Emily Uecker
Emily Uecker Prairie Fire Second Runner-up for 2026 American Literary Review Award in Essays, Judged by Ira Sukrungruang On a tallgrass prairie, the majority of the biomass lies below the [...]
Marcia Aldrich
Marcia Aldrich Consent: I Remember I remember the spring of my freshman year at Wells College, while living in Main, I had set up my little Sears electric typewriter that [...]
Wes Jamison
Wes Jamison Amas Veritas First Runner-up for the American Literary Review Award in Essays, Judged by Ira Sukrungruang The frogs were omen—how, one night, when the moon was only a [...]
Rebecca Hanauer
Rebecca Hanauer In the Absence of Findings Winner of the 2026 American Literary Review Award in Essays, Judged by Ira Sukrungruang Premature ventricular contractions (PVCs) are extra beats from the [...]
Sibbie O’Sullivan
Sibbie O’Sullivan Death of a Sweater I remember the day I bought it almost twenty years ago at my local Marshall’s, my first time shopping there. I was bored and [...]
Tori Malcangio
Tori Malcangio I am Ready. I am not Ready. I show up to a post-op appointment I don’t have. The cardiology receptionist tells me I’m three days early; I’ve confused [...]
Christie Tate
Christie Tate Where's the Beef?: Hamburgers, Disordered Eating, and the Lone Star State During a lull in a group therapy session one morning, Jessica turned to our therapist and said, [...]
Zach Miko
Zach Miko Zach and the Beanstalk The first time I realized someone was afraid of me was at a 7th grade dance. Some of the popular kids had started dating [...]
Dayna Bateman
Dayna Bateman Deracination, Or How to Disappear Winner of the 2025 American Literary Review Award in Essays, Judged by Jaquira Díaz deracinate /dɪˈrasɪneɪt/ 1. uproot. 2. to remove or separate [...]
Sharon Kwik
Sharon Kwik Exhibit #116 Sergeant Mohammed pulls out a large cardboard box from under a small table in his office. He starts rifling through the collection of items inside. White [...]
Alison Powell
Alison C. Powell A Reluctant Inventory: Six Lots to be Sold After My Mother Died 1. Item #685: Three Boxes Costume Jewelry—c. 1933-2022 Ivory, Bakelite, Paste. I am wrist-deep in [...]
Annie Crouch
Annie Crouch Arkansas Is full of billboards telling you to find God. Has manners. Blesses your heart. Sounds like myfriend’s mom telling me to get a soda from the garage [...]