By accident, you told me the sweetest thing to miss was the Mexican desert. You didn’t know the English words for the creatures surrounding the arid mountains. As your daughter, it’s instinct to believe I’m different. But neither of us is connected
Dear Readers, It hit me recently, in a buzzing swarm of thoughts, that I’m a junior. With three years under my belt, rejections a plenty, fist bumps over paper grades, and a particularly embarrassing episode when I cried under a lamplight near
Near the beginning of Gary Shteyngart’s new memoir, “Little Failure,” Gary shares an emotionally charged moment with his father. “The past is haunting us,” Shteyngart writes. “In Queens, in Manhattan, it is shadowing us, punching us in the stomach. I am small,