Categories
interviews

Author Q&A with Marlene Olin


Marlene Olin: Creative Expression As A Lifelong Practice

Nov. 12, 2025

A smiling woman with gray hair, wearing a black puffer jacket, stands outdoors in front of a porch with wooden flooring and greenery in the background.

Marlene Olin was born in Brooklyn, raised in Miami, and educated at the University of Michigan.  Her short stories and essays have been published in journals such as The Massachusetts Review, Catapult, PANK, and World Literature Today. Her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Best of The Net, Best Small Fictions, and for inclusion in Best American Short Stories. Her flash essay, “The Percolator,” appears in our autumn issue.

Tell us about yourself.

I’m seventy-two years old and have been part of a writing group here in Miami for the last twenty years. I’ve always loved to write but being part of a group has disciplined me to write regularly. 

What unique or surprising detail can you tell us about the origin, revision process,  and/or final version of your piece appearing in this issue? 

The line often blurs between my fiction and nonfiction. “The Percolator” is broadly based on the life experiences of me and my friends. When I really want to spill my feelings, I dive into fiction. In fiction, you can hide everything.

What did you learn (about yourself or craft or life in general) through writing and revising it?

I try to set aside time to write every day. The next day, before I write anything new, I go back and revise what I wrote the day before. It’s a life lesson, I suppose. To review your behavior, critique it, analyze room for improvement.  

What do you hope readers take from the piece?

I am trying to write more pieces that deal with getting old. Literary journals are youth-oriented. I feel it’s important to share my voice, my experiences.

What fuels your desire to write (or engage in other creative outlets)?

I’ve long been a collector of handmade objects, crafts. I appreciate the time and effort put into one-of-a-kind things. I have a Haitian voodoo flag hanging on one wall, a painting of a Catholic saint hanging an another. I’m an admirer of the creative process. 

What has drawn you to writing creative nonfiction and/or what other genres do you write? 

I have two novels, several children’s books, and multiple collections of my short stories incubating inside my computer. I’m very good at producing literature but very bad at seeing it published. 

What have been the biggest influences in your writing? 

I constantly read. Books of fiction and nonfiction are always piled on my nightstand. 

I also have subscriptions to The New Yorker and The New York Times. Since I’m housebound a lot, these subscriptions expand my world. 

How do you make expression a part of your daily life or how do you find a balance between your writing and other responsibilities?

Finding time to write has been a challenge lately. But writing is very therapeutic. My stories get 100% of my attention. All of my problems fly out the window. Poof. Gone. 

What do you think when you hear, “the good life?”

I think a good life happens when you meet life’s challenges with dignity and grace. 



Thank you, Marlene, for trusting us with your poigniant and heartfelt essay and for spending extra time on this Q&A. We appreciate you being a part of our growing literary community and wish you the best with writing and all life’s endeavors!

An illustration of a honey bee in orange and yellow watercolor style on a black circular background.
Categories
micro monday poetry

wedged together we are flying by Reva Elise Johnson

wedged together we are flying | Reva Elise Johnson

There was someone on a plane when men
voted to let women vote. The spinning top
wants to twirl and fall, to lay its body down.
The spinning top is a tailbone
stuck upright, wrapped in broad swaths
of gluteus, squashed into the middle seat
of an airplane row that my favorite 9-year-old
would say smells exactly like a freezer full
of farts. We are wedged together; we are
flying. There was someone on a plane
when the divorce decree was stamped
and sealed. A muffled roaring, just a
white noise that swaddles me. The angles
of my joints are locking into place but
the neatest little protractors will measure
oscillation when I begin again to swing
through space. We are wedged together;
we are flying. There was someone on a plane
when the doctor pulled the twins
into this world. A metal seat frame shapes
my skeleton while the window shows me
glowing lights of unknown cities that perhaps
will be my home someday. We are wedged
together; we are flying. There was someone
on a plane when I realized I cannot reach
the beginning anymore, can no longer touch
my first impression, so wildly different
from how I see you now.



