By Jeff Munroe dfYann Martel, author of Life of Pi, was troubled about a decade ago by the admission of then Canadian Prime Minister Stephen

By Jeff Munroe “Why write a poem at a time like this?” a poet friend asks, and if you are like me, you intuitively feel

by Jeff Munroe We want a motive, because we want the senseless shooting in Las Vegas last week to make sense. We want there to

by Jeff Munroe Brian Doyle had me at The whole weasel question. (As opposed to “You had me at hello.”) I was undone by the

by Jeff Munroe I could handle the questions repeated endlessly like we were in Groundhog Day: Who are you? Where do you live now? When

by Jeff Munroe You are 14, which, depending on whom you listen to, equates to either 84 or 98 in people years. We’ve been noticing

by Jeff Munroe When I was 15, I sent Olivia Newton John a love letter. I thought of that embarrassing letter the other day when

by Jeff Munroe A few years ago, when a group of Perspectives leaders were discussing the history of the journal, someone decided the best way