I’ve known what many would call evil: child abuse, a close call with a murderer. I know about other people’s dark impulses, and so I’ve been all the more terrified of my own.
My dad smells like myrrh. My younger sister Madeline and I hide beneath his robes while he shakes parishioners’ hands at the back of the church. We think we’re hidden,…
She reached out for my hand from behind the boxed area of the courtroom that separated the inmates, like her, from the lawyers like me. Me and the bailiffs and the good citizens just there on parking tickets. “Can I hold your hand?” she said.
With this much self-awareness and meditation, residents such as myself tend to forget—or, rather, concentrate on forgetting—that Encinitas is also a half-marathon’s distance from the Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, which is roughly the size of Rhode Island.
So I’m standing in front of the fridge, door open, wondering more-or-less what happened to my life, when I suddenly remember I have an eight month old baby in my…
The Rumpus Book Club chats with Manuel Gonzales about The Miniature Wife, subverting genre, building a believable fictional world, and the invention of paper towels.