Author Archives: katemccarrollmoore

A real estate listing sent in a text 29 photos, inside and out our very first house around the corner from the womb of our parents the place we began here is the odd-shaped room where our babies slept here … Continue reading →

.I love this New Yorker article.“You know when botanists bisect a tree, and can tell by the thickness of rings what the conditions were like that year? This feels like we had that year, and this is what happened.” http://bitly.ws/dS2G

When we first moved from Buffalo, we’d have Sunday dinner with my grandparents every week. My father was their only remaining child – his brother had drowned years and years before, leaving a wake of sadness to seep into everything. … Continue reading →

We parked in lot 7, as instructed lined up single file, greyhaired and masked up outside the humanities building, where no students currently sit listening to lectures about post-modern anything instead, there we were, silent captives forced to bear witness … Continue reading →

Available October 15, 2021.By KATE MCCARROLL MOORE Click to pre-order:https://cityoflightpublishing.com/product/elinormal/ While skipping lessons at the prestigious ballet academy that her mother forced her to enroll in, 11-year-old Elinor Malcolm meets Indira, a mysterious older girl who encourages her to explore … Continue reading →

he kept a little notebook in the locked glovebox of every car he owned recording each fill-up inking the mileage math   he kept filled-up ledgers preserved in his office alongside longer lists daily highs and lows recorded, compared with … Continue reading →

the way the light falls on ordinary goodness waiting to be shared

I wish I had an owl a small brown wide eyed screecher like the one who’s made a home on Margaret’s front porch this winter there he rests, nestled between paneled ceiling and bricked ledge nearly invisible, quietly still — … Continue reading →

Yesterday, while a radical mob tried to destroy democracy I baked muffins with the babies 2 granddaughters, in ruffled aprons and diapers sat at the counter in their high chairs and stirred beside me, adding sugar, oohing as the eggs … Continue reading →

Winter squall announced itself by snowplow’s amber lights, streaking slow across my bedroom wall by morning, December steeped in stillness driveway drifts rose three feet tall neighbor boys broomed backyard rink I laced up new white skates, as frosty flakes sustained … Continue reading →