Artistic watercolor illustration of a bee on a black circular background.
About the Author:

Reva Elise Johnson lives in northwestern Indiana, where the edges of Chicago meet the steel mills, Lake Michigan, and the Indiana Dunes. She is a writer and an engineer, exploring the interfaces between humans, nature, and technology through both her poetry and her research on prosthetics and assistive technology. Reva’s work integrates storytelling with engineering, appearing in publications ranging from Frontiers in Neuroscience to Moss Puppy Magazine. She teaches at Valparaiso University and serves as editor for the Assistive Technology journal.

Categories
interviews

Author Q&A with Rodrigo Toscano

Q&A with Poet Rodrigo Toscano

November 5, 2025

A man wearing glasses and a denim jacket poses in front of a colorful nature-themed artwork.

Rodrigo Toscano is the author of twelve books of poetry. His latest books are The Cut Point (Counterpath, 2023), The Charm & The Dread (Fence, 2022). Forthcoming is WHITMAN. CANNONBALL. PUEBLA (Omnidawn, 2025), a National Poetry Series finalist. His other books include, In Range, Explosion Rocks Springfield, Deck of Deeds, Collapsible Poetics Theater, To Leveling Swerve, Platform, Partisans, and The Disparities. His poetry has appeared in over 20 anthologies, including, Best American Poetry (2023, 2004), and Best American Experimental Poetry (BAX) His Collapsible Poetics Theater was a National Poetry Series selection. Toscano lives in New Orleans. 

Our autumn issue features two sonnets by RT. “Routines” and “Novella 14” which are part of a new collection of 100 sonnets that deal with the epic tension between conceptions of Cosmos and Mundus.

Tell us about yourself.

I was born in a place and time not of my choosing; I am living under historical conditions in flux; I shall die in an era before another era. 

What unique or surprising detail can you tell us about the origin, revision process, and/or final version of the poems appearing in this issue?

All my sonnets – hundreds of them, are made up of 10 syllables lines (or units). No exceptions. No cheating on line breaks, like just hitting the return key. Meaning units are integral to each other. The flow flows from a constructivist impulse. 


What did you learn (about yourself or craft or life in general) through writing and revising it?

Proportion, extension of proportion, violation of proportion, return to proportion. 

What do you hope readers take from the piece?

A piece of their life, like a 1’000th puzzle piece—into to place. 

What fuels your desire to write (or engage in other creative outlets)?

A desire to enjoin in the playfulness of the earth’s productive and destructive power. 


What has drawn you to writing poetry and/or what other genres do you write?

I like doing dialogues with other poets. Written volleys back and forth until we reach a limit.

What have been the biggest influences in your writing?

Marxist Dialectical thinking and expression. 

How do you make expression a part of your daily life or how do you find a balance between your writing and other responsibilities?

I engage in continuous theft, ganking from one for the other. 

What do you think of when you hear, “the good life?”

Eudemonia. “Human flourishing”. Living a life that is deeply fulfilling, and true to your highest potential.

Illustration of a honeybee on a black circular background, showcasing a watercolor design.


Thank you, RT, for your continued support of our growing literary community, and for spending extra time with us on this Q&A. We’re grateful for you and hope to read more of the sonnets in “Stumbles and Surges” soon. Cheers!

Categories
interviews

Author Q&A with Simon Ashton

Author Q&A with Simon Ashton

October 30, 2025

A man wearing glasses and a maroon hat with the text 'all fours group chat' smiles at the camera, sitting in a brightly lit room.

Simon Ashton is a former teacher and emerging writer, who was born in Scotland, grew up in England and has lived in various spots around the world from Turkey to Taiwan. Currently stuck in South Carolina, Simon is married with somewhere between 2 – 4 kids, and the best dog in the world. His brilliant short fiction story, Layover, is available in Issue #21.

Tell us about yourself?

