Robert James Russell

I’m honored to have a micro-prose watercolor called “Blue Heron” in the new issue of Atlas and Alice. 

A big thanks to Ben Woodward for taking this piece.

Here’s a quick screenshot—check out the full watercolor at A+A, as well as on my Art page.

I was delighted to be asked to contribute a graphic image to be paired with Christine Quattro’s gorgeous nonfiction piece “Gated Communities” at Synaesthesia Magazine.

Here’s the cropped image (titled “1995”) with story/author info:

Here’s the full, original image:

Check out the essay here.

I’m thrilled that my CNF piece “Anthropocene Moves”—about life and loss and bringing extinct animals back from the dead—is in the new issue of decomP Magazine: 

Almost no sound came out when he opened his small mouth. We touched his head, we told him we loved him. He died a week later while we were back at school navigating doomed relationships, grueling class schedules. But we never told him he wasn’t a mistake, and we regret that, still. He lay there, tucked behind us, quietly, feebly, nearing his end. All we could do was give our warmth. All we could do was be warm.

The piece features incredible illustrations by John Vestevich (see a sample below!). Plus, there’s audio of me reading the piece at the top of the story page, in case you care to hear this Midwest boy prattle on about thylacines and giant turtles and more. Eep!

I’m really so humbled—decomP has been a white whale journal of mine for some time. Thanks, Jason, for giving this piece a home. 

I’m beyond honored that my poem “True Indigo”—about jean jackets and grief and reconnoitering the memories of those we lose—is up at Cotton Xenomorph:

But I didn’t realize putting these things together
created this new thing.
And I’m thinking about it right now
because I have sharp elbows, see?
And my favorite denim jacket has a hole
where elbow and denim meet,
where pink skin now shows through

A monstrous thanks to Hannah and Chloe and Teo for publishing this piece and for all that they do—Cotton Xenomorph has launched into the lit scene like a meteor and is promoting and doing such important work. Do check them out. 

 

I’m thrilled to have a triptych of three graphic nonfiction pieces called “Weird West”—about camels, Poker Alice, and Brushy Bill Roberts!—up at Hobart today.

A big thanks to Aaron Burch for indulging my fascination with the Old West.

A few snippets (find the full pieces here):

I was overjoyed to be asked to participate in Little Fiction‘s annual contributor top ten list post. The idea for me was to write about the things that brought me great reflection and inspiration in 2017, so I wrote about thylacines and train robbers and great bristlecone pines and fancy pigeons and (obviously) denim and much more. Here’s a taste:

Check it out, and check out all of the lists (they really are, all, fantastic).

A double-dose of cool: On the heels of my nomination yesterday for my fiction piece “Holograms,” today my creative nonfiction/memoir piece “Corpus”—about violins and what I want to do with my body when I die—was nominated for a Pushcart Prize by Split Lip Magazine!

You can read “Corpus” here. I’m grateful to Kaitlyn Andrews-Rice and Ray Shea for accepting the piece and being awesome in general, and again, what a cohort of talented writers to be a part of. Swoon. 🙏😍

I’m honored and thrilled that Little Fiction has nominated my story “Holograms” for a Pushcart Prize!

The story, about a young woman trying to find her place in the world while working a crummy summer job at the Michigan International Speedway in the early 1990s, can be read online here.

Really grateful to Troy and Beth at Little Fiction for their great care in accepting and editing the piece, and for including me in such a wonderfully talented cohort of nominees.

I’m overjoyed that my story “Holograms”—about guns and summer jobs and the Michigan International Speedway—has been published by Little Fiction, which you can read online: 

“Anyway,” Zach said. He popped open the gun’s cylinder, rolled it along his palm back-forth. “I took this class and we talked about the holographic principle of the universe.” He waited, looked at Caroline. “You know what that is?”

Caroline shook her head no.

“Well, basically, it’s this idea that none of this”—he waved the gun ahead of him, parted the grass—“is real. It’s all a hologram.”

“That’s stupid,” Kelly said.

“What’s a hologram?” Caroline asked. She scrunched her face. “Like, I know what a hologram is. But…?”

“The whole universe. None of this is real.” Zach carefully popped out a single round from the cylinder and studied its brassy glare. “You, me, this grass. Nothing.”

Little Fiction is a tremendous publication, and they’ve been a white whale of mine for years. I am so grateful that this piece was picked up, and for Troy and Beth’s excellent editorial guidance. Delighted, delighted!

Split Lip Magazine has been a white whale publication of mine for a long while, and I am deliriously overjoyed that my creative nonfiction piece “Corpus”—about my proximity to a Stradivarius violin and accepting that we can’t control what will become of us—is in the September issue, which you can read online:

I want that to be played on a hot summer’s night in some backyard. Maybe there’s a charcoal grill blazing, an unused children’s playset overgrown with grasses, blown seeds stuck clumped in the wooden seams like white fur, children playing and swimming with bright orange foam noodles in a blue above-ground pool. I want to be played in that backyard, a soundtrack for the suburban crepuscular, a nocturne relishing the length of days.

A huge thanks to Kaitlyn Andrews-Rice and Ray Shea at SLM for publishing it and being wonderful to work with. I also participated in their Now Playing column, where I talk about what I’ve been listening to lately. You can read that here.