Spring 2015 Orlando Prize Deadline, Days Away
The Orlando Prize & The Los Angeles Review: A Publishing Platform for Courageous Women Do you have an interesting and unpublished piece of poetry, short fiction, flash fiction, or creative nonfiction? or postmark your submission with cover sheet by Saturday, January 31st Poetry (36 lines) Flash Fiction (500 words) Short Fiction & Creative Nonfiction (1500 words) Read the full interviews and bios of our Spring 2015 Orlando...
Leaving Time by Jodi Picoult
#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER Throughout her blockbuster career, Jodi Picoult has seamlessly blended nuanced characters, riveting plots, and rich prose, brilliantly creating stories that “not only provoke the mind but touch the flawed souls in all of us” (The Boston Globe). Now, in her highly anticipated new novel, she has delivered her most affecting work yet—a book unlike anything she’s written before. For more than a decade, Jenna...
2015 Retreat Program Sampler
2015 Retreat & Waves Discussion Series: Writing Against the Current Following is a sample of the 2015 Retreat Program, still a work in progress. In abundance but unlisted are the echoing canyons, laughter, inspiration, and galaxies of fearless words and stories. The application deadline is January 15, so apply today! Learn more about AROHO Retreats here. Our intention is to make room for women’s creative, unguarded...
Be an AROHO Booth Host at AWP
Do you want to get to know other AROHO women and introduce new women to the possibility and opportunity of AROHO? Support AROHO staff by joining our effort to welcome, get to know, and spread the word to new faces at the AWP Bookfair! Volunteer hosts are welcome to bring their own books to sell/sign during their shifts and may sign up for as many time slots as they like. (One hour slots are scheduled between 9 and 5 on Thursday,...
“Of Possible War,” by Caitlin Scarano
When I wake up and come in to make coffee, my dead brother sits at the kitchen table. He doesn’t look much different than he looked before, except his skin seems a bit thinner. As the florescent light buzzes on, I think I can see the whole blue-green cartography of his circulatory system. He is naked. I’m cold. You must be, I reply, making a point not to look at his genitalia piled there between his legs on our mother’s nice mahogany...

