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A Season in Silence, by Jennifer de Guzman (2/9/04)
Fiction.
When my mother tells me to do something, or not to do something, it's like I don't have any choice—what she says goes. I hate that feeling, like not being separate from my mom, like I'm an extra arm or leg that always does what she wants.
Carnival, by Jennifer de Guzman (1/19/04)
Poetry.
Your mother is the swan-bench. / We don't know who your father was.
Counterpoint, by Jennifer de Guzman (10/21/02)
Fiction.
"Hard work is the price of genius, sometimes, Amadeo," Padre Martini tells me. "It is not enough for you to make beautiful music. The music must have form."
Underground, by Jennifer de Guzman (3/26/01)
Fiction.
Fairy dust makes everything beautiful: when you're using it you look beautiful and everything looks beautiful to you.