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The Index of Porosity

Adam Mars-Jones

‘Is there in fact a jostling for dominance between the art forms, some barely suppressed competitiveness?’

Adam Mars-Jones on music and ceremony.

One Day It Will all Make Sense

Tabitha Lasley

‘It occurs to me then that he has not invited me for dinner, but my alter ego from the page.’

Tabitha Lasley on writing and dating.

On Writing ‘Blind Bitter Happiness’

Adam Mars-Jones

‘When I was put on Granta’s first Best of Young British Novelists list in 1983, no novel of mine had been published.’

On Judging Granta’s Best of Young British Novelists

A.L. Kennedy

A.L. Kennedy on being chosen for, and judging Granta’s Best of Young British Novelists.

Particulate Matter

Amitava Kumar

‘India, as we know it, is changing. What will it become?’

Memoir by Amitava Kumar.

On Beyoncé

Okechukwu Nzelu

‘Renaissance gives back, by reminding Black queer people what it’s like to be in our most sacred spaces.’

Okechukwu Nzelu on Beyoncé.

Many Words for Heat, Many Words for Hate

Amitava Kumar

‘In Delhi the heat is chemical, something unworldly, a dry bandage or heating pad wrapped around the body.’

Memoir by Amitava Kumar.

Ausländer

Michael Moritz

‘We were Jews and we were living in plain sight.’

Memoir by Michael Moritz.

The Schedule of Loss

Emily LaBarge

‘The Schedule of Loss is what can be heard, what can be tolerated, what can be borne by both teller and told.’

Memoir by Emily LaBarge.

The Last Place We Were Happy

TaraShea Nesbit

‘Our daughter had been born one month early, unbreathing. My husband and I drove to the last place we were happy.’

Memoir by TaraShea Nesbit.

Notes on Craft

Lee Lai

‘I’ve loved experiencing the page as a map, as something to be wandered across.’

Lee Lai on the function of page and panel in comics.

Self-Replicating Textual Worms

Lucy Mercer

‘Sometimes, it is better to not know what is behind the veil, decode the sign.’

Lucy Mercer on motherhood, emblems and obscurity.

The House on El Estero

Fernanda Melchor

‘The girl vomited with rage as Jorge recited the prayer. She struggled and squirmed, kicked and spat.’

A story by Fernanda Melchor, translated by Sophie Hughes.

O Brother

John Niven

‘Up on the light box on the wall are the scans of Gary’s brain, bone white standing out against smoked grey.’

John Niven remembers the last days of his brother, Gary.