The Plot Against America

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Friday, January 20th, 2017 | 1,840 views

The Plot Against America

Philip Roth’s 2004 novel, The Plot Against America presciently predicted the rise of American fascism. An alternate history set during the 1940 presidential election, the character of Philip Roth narrates the story of his family living in Newark, New Jersey as Charles Lindbergh challenges the presidential election of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and the aftermath of a fascist President.

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Mary Miller discusses Always Happy Hour with Helen Ellis

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Tuesday, January 17th, 2017 | 1,057 views

Mary Miller reads from her story collection ALWAYS HAPPY HOUR

Mary Miller was at Greenlight Bookstore to discuss her latest story collection, Always Happy Hour, with Helen Ellis, author of the hilarious story collection American Housewife.

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An Interview with Wendy Fox

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Wednesday, January 11th, 2017 | 1,325 views

Wendy J Fox is the author of The Pull of It and The Seven Stages of Anger and Other Stories. She first met Lisa Morrow in Turkey, and for a time were both neighbors in the same apartment block. Ten years have passed, but the two recently caught up to discuss Fox’s new book.

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2016 in Review

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Tuesday, January 3rd, 2017 | 1,134 views

By all accounts, 2016 could have been better, and I’m not even talking about the Presidential election or celebrity deaths. The year had just begun when St. Mark’s Bookshop, an East Village staple known for esoteric consignment zines, art books, and poetry, announced it would close for the second time.

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Our Immigrant Origins

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Monday, January 2nd, 2017 | 2,263 views

My family’s undocumented past in America wasn’t known to me until I applied for dual citizenship with Italy not long ago. The vital records I gathered in the process offered a startling new perspective on our lineage, though it didn’t seem to matter much at the time. Some relatives even chuckled over how my great grandfather could’ve spent eighteen years living and working “illegally” as an economic migrant, not becoming naturalized until the 1930s, well after my grandmother was born. No one ever questioned his, or our family’s, place in this country as Americans. After all, his story was the embodiment of the American dream, having escaped the extreme poverty that ravaged the Sicily he knew in search of a better life.

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Reading Series Census: First Tuesdays

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Wednesday, December 28th, 2016 | 1,855 views

First Tuesdays, a Jackson Heights reading series

The New York City Reading Series Census is an ongoing project to catalogue the contemporary literary scene. Any reading series curator in the New York area can take the survey here.

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The Unthinkable

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Monday, December 26th, 2016 | 2,386 views

On election night, I was anxious. I thought Hillary would probably win. The polls were saying she would. Still, I’m a worrier. I started watching early, hoping for good returns. Hoping for 2012. As the returns grew worse, I flipped through the channels faster and faster, desperately hoping for different news, better news. Of course, I didn’t get it.

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My Non-existence Under a Trump Administration

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Monday, December 19th, 2016 | 2,017 views

When my mother patted the black tufts of hair on my head and gazed into my dark eyes for the first time, she was not a U.S. citizen. But, in my newborn pinkness, I was. The year was 1988 and it was an unseasonably warm day in November less than one week after Halloween. I was experiencing the world outside of my mother’s womb in healthy, even breaths that would not have been possible had it not been for my mother’s emergency C-section. With my umbilical cord wound around my neck, my birth was almost my undoing. My tiny mother was exhausted but relieved to welcome all eight pounds of me—alive!—with my American father by her side.

The site of this initial meet and greet was a regional hospital on a long, winding road in my hometown of Arlington, Virginia. As part of the Washington, D.C. metro area, the pipsqueak county may be one of the smallest in the United States, but it has one of the largest Salvadoran populations in the country. This is worth mentioning because my mother is Salvadoran. She, like the majority of her fellow Salvadoran immigrants, came to the United States to escape her homeland’s civil war.

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