This issue of Broken Pencil lists the results of the Indie Writer’s Deathmatch, in which Nana K. Adjei-Brenyah emerged victorious.
natalie zina walschots
It’s snowing. A lot. Last night my power went out for three hours, and I had to work in the dark, my only illumination candlelight and the fading glow of a dying laptop. As a result, once again, my kitten’s eyebrows have gone all curly. She’s adorable, but more than a little stupid when it comes to
Most of my time is spent reading, writing and waiting for the mail man. He arrives most days between 9 and 3 pm. I try to work in the time I’m waiting, but seconds after he leaves I’m up and at the door, checking to see what’s come in. Today I received a rejection which invited me
A varied month. 50. Twenty-Seventh City, by Jonathan Franzen (Picador , 1988, 2001) To backtrack, I really liked The Corrections, and thought The Discomfort Zone was pretty good, but I felt like I kept waiting for Twenty-Seventh City to make sense. At its most bare, it’s the story of a conspiracy by a group of people to destroy