Issue 217 | The Sun Magazine

January 1994

Readers Write

Running Away

A niece’s realization, a mother’s uncontrollable urge, a father’s double life

By Our Readers


You see I thought love got easier over the years so it didn’t hurt so bad when it hurt, or feel so good when it felt good. I thought it smoothed out and old people hardly noticed it. I thought it curled up and died, I guess. Now I saw it rear up like a whip and lash.

Louise Erdrich

The Sun Interview

By Fire And Water

An Interview With Michael Meade

All this violence is a fire screaming for the water of human attention. I don’t think we’re going to be able to keep going unless we deal with it. To me the two big events of the last two years are the fires in L.A. and the flooding of the Mississippi River. I think they are strangely related.

By Sy Safransky
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Great Man Going

In the unfamiliar role of prey, we’ve come to recognize our own demise in the destruction of the environment. In the lifelessness we’ve projected on all other matter, we’ve come to see our own lifelessness.

By Stephen W. Hyde
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

The Talent Of The Room

Writing is something you do alone in a room. Copy that sentence and put it on your wall because there’s no way to exaggerate or overemphasize this fact.

By Michael Ventura
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

My Cockroach Diary

“Lately when I open the cupboard doors,” my wife said, “a cockroach usually falls on my head. It’s really obnoxious.” I’ve noticed it