about it. At least, I learned very little about “business” as our…

AS a novelist, I spend most of my time alone, haunting my apartment in Midway like some kind of keyboard-clacking ghost. That’s not to say I don’t try to get out some.

The brilliance of the Soap Factory’s Haunted Basement as a marketing scheme cannot be emphasized enough. That’s not to say that it’s brilliant art, but it’s damn entertaining, and obviously a great way to get people in the door and on the mailing list.

If you follow the circuitous series of events that prompted her to write the mystery Where’s Billie?, that’s where it begins

mnartists.org’s resident travel writer, Sean Smuda, weighs his experience in the artist-run art fair off the tip of Manhattan during one hurricane-crazed, pre-Occupied week in New York City.

Connie Wanek gives a close reading of the long-awaited poetry collection by Cary Waterman, BOOK OF FIRE, just published by Nodin Press, situating it within the poet’s larger body of work.

HOW DO WE TALK ABOUT THE THINGS THAT ARE HARD TO TALK ABOUT? Perhaps we must begin in a small, dark space: a cave, an underground tunnel, a windowless room. That way we’re forced to move with care, to use words thoughtfully and listen with honest ears. We should breathe softly in such a space; there’s no room for hot air. And when our limbs cramp, when we become disoriented, we have to stay put, with only…

I WENT WITH MUCH ANTICIPATION TO DANA WEISER’S SHOW at Burnet Gallery, Who Are You ?!? (PDF), assuming that the hard questions she asks about adoption, ethnicity and identity within her collection of pretty sculptures, ornate drawings and etched mirrors, would speak to me. Korean-born Weiser was raised in Minnesota by Jewish adoptive parents and now lives in Los Angeles. I expected, as an adoptee of Asian…

SOME THINGS HAPPENED A COUPLE OF MONTHS AGO that, up until they actually took place, I never truly believed would happen. First of all, I turned forty, which is both significant and nothing, really. I have no idea what it means, but I am certain it must mean something. For a long time, that age seemed remote to me, theoretical even. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t believe I would make it to forty, but that…