Hello, traveler! If you’re reading this, perhaps you found one of these. ➡️ My name is June and I’m a writer from Long Island. My first novel, Jobs for Girls with Artistic Flair, will be in bookstores on June 21. (Though you can pre-order it now, if you like setting yourself up for fun surprises …
Jobs for Girls with Artistic Flair is now available at your local bookstore, at Bookshop.org, and all the usual big guys. If you’re interested in having me speak with your book club, high school or college class, or speak at an event, email june.gervais.writer@gmail.com. Review of Jobs for Girls in The Common literary magazine “Rarely is a book as …
When I was 19 years old, I started writing a novel about a tattoo artist named Gina Mulley. Over many years and 15+ drafts, almost everything about the book has changed. But its soul is intact, and Gina Mulley the tattoo artist is still here, and I’m here too, with this good news: My novel, Jobs …
I was sitting in the back row of ninth-grade math class and passing notes with my friend Rob, who liked Pearl Jam as much as I did. Rob and I were not exactly troublemakers but we were also definitely not Cool Kids and school was just so stupid and we were sort of mischievous. So …
“If I’m going to tell you the story of how I lost two people who were closer than blood to me, I have to begin here in Dennett, Texas, during the summer between the sophomore and junior years of my life. This story begins as it ends, with me, Cirilo Izquierdo, waiting for what all …
A little music in honor of St. Paddy’s Day. As I wrote in an essay for Cordella recently, I fell in love with traditional Irish music as a struggling teenager, when a wonderful teacher introduced me to it. This music felt visceral and wild as any Nirvana bootleg and put an ecstatic hum alongside my heartaches. …
Continued from last week’s post, Field Notes from a Mother/Artist. It happened like this: One day I packed up my toddler son and my notebook and headed for the playroom at the public library, in hopes that the little one would amuse himself while I squeezed in a little writing. I settled in with my …
I have observed: The raising of both novels and toddlers involves urgency and mess. Both yell cryptic phrases at you, which they expect you to decipher and translate to the rest of the world. Both involve days of difficult, unpaid work that is, for years, invisible to the rest of the world. Also: Both will …
My bones started to creak. This seemed weird for a very healthy lady in her thirties. Or—it seems weird now. When it started, I wasn’t paying attention. We humans log so many bits of data in the course of a day; they don’t always nicely and promptly arrange themselves into patterns for us. Yes, I …