I’m originally from Scotland but now live in the States with my wife, and Banksy, the World’s Best Dog. My two daughters and two step-daughters are scattered around the country.

Growing up our house was filled with books – every genre from German poetry to airport thrillers – but pride of place was reserved for my grandfather, who wrote a number of Hardy Boys-style books back in the 50s. I thought that was incredible, that an author could be somebody you knew, and I told everybody I was also going to be a writer when I grew up. Aged eleven I won my school’s story competition (the prize was a dictionary which, I was delighted to discover, contained all the naughty words), and then basically stopped for several decades because the stories I wrote were not as affecting as those I was reading. I only started writing again a couple of years ago once I gave up drinking and needed to find another, less self-destructive passtime. 

What unique or surprising detail can you tell us about the origin, revision process, and/or final version of your piece appearing in this issue?

When I lived in Taiwan two of my housemates were from Dunedin, New Zealand, which was how I learned they have a statue of Robert Burns in the centre of the town. There’s something so beautiful about that to me – these Scots sailed to the literal opposite side of the world and erected a statue of a poet. That he is facing a pub with his back to a church seemed too perfect.

What do you hope readers take from the piece?

The world can seem tremendously scary, particularly at this moment in history, but slowing down to carve out a little quiet for yourself is not only possible but essential. And, while I’m not a spiritual person I do believe, if we let it, life sometimes connects us with the right person at the right moment.

What fuels your desire to write (or engage in other creative outlets)?

The feeling of satisfaction which comes from creating something from nothing. 

I got very into cooking Indian food as there were no decent restaurants within an hour’s drive of where I live and, bizarre as it may sound, that helped me reframe how I looked at writing. I might never be a Madhur Jaffrey or Priya Krishna, but I can still whip up something I like and have a lot of fun doing so.

What have been the biggest influences in your writing?

I’m usually drawn to smaller stories, the ordinary dramas of life you find from writers like Maggie O’Farrell and Meg Wolitzer.  Roddy Doyle is a particular inspiration for the way his characters joke in even the bleakest circumstances. Humour is as natural a part of being human as sadness, but too often people think po-faced literary seriousness is more truthful. I disagree.

How do you make expression a part of your daily life or how do you find a balance between your writing and other responsibilities?

If anything, writing has helped provide more balance. I’ve worked from home for about twenty years and it’s very easy to blur that line between work and personal life. I’ve always been a night owl. I like to spend the evening with my wife and then, once she goes to bed, begin writing. The peace and quiet darkness brings is when I feel the least self-conscious and can allow my mind to wander more freely.

What do you think of when you hear, “the good life?”

One of the worst/best things about getting older is realising how many trite cliches hold true. I’ve floated in the warmth of the South China Sea, walked a frozen lake in Wisconsin, and had a thousand more wonderful experiences I never would have dreamed, but the good life is getting to share those joyful times with people you love.

Illustration of a honeybee on a black circular background, showcasing a watercolor design.


Thank you, Simon, for being a part of our growing literary community and for spending extra time with us on this Q&A. We wish you the best with writing and all life’s endeavors!

Categories
micro fiction micro monday short fiction

Return by Adesiyan Oluwapelumi

Return | Adesiyan Oluwapelumi

You arrive in the heart of the city, teeming with lorries and trucks transporting a supply of farm produce stocked in large sacks in transit to warehouses in the metropolis, the city welcoming you with the same hands you abandoned; hands pushing carts bearing purchases of market women from Sango Ojunrin market, where your mother used to sell tubers of yam, haggling with buyers who would slap prices to a ridiculous height; hands wiping beads of perspiration in the scorching sun on Oke Aare’s Hill, where your father had leaped to his death. He was a poor man with expensive dreams. But you swore yourself to the gods of The Western people to bring prosperity to your lineage. Had you known the outside world grew thorns along with its roses? 

