Tag Archives: N. West Moss

N WEST MOSS: Murmurings

Artistic, Submissions, , , , ,

When daytime temperatures rise above freezing, it’s time to tap the maples. The sap rises, murmuring, We can begin again. That’s the promise of spring. Knowing the endlessness of loss, she asks the trees each year, But how many springs are left to me? This is how Aprils get squandered.

N. West Moss is the author of the memoir Flesh & Blood (Algonquin 2021) as well as the short story collection The Subway Stops at Bryant Park. Her middle grade novel, Birdy, is forthcoming from Little, Brown. She can be found on Twitter at @scoutandhuck and on Instagram at @NWestMoss.

N WEST MOSS: Pecking Order

Artistic, Submissions, Touching, , , , ,

Pete had a heart attack recently, and recovery is lengthy.

His hen (I’ll call her Penny) is being pecked nearly to death by the others. Since he has time, Pete stands in the coop swatting at the mean hens with the feed scoop.

Penny follows him around, borrowing Pete’s bravery.

N. West Moss is the author of the memoir, Flesh & Blood from Algonquin (2021) as well as the short story collection, The Subway Stops at Bryant Park from Leapfrog (2017). Her middle grade novel, Birdy, is forthcoming from Little, Brown.

N WEST MOSS: Blue Bottles

Artistic, Submissions, Touching, , , , , ,

At eighty-eight, my mother says, “It’s time to stop driving.” She watches the birds from her window, hasn’t stepped outside all winter, says she’s happy. Me? The sun pours through the blue bottles on my windowsill, and I feel the wind stirring through the family grave in New Orleans, preparing.

N. West Moss’s memoir, Flesh and Blood: Reflections on Infertility, Family, and Creating a Bountiful Life (published by Algonquin 2021), can be found at workman.com/products/flesh-blood/hardback. Her middle grade novel is forthcoming from Little, Brown, and Company.

N WEST MOSS: A man (not her husband)

Artistic, Submissions, Top Stories, , ,

A man (not her husband) had loved her last summer. He never said so, never kissed her, so maybe he hadn’t, but the wondering lit her up like a firefly. His absence weighed a thousand pounds and made her ears ring. Having almost certainly been loved still made her dance.

N. West Moss has had her work published in the New York Times, McSweeney’s, Salon, and elsewhere. Her short story collection, The Subway Stops at Bryant Park, was published by Leapfrog Press. Her forthcoming memoir, Flesh and Blood, is being published by Algonquin in October 2021.