An Interview with Sarah Carson

Sarah Carson’s new collection of prose poems, Buick City, begins with freight trains rattling past Flint’s closed automotive plants, and ends with a mechanic spitting on the city’s grave.

2016-02-02T23:32:05-05:00May 14, 2015|

Redevelopment by Numbers in York, PA

Fueling vibrancy in a postindustrial city is a daunting task. Economic redevelopment, no matter how you slice it, can be exorbitantly expensive, snail-paced, and risky. Like many of its industry-starved brethren across the Rust Belt ...

2015-04-19T11:14:14-04:00April 16, 2015|

Ballad of a Pencil Junkie

In the old days at The New Yorker, when your pencil point got dull, you just tossed it aside and picked up a new one. There was an office boy who came around in the morning with a tray of freshly sharpened wooden pencils.

2015-04-18T23:34:22-04:00April 7, 2015|

Being Ernie Krivda

“Play me something” says the tenor master during our first lesson together. I squirm uncomfortably in my socks, having left my shoes at the door of the immaculate if modest music studio.

2015-03-17T09:25:47-04:00March 17, 2015|