Portland Review Editor Jessica Fonvergne spoke with some of this year’s fiction authors to explore process, revision, and the value of prose.
“The third indicator of spring is the arrival of prospective businessmen. They enter the woods and go from tree to tree, soliciting ‘lucrative opportunities’ to the area. One of them had long legs and a short torso. His skin was smooth and reflective.”
“He flourished the tickets last Saturday…You were stepping out of your slip-ons. The daycare was a mess; the babies had passed around a cold and their whines stuck in your head, like the shadows bodies leave on walls after explosions.”
“The girls grew up too fast, painted their eyes with glitter on Halloween and vanished under black cloaks and lace stockings, hiding their long faces and broken cherries from the boys sleeping in shadows outside Mr. Pink’s Deli, the lingerie shop on Seventh Avenue, their front step once their daddies turned the light out.”
Arthur awakes in the golden wood. He has dreamed of a silver cup or a stone that fell from the sky. He cannot remember which and wonders if it matters. The campfire has gone out….