Bee stings, epidurals, and incarceration
Welcome back to Memoir Monday—a weekly newsletter and quarterly reading series, brought to you by Narratively, The Rumpus, Catapult, Longreads, Granta, and Guernica. Each essay in this newsletter has been selected by the editors at the above publications as the best of the week, delivered to you all in one place. It may be the start of a new work week, but at least we have this great new writing to get us through it.
The Secret Society of Self-Stingers
by Lauren Rothman (art by plaest2k)
As I bided my time waiting for the test results, I dove into the science and history of BVT, learning that apitherapy, the use of treatments derived from bee venom and beehives to treat illnesses, is an ancient modality that has been used all over the world to manage conditions ranging from multiple sclerosis to rheumatoid arthritis.
You Are Here, You Are Not A Ghost
by Mark Doty
In the random blur of cities we require allegiances. Loyalties make a place a home, and cannot shift as swiftly as the fevered economies of real estate. That barber shop has dimensionality to me, I can see and hear still the three barbers; I can re-enter the place imaginatively, down to the metal combs gleaming in jars of blue – alcohol? It is very difficult to do that with, say, any of the seemingly endless number of Duane Reades, where fluorescent lights bathe aisles of candy and makeup, and locked plexiglass cases of condoms and products to whiten the teeth. And it is impossible to enter into a full imaginative engagement with, and thus to remember, over many years, an empty storefront. What was there before will always be more real.
The Gift of a Guilt-Free Epidural
by Maggie Tokuda-Hall
Even as I asked for it, I felt conflicted. Not whether or not I wanted it—I was sure I wanted it. But whether or not I was doing something wrong, something foolish and weak. But the pain, and worse, the fear of the pain, was enough to override these concerns. The anesthesiologist arrived within twenty minutes or so, and the delicate process of putting in the epidural started.
Following the North Star
by Shaheen Pasha
“Tariq has been arrested,” his brother said to me, before his voice choked up into sobs, all his bravado vanished. I sat down in my chair with its slightly wobbly back, and dropped the handbag I had just hung on my shoulder, ready to catch my bus home from Jersey City.
Writers’ Resources
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