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Silence, Silencing, and Rape Culture: a meditation in three parts

When I received an email recently from an unknown sender and cryptically titled “from your least favorite writer,” I was intrigued. NOT me and the letter-writer chumming around. Turns out, the author...

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Body Lessons (Genealogy of an Orgasm)

[CN: rape, rape’s aftermath, emotional abuse.] ⊗ ⊗ ⊗ Shame blocks our mouths like the fat tongue of an unwelcome lover. A questing tongue that corks our voice in the back of our throat, our own tongue...

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13 Partly-Feminist Ideas for What to Write About When You’ve Decided to Do a...

So. I’m supposed to be doing a cleanse this week. Nothing quacky or dietary-related—I promise I am not going all-juice or detoxifying my elecrolytes or any other form of woo approved only by the Dr. Oz...

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The Autobiography of E. Alice Isak

dedicated, with love “A rose is a rose is a rose is a rose.” ~ Gertrude Stein “I rise is I rise is I rise is I rise.” ~ Alice Isak 🌹 🌹 🌹 My name is Alice Isak, and I feel like a woman reborn. Risen...

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Quiet please. The vulvas are talking.

I spent my afternoon, as one is wont to do, getting interviewed on my thoughts regarding vaginas and vulvas. (As one is wont to do, WHEN ONE IS ME, I should perhaps have specified.) I’ll share that...

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Within Every New Beginning Lies an Ending

  The story of this blog begins, as all good adventures do, with a quest: In May 2012, a woman stops. Already retreated almost to the beginning of herself, she thinks: “Only death could be more...

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Writing in a Time of Plague

The first time I wrote on this blog in my truest voice, it was a declaration of independence from audience. “I am done speaking to the bodies of men,” I pronounced; “To the helpmeets of men.” I decided...

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A Father’s Daughter’s Hand Firmly Grips the Pen

[CN: sexual assault, incest] Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: Once upon a time, a beautiful maiden in possession of all her limbs [so every version of the Armless Maiden begins] lived in the...

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In the Boneyard, Too, Bright Flowers Bloom

“The heart I hold tightly within my chest, tightly holds me back.” Three years ago today, I wrote these words. They became the title of what I consider this blog’s first true post: a manifesto defying...

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Now turns the fallow earth in grief and also light.

I am in the shower tonight. For over an hour. Again. Seems I cannot shower enough during these dark, chilling days of autumn. For reasons I still find curious. What reasons, you ask. I could tell you....

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