At Mokola axis, notorious for its persistent traffic gridlock, you board a yellow-rust Danfo bus overload with passengers. The stench of cigarette from the conductor fills your nose who calls you Alakowe and charges you an exorbitant fee. 

In transit, you reflect on the city and observe how nothing has changed. The roads still sunken with potholes; its kerbs sullied with refuse and sewage; plied by motorcycles and rickety Micra motors, infamous as the instruments of kidnapping ritualists. You remember your friend, Tade, who had board a Micra in the night two years ago at Iwo road highway and how he was found three days later on Ojude Ade street, skull split and limbs dismembered. 

From the radio inside the bus, King Sunny Ade’s Mo Ti Mo plays in retrospect. The song ends and a newscaster comes on air to read the headlines. Crisis as fuel prices hike higher. Your sighs punctuate the air alongside other passengers’.

The bus passes across the State’s Library where you had often come to bask in the world of Mbari, Transition and Black Orpheus. You return to days shelved with memories when you consumed Okigbo’s epics and Soyinka’s elegies. In the storeys of this building, you had written the first drafts for the sample works in your MFA application. 

The bus continues towards Jericho road where you hear a muezzin’s call to prayer from a mosque nearby. Allahu Akbar, you mimic him as you had often done when you were younger. You did not understand the words but that didn’t matter. God hears his creations in all the dialects of their yearning. You remember weeks of the storms on the ship sailing the Caribbean Sea where God was a thin thread you hanged on for dear life. 

You raise your eyes pregnant with tears and tales towards the city’s sky, a country of egrets flying in the air polluted with greenhouse gases from oil factories. At a T-junction in Akinyele, you alight from the bus handing the conductor your fare. He tells you there’s no change. You know it is a lie. But in the end, you forgo it.

Your mother, with hands that you have once abandoned, runs to meet you.

A watercolor illustration of a bee on a black circular background.
About the Author:
A young person wearing a black turtleneck stands against a backdrop of leaves, looking contemplative.

ADESIYAN OLUWAPELUMI, TPC XI, is a medical student, poet, essayist & Poetry Editor of Fiery Scribe Review from Nigeria. He & his works are featured in The Republic, Electric Literature, Only Poems, 20.35 Africa, Isele Magazine, Poetry Sango-Ota, A Long House, Brittle Paper, Fantasy Magazine, Poet Lore, Tab Journal, Poetry Wales & elsewhere.


Categories
announcements

Introducing Issue #21 ~ Autumn 2025

Discover TGLR’s Autumn 2025 Literary Gems

October 17, 2025

A vibrant sunset over a lake, with silhouettes of trees in the foreground. The sky features shades of orange and yellow, reflecting on the water's surface. The text 'thegoodlifereview' is prominently displayed along the left side, along with the issue number and date at the bottom.



Dear Lit Mag Enthusiasts and Sweater Weather Lovers,

Welcome to fall and the latest edition of TGLR. Yes, friends, today is the day… The big reveal of Issue #21!! It’s always a delight to introduce the authors and artists we meet through the publication process, but it’s especially wonderful when people are as kind as this bunch. We’re honored to promote them and this bountiful collection of amazing work! 

We’re excited to feature two poems by Rodrigo Toscano plus more sweet, sweet lines by Rayni K. Wekluk, Matthew James Babcock, Bob King, Elizabeth Anguamea, and Caroline Sutphin. And that would certainly be more than enough, however, we are beyond thrilled to offer, for the very first time, spoken word! These brave souls were willing to jump into the bounce house with us for this fun new endeavor: Eve Addams, Dufflyn Lammers, and Esman Rodas Calderon.

A huge thank you to Bianca Swift who agreed to be our guest editor for this segment!

In flash creative nonfiction, we have two essays by Camila Cal Mello, the doctor says i must milk her body and my mother says she wants to go out tonight and a third, The Percolatorby Marlene Olin. For longer essays, we have Rearview Mirror by Brad Snyder and Swan Song by Sarah Safsten.

