“Presents twenty four ways of ‘knowing’ one’s father, by accomplished, independent daughters./Melora Wolff offers an excellent view of the glamorous world of visiting fathers from the first-person, plural view of young ladies at New York City’s Brearley School.” — Kirkus Reviews

“How is it that they have caught all the drowned churches in their nets? The churches rise slowly from the sea, streaming and shining, lurching and plunging in the surf, and the bells of the churches swing, green with time.”

–c. from “Kiss”

“In late afternoon, he sat at attention in the garden of his Yalta estate, coughing blood, a wool blanket draped around his shoulders. The pistol lay across his skinny knees. He waited for stray cats to appear. A dust of fine snow fell. At dusk, doomed, emaciated cats leapt onto the wooden fence around his property, their fur matted, their ears torn.  The starving cats did not fear Chekhov in his weak and dying state. They did not know that a gun silent in the first act must be fired in the next–no, they had their nine lives to live. He watched the cats run along his fence on their scrawny feet and sniff the air for the promise of scraps. Chekhov focused his vision. He was an audience rapt to their hunger, their resilience, and their pride. Why, then, did he grow bored of them?”

–c. from “Chekhov’s Cats”

“The magazine prizes the personal voice and celebrates opinion, passion, revelation, and the occasional bad joke. This anthology, which collects some of the very best work to appear in Brick over the last twenty-two years, is an essential collection of some of the finest writers at work today.” –House of Anansi Press