Reading

I’m flanked by them in most pictures. Perched atop a yellow parking curb in swimsuits and sneakers, we squint and smile for the camera, a mix of frizzy curls and stray hairs haloing our faces. It’s Memorial Day weekend 1986, and we’re minutes away from learning that Hands Across America will not solve the problem of hunger. But in this shot, we’re full of hope and sisterly adventure, and my diaper, bulging beneath my swimsuit, is, well, full.

In a photo from the previous year, the three of us pose in leotards, showing off our splits atop a gymnastics mat that’s covering shag carpet. Only Sienna, the middle sister, is a gymnast, but I’ll give it a try soon, and promptly quit. She can keep the hand chalk and stubborn wedgies. But I know exactly why I’m smiling in this picture. I can feel it blooming now in my chest, at forty-two: Safe. Complete. We’re all doing the same thing together.

Don’t judge my book by its cover.
For the cover art of my debut novel, I envisioned a mysterious, foggy background with two shadowy figures grasping for each other but remaining barely out of reach. Instead, the publisher insisted on a pink background with an illustration of a baby giraffe next to a Ferris wheel.

Don’t judge my book by its publisher.
Romances ’R’ Us exclusively publishes contemporary romance, but my debut novel is hardly a romance. It’s an important work of literary fiction that just happens to feature a female protagonist, a meet-cute, an enemies-to-lovers storyline, a grumpy/sunshine couple, forced-proximity tropes, and a happily-ever-after ending.

Ascend steep cliffs to discover Ethiopia’s ancient churches carved into rock, still serving as places of worship today

- by Aeon Video

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In this noisy world, being highly sensitive is a challenge. But learn to manage overwhelm and you can reap the upsides too

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Marginalia is far from inessential. It would be a shame if it died off in the digital age

- by Richard Fisher

Read on Psyche