And because it is getting harder and harder to turn excellent work away, we could not resist accepting the six fiction pieces that are included in the virtual pages of this issue – flash by Charlie Rogers and Sarah Schiff, and short fiction by Simon Ashton, Ben Seabolt, David Hutto, and Mikaela Conley. All are worth taking time time to read and enjoy!

Of course, the issue would not be complete without a full complement of artwork. We’re pleased to showcase “Early Rising” by Amuri Morris on the cover and pieces by J.C. Henderson, Crystal Angeles, Fabio Sassi, and Harry Bauld accompanying the writing in the issue. More about each artist and their work is available on the Issue 21 Art page. 

With that, we are delighted to release Issue #21 ~ Autumn 2025 into the wild!  

As always, thank you for visiting, reading, supporting independent journals, and believing in the arts!

Cheers to Leaf Peeping and Stormy Mornings,
~Shyla, Tacheny, and The Good Life Review Team

Issue #21 Editorial Team: M.A. Boswell, Ashley Espinoza, Tacheny Perry, Tana Buoy, Patrick O’Dell, Carina Faz, Amy Crawford, Annie Barker, Debra Rose Brillati, Erin Challenor, Cid Galicia, Terry Belew, Michelle Pierce Battle, Cat Dixon, Stepha Vesper, and Shyla Shehan

Issue #21 Readers: Jamie Wendt, Toni Allen, Zach Vesper, Jill Veltkamp, Julie Johanning, Brittany Turek, Miranda Jansen, Madeline Torbenson, Mitra Vajjala, Julia Sample, Ashley DeVrieze, and Christine Nessler

A watercolor illustration of a bee in shades of yellow and orange on a dark background.
Categories
micro monday poetry

The cure to all the maladies that ail us by Jonathan Greenhause

The cure to all the maladies that ail us | Jonathan Greenhause

won’t be scooped from a ballot box, nor delivered on the wings
of a dodo. You may ask yourself
why seek what’s extinct? Why brush your filling-packed teeth
with Sriracha, then wonder why your gums
are a 5-alarm fire? Your skin’s a jellyfish armored
with translucence, the paleontology
of a fragile skeleton divined underneath. Your stapled stomach
aches for wide open spaces, but your hunger’s a mouse
embraced by the wrong side of a metal clasp,
your busted front door
draped by a For Sale sign & a rusted chain. Apache helicopters
lay waste to your neighbors hastily relabeled as terrorists,
a miracle of precise projectiles
erasing their presence. You’re aiming to recover secrets
scribbled upon mildewed index cards
in a desk drawer gifted to The Salvation Army;
but right now, thousands of miles away, someone sets it ablaze.


Artistic watercolor illustration of a bee on a black circular background.
About the Author:
A smiling man with short dark hair and a light beard stands outdoors against a blurred natural background, showcasing a clear blue sky.

Jonathan Greenhause’s poetry collection, Cupping Our Palms (Meadowlark Press, 2022), won the 2022 Birdy Poetry Prize, and he was the winner of the 2025 Goldsmith Poetry Festival Competition and the 2024 Teignmouth Poetry Festival Open Competition. His poems have recently appeared or are forthcoming in Gigantic Sequins, Qu, Salamander, Slippery Elm, and subTerrain.

