- Many of these stories also appear in print. Anything I publish I'll also post here, assuming the editors are willing. So far, all of them have been very reasonable about it.
- Join my newsletter list! This is the best way to hear about readings I might be doing in your area, book releases, and other Mary Anne tidbits. Occasionally I'll also send out early drafts of stories and poems. If you have time to offer critique, that's always very welcome.
- The Poet's Lullaby : The poet decided to have a child. This took her by surprise.
- The Pledge: I pledge allegiance to the flag, of the United States of America.
I used to say those words every morning, five days a week, in homeroom, standing along a bunch of Polish and Irish-American kids, mostly second or third generation. I was born in Sri Lanka, but we came to America when I was just two years old, and I grew up in Connecticut, in a school where I was the only South Asian kid.
- "The Arrival" published in Catamaran, a print journal
- "Sequins" published in Tumbarumba
, a frolic of intrusions
2006
- Revised Itineraries, a nonfiction excerpt from Arbitrary Passions: "'Don't worry -- you can pass,' she said, her voice low, her hand reassuring on my arm."
- Counting to Ten: "Why is it that when your own life is totally fucked up that you try to fix other peoples lives?" "I don't know. You're the big sister, you're supposed to know the answers to these things." "I don't know anything. That's about all I know."
2005
- The Marrying Kind: Leilani
slipped out of bed, pulled on a thin cotton robe, left Jared sleeping. It
was late, and they both had to get up early tomorrow for work. But she
couldn't sleep on a night like tonight -- it was thunderstorm weather, and
they were overdue. The forecasters had been predicting a storm for weeks,
but there had been nothing, nothing but the crackle in the air, the
build-up that never quite discharged. It was driving her slowly
mad.
2004
- Lakshmi's Diary: July 2, 1969 -- My wedding day. Today I'm getting married. Raksha is a handsome man -- smooth skin, nice cheekbones. He's cheerful, generous, and owns his own business, a sari shop. Aunty Easwari has done well by me, though I thought she was going to have a heart attack when I wrote to her and asked her to find me a husband. She protested -- of course my parents, both teachers, would object to my getting married instead of going to college, but I can be just as stubborn as any of my five sisters when I need to be.
- At the Gates of the City: The snow fell gently over the gravestones, piling thick and dense on tall crosses, rectangular stones, low Gothic iron fences. Anjali sat on one of the thicker stones, a heavy coat wrapped around her sturdy frame, her long hair loose and covered in snow. She could no longer read the inscriptions, not with the snow and the nighttime darkness. But she knew them by heart.
- Under the Skin (essay): I sent
out an e-mail to several old and current lovers. I realize that this is
not the approach that most people would have taken, and I hesitated
briefly before sending the letter out, wondering, perhaps, if I were
presuming too much on lingering affection and friendship. But in the end,
I sent the letter, full of impertinent questions.
2003
- A Gentle Man: Suneel wakes up hours
before his family. This is normal, although today is not normal, today is
a special day. Most days he makes tea, reads the paper,
eats some toast without butter before going to work at his store.
Sushila, his wife, never wakes until after nine. She likes to stay up
late, talking on the phone with her friends. When the children were
younger, he was the one who woke them, who ironed their Catholic school
uniforms and put out milk and cereal. But now the children are able to
wake themselves, and only Riddhi, his youngest, still sleeps at home. It
is Riddhi's birthday today...
2002
- How It Started: When a hot new
dyke moves to Berkeley, you've only got a tiny window of time in which to
make your move. If you don't move quick, she'll be snapped up by someone
else, and you'll be left alone in your bed -- wet fingers for company,
waxing the saddle and wishing for love...
- The Poet and the Mathematician (a fable):
In a far away land under the coconut palms, there was a quiet little
house by the sea. It had old boards that creaked when the wind whistled
through them. It had small rooms that filled with sunshine on sunny days
and moonlight on cloudless nights. Sometimes the roof leaked a little
rain. And it had a young poet...
2001
- Wild Roses: It started with a
phone call. Sarah had been expecting the call, but it was still a shock.
She had learned over the last few years, as friends succumbed to old age,
and to one or another disease, that there were limits to how well you
could prepare for death. It was usually cancer, of one type or another.
Cancer had gotten Daniel, too. It was hard when it was someone you'd
loved...
2000
- Silence and the Word (part essay,
part story): This is a true story. In the dark, there's a woman in bed.
Her lover's hand is between her thighs, and he is rubbing what he thinks
is her clit, but in fact he's almost an inch off, and she doesn't know
what to do. She wants to tell him, somehow, but it's not an easy thing to
communicate...
- Would You Live For Me?: ...a
mythical creature of varied powers and weaknesses. Peasant wisdom claims
that garlic worn at the wrists and neck and wreathed around doors and
window frames will ward off the monster, and that the touch of a cross or
Christian holy water will burn the undead skin, as acid would burn a
human...
- And Baby Makes Four: Her back
was sore, despite the pillows the guys had tenderly tucked around her when
they settled her in the back of the car. Her back was sore and her head
felt like it was stuffed with cotton; the baby was kicking and the last
thing she wanted to hear right now was what she was pretty sure she was
hearing from the front seat...
2008
THE CDS
A signed, limited edition run.
- Morningsong -- me reading mostly stories
- Esthely Blue -- me reading mostly poems
Thanks for reading my stories -- I hope you enjoyed them!
