The Cleaving: Vietnamese Writers in the Diaspora
The first and only book to gather the voices and perspectives of Vietnamese diasporic authors from across the globe.
Writing Feminism and Disobedience
Hoai Huong Aubert-Nguyen and Vaan Nguyen
Abbigail Nguyen Rosewood and Violet Kupersmith
Thi Bui and Thảo Nguyễn
Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai and Hoa Nguyen
A Fortune-Teller Saw My Future in My Eyebrows
As a Vietnamese immigrant, I found understanding in the horoscope readers of my family and the Asian diaspora.
TOC Community Cookbook
In the spirit of the classic community cookbooks assembled by churches, PTAs, families, and charities, the Tables of Contents Community Cookbook is a collection of personal recipes and brief reflections on food from 36 contemporary poets, essayists and fiction writers.
Had One Thing Changed
The joy of love is often coupled with the fear of loss. Here, novelist Abbigail Nguyen Rosewood recalls how anxiety before her wedding returned her to the impermanence of life, to its multiple pathways and infinite realities, as explored in her new book, The Constellations of Eve.
“She Who Has No Master(s): Would That”
This poetry-art exhibit (viewable online) is taking place at the Eccles Gallery at Salt Lake City Community College from October 8-November 6.
TBLR Vol. 4: This Peculiar Radiant Landscape: The Climate Issue
Featuring new work by Elinam Agbo, Keyan Bowes, Omar El Akkad, Chinua Ezenwa-Ohaeto, Amanda Kallis, Heidi Kaloustian, Joan Naviyuk Kane, Caroline Kim, Liu Daohang, Melissa Mogollon, Abbigail Rosewood, Francis Santana, Casey A. Williams, and Olga Zilberbourg. Photography by Nate Kauffman.
There Is Grace in Patience: On the Writing Lessons of Tarot
Abbigail Nguyen Rosewood Considers Trust, Discovery, and Dreaming While Awake
A Girl Is Grown Like a Poem Is Grown
A flash fiction piece explores the intriguing process by which a girl “becomes,” how she is simultaneously “made and unmade” by the experiences and influences which surround her.
Dead Jasmine
My mother worked to pay my nanny, who laundered, cooked, and put me to bed, but it was a male omniscience I prayed to, his masculine benediction I longed for.
I Moved to America for a Better Life. Here's Why I'm Leaving
Abbigail Nguyen Rosewood Considers Trust, Discovery, and Dreaming While Awake
Allendy Is Free
Then when the house caught on fire and going back only meant standing on a bed of ash and wet grass, we began to transform every place we lived in into our childhood home.
The City Writer Versus the Country Writer
Choosing one life means missing out on another; it is not possible to be everywhere all at once, to do everything, to be everyone.
Outside
The first time I saw them, more than a decade ago now, they were standing in a circle behind the sun’s shadow. Even from a distance, I could tell they would tower over me, their chins several inches above my head, a mathematical difference in perspective. In their fists, beer, a baseball, throw darts, something crumbling.