As long as there are tiny rural towns to pass on long and nearly empty stretches of country highway, the ones that you sometimes wonder about for days after stopping there for gas, and as long as writers like Thomas Maltman are around to tell the stories of these places and the people in them, then regionalism will never die. In his latest novel, Little Wolves, Thomas Maltman appoints himself the scribe, as Steinbeck did with the central California coast, Twain did with Missouri and its river folk, Cather with the Nebraska plains, and Faulkner with the deep South, of an often overlooked corner of America’s massively diverse landscape: Minnesota. Read More »
25th March, 2015
Last night, my sons helped border cupcake pan pits with heart-print liners. They dragged old wooden chairs to the counter where they lawlessly poured, mixed, tasted, and baked. After the cakes were cooled, the brothers decked them out—dumping on piles of chocolate icing and pouring on copious amounts of heart shaped sprinkles.
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10th March, 2015