Fiction and poetry from the Great Lakes region
Dom Fonce joined the Great Lakes Review team as a fiction editor in February 2020. He also serves as a co-editor-in-chief of Volney Road Review, founded in 2018, and you can find his work in numerous literary magazines, journals, and …
In a 2016 New York Times Book Review interview Jim Harrison responded to a question about his favorite fictional heroes and villains with, “My original favorite fictional hero was Heathcliff in Bronte’s ‘Wuthering Heights.’”[1] In Heathcliff Bronte creates one of …
This poem is part of the Great Lakes Review’s Narrative Map project. The bike wobbles as he turns his head to say hello to the girl and her dog and the handlebars swerve the way they do the first time the …
This essay is part of the Great Lakes Review’s Narrative Map project. As a lifelong resident of Marquette, Michigan, located on the south shore of Lake Superior, I consider myself fortunate. Wherever I have lived in the city, I have been …
Last night, I remembered playing pitch dark hide and seek in a muddy field, a ruined pair of Air Max 95s, and the joy of black college freshmen running fearless through the night. I am certain I will never again …
This poem is part of the Great Lakes Review’s Narrative Map project. For fourteen weeks the grasses grew so high they turned to accidental prairies. The union tossed bottles and wire hangers into the parks to stop residents from mowing down …
This essay was an honorable mention in the 2017 Narrative Map College Student Writing Contest. Kelley hoisted the door open and a ding promptly followed. We peered around the empty shop, the vacancy of other people was unimportant because we …
This essay was an honorable mention in the 2017 Narrative Map College Student Writing Contest. Setting courses for sailboats taught the boy about scars: the lake was a gouge in the earth, the sailboats left fluid white gashes in the …
This essay was an honorable mention in the 2017 Narrative Map College Student Writing Contest. The exterior looked how I felt: dirty red brick, tired neon signs, a dead tree, and a lot of ashtrays. Every time I went, the …
