A prisoner and his jailer play a game of cat-and-mouse in total darkness—but which is the hunter and which the hunted? Fiction for Halloween.
The devil is in them—and in plenty of other pies too. A poem composed for Tuesday night’s “100 Days of Protest” reading.
When you mine comedy for an elusive and dangerous truth, you take the risk of bombing. Hard. Science fiction for a Friday.
Thirty-eight years have passed since I’ve been allowed to set foot in America’s neighbor to the north. I'd love to go back again, but only with a proper invitation.
A godless atheist wonders what it would mean to live in a truly Christian nation, and proposes the modest first step that would imply.
An early incident involving Neil Gaiman illustrates the almost unconscious way a group will come together to protect an icon from his own actions.
A clatter on the rooftop may not bring glad tidings to the ones on Santa’s naughty list. This yuletide potboiler puts the sour in sugar plum candy and the bitter in hot buttered rum.
In this excerpt from my memoir, a young LDS missionary under police interrogation begins to realize just how much trouble he’s facing.
The new horror thriller offers a heady clash between opposing ideas about faith and belief. But how realistic is its depiction of LDS doctrine and culture?
This poem is not about the election, but it does accurately represent the way I feel about it.
When a documentary filmmaker finds herself propelled twenty years into the future, will she discover a world better or worse than the one she left behind?
Confronted by a party guest with an axe to grind, I must flap my gums faster than they’ve flapped in my whole flippin’ life.
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