Categories
micro monday micro nonfiction

Golden Hour in the District of Columbia by Noah Lane Browne 

Golden Hour in the District of Columbia | Noah Lane Browne 

It is late afternoon in late summer, the golden hour as everyone here calls it, as horizontal sunlight turns white marble monuments of war and history into shades of amber, softening Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian lines with warm hues, mellowing the capital’s imperial tone, when because the air is less suffocating at least for now and because you are feeling stronger at least for now, you unwrap your headscarf and pull on your wig, adjusting its fit in the mirror, and we walk to the beer garden and sit at a wooden picnic table under a white umbrella that says Weihenstephaner and I order a pilsner and you order a Coke, no ice, because you don’t understand why Americans are obsessed with ice given that the Coke is always plenty cold already and when I’m halfway through my beer I use the restroom and when I come back you nod towards a young man a few picnic tables over (young man being my words not yours and maybe a bit condescending or something my grandmother would say, what I really mean is just some guy) who had strutted over to you while I was peeing and flirted with you and tried to pick you up (there I go again, strutted being my word not yours and which implies an arrogance or douchiness that may not be fair, what I really mean is that he just walked over to you) and with dark brown eyes wide and playful you whisper He didn’t even notice I am bald! and you are grinning and actually now I am too because your illness has vanished from the world and its strutting young men and everything feels normal again, at least for a golden hour.

An artistic illustration of a bee in shades of amber and gold against a black background.
About the Author:
Black and white portrait of a man with short hair, wearing a black shirt, looking directly at the camera with a serious expression.


Noah Lane Browne writes about family, memory, and survival.  His work appears in Unbroken, Disco Kitchen, Chicago Story Press, Voices, and Qu. He lives in Washington DC with his badass wife and intemperate cat.

Accompanying photo by Simon Fitall

Categories
announcements

2026 Best of the Net Nominations

Nominees for Best of the Net 2026 Revealed

September 25, 2025

Logo for 'Best of the Net' featuring elegant typography in black with a circular gold design.

Hello friends. Fall has arrived here in Omaha and the cooler weather means it’s nom-nom-nomination season again. Today, we’re thrilled to kick off this gourmet meal with a healthy dish of Best of the Net Noms!

For those who don’t know, Best of the Net is an annual contest operated by Sundress Publications that is designed to elevate and celebrate a growing collection of writers and publishers who are opening the door to transformation through writing and art online. More about the contest can be found here.

This year we are pleased to nominate two creative nonfiction essays, two fiction stories, six poems, and three pieces of art published between July 1, 2024 and June 30, 2025.

We’re grateful to all of our contributors and want to wish a hearty congratulations to these fine writers and artists for being the best of our best.

Good luck snagging that prize!

Cheers,
Shyla, Tacheny, & The Good Life Review Team

Circular logo featuring an orange watercolor bee with text reading '* BEST * of the NET' against a black background.
Categories
micro monday poetry

The Weight of His Chair by Sam Aureli

The Weight of His Chair  |  Sam Aureli

The Weight of His Chair
I sit in his chair—
leather cracked, spine-sprung,
still warm with memory.
It tilts, slightly off-balance,
as if even now unsure
how to hold me.

Around me, the room spills over—
sermons stacked in leaning towers,
paperclips rusting in jam jars,
receipts from decades ago
filed by no logic I can decipher.

Drawers bristle with broken pens,
old prescriptions, notes to himself
written in a hand growing looser,
like thoughts slipping their leash.

He always seemed so certain—
a man of answers,
of polished shoes and pointed truths.
But here, the clutter speaks louder:
the chaos he never let show,
the secrets he buried
under layers of order.

I sift through it all—
not to bring him back,
but to see if there was ever
anything softer
beneath the storm.

But nothing holds.
His gospel dissolves into post-it notes
faded to blank.

Still, I stay seated,
letting the silence fill in
what he never said.
The chair groans beneath me—
not in protest,
but in memory.


Artistic watercolor illustration of a bee on a black circular background.
About the Author:
A close-up portrait of a man with a beard and short dark hair, looking directly at the camera against a dark background.

Sam Aureli, originally from Italy and now based in Boston, is a design and construction professional working in real estate development. When he’s not immersed in concrete and steel, he writes poetry rooted in the elemental textures of the world. He came to poetry later in life as a refuge from the noise, a way to pause and listen more closely to what the world quietly offers. His poems have appeared, or are forthcoming, in The Atlanta Review, Sontag Mag, Humana Obscura, Prosetrics The Magazine, Stanchion Magazine, Crow & Cross Keys, among other literary journals.