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“A Clean, Well-Lighted Place” is a short story by Ernest Hemingway. “Hemingway,” for the purposes of this post, can also mean “Alison’s favorite writer after F. Scott Fitzgerald.” I know! I know! You’re never having me over for dinner now. We must part virtual paths here. I understand. Ta! Anyway, for those of you still reading, in [...] When I was 24, something very unusual happened. At the time, I was an editorial assistant at Random House and freshly minted graduate of Johns Hopkins’ Fiction program. My friend and I wrote a book together and we sold it. To our employer no less! And we used pen names! I had been dating Nathan [...] [Alison stands up and sheepishly walks to the front of the room. She looks out at the gathered crowd and reminds herself that this is a safe place.] “My name is Alison Presley and I hate book clubs.” … … I’ll give you a moment to recover. Go on. Take as much time as you need. I know what you’re thinking. Wait, [...] As you guys know my baby sister is getting married THIS WEEK. (Just typing that kind of makes me panic. The last time I checked she was still parading around in her dance-team uniform and sporting braces with alternating colors that demonstrated her school pride.) She actually lives in the D.C. area and she elected to have [...] Serenity, Felicity, and others I dearly love have talked up Anne of Green Gables for years. This is one of my “Slipped Through the Cracks” books, which I should have read long ago but somehow never did. And so recently when looking for a new audio book to listen to on my walk to work, [...] Due to some freak error, I gained admission to the Johns Hopkins Writing Seminars after graduating from college. There, for one blissful year of my life, I was paid to write–and nothing else. (The Writ Sems are heavily underwritten and thus free for the 12 people they accept every year. I know. I KNOW.) At the [...] ACT I SCENE I A tiny bedroom in a downtown San Francisco apartment. In the corner, a tuckered out Chihuahua sleeps, wheezing comically. A couple in their early thirties stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep. It’s almost midnight. ALISON NATHAN Lost and I have a very complicated relationship. When the show first aired, I avoided it. Thankyouverymuch, but I don’t care for sci-fi action-adventure shows. Then my sister started watching it and I would taunt her saying, “There’s something in the woods!” (I can be highly obnoxious, but she’s my baby sister so she had [...] It’s fairly safe to say that yet again I have over-committed myself and am hopelessly busy. But this weekend I came up with a plan to deal with the stress, a GENIUS PLAN, if you will, so I shall not yet require a nice padded room in some state no one can pinpoint on a [...] Sometimes Nathan and I play this game in crowded public spaces. I’ll turn to him and say, “Do you think J. K. Rowling would get spotted here?” We usually go with no. She’d be just another blonde mom-type person, lost in the crowd. Literary fame definitely comes with its pros and cons. Pro: You’d never, [...] |
 Alison Presley lives in San Francisco with her husband Nathan Bransford. She's locked in an unhealthy relationship with her work-in-progress (a novel). And so far this year she has wasted six months of her life on a college-level Statistics class and eaten more frozen pizza than she cares to admit. 
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