Who keeps us safe all those nights? We do, by the stories we tell and the stories we cut apart, with chainsaws and with hearts.

Nabugodi resists both melodrama and academic neutrality. Her approach is closer to a physics of feeling

Alexander reminds us that the human experience is bound to a rich history, and not just a matter of individual experience.

[World Poetry Books; 2025] Tr. from the German by Ann Cotten and Anna-Isabela Dinwoodie On the nine-hour train ride back to Berlin from Vienna, a young man takes the seat next to me. He asks whether I think it’s safe to leave a suitcase back by the train’s entrance, out of sight from our seats. […]

Nabugodi resists both melodrama and academic neutrality. Her approach is closer to a physics of feeling

Alexander reminds us that the human experience is bound to a rich history, and not just a matter of individual experience.

[World Poetry Books; 2025] Tr. from the German by Ann Cotten and Anna-Isabela Dinwoodie On the nine-hour train ride back to Berlin from Vienna, a young man takes the seat next to me. He asks whether I think it’s safe to leave a suitcase back by the train’s entrance, out of sight from our seats. […]

… Of all art forms, clothing is particularly close to the self.

What does it mean to have a fake novel? What does it mean to have a novel that’s thinking, aware of itself as a novel, and thinking about

While facing a totally unknown new phase of my life, I had a feeling that I should push making music. I didn’t know what would happen and I didn’t have many songs written, but I wanted to try. 

In painted portraits you can see the hand of the painter, the gestures, the point of view. All portraits are in a way self-portraits too. I wanted that to happen with this book as well.

I wanted to focus on language alone and its sheer force, uncontained by formal, philosophical, and empirical systems and thought.

Who keeps us safe all those nights? We do, by the stories we tell and the stories we cut apart, with chainsaws and with hearts.

In both memoirs, evidence serves less to solve a crime than to reconstruct a self—both the dead family member and the writer grappling with their loss.

For a while . . . I thought that no one should write about eating disorders at all because there was no way to do so without somehow glamorizing them.

It would be tempting, if you were a theoretical physicist working on the first atomic bomb, to imagine yourself as a demiurge. To frame the process as spiritual longing for God’s wrath . . .

The following playlist is humbly submitted for your listening pleasure from Full Stop, your full service literary journal. In

This special issue of the FULL STOP QUARTERLY will aim to hold folklore as a prism through which to view connection, the self, and the future. . . . It will explore folklore in and as literature, as process, and as performance.

In times like ours, times of fracture, depravity and upheaval—times which are really not that different than any other time on earth, except for the speed and scale at which violence is exercised—what is the value of art?

Read the introduction to our latest issue of the Full Stop Quarterly, “Literary Dis(-)appearances in (Post)colonial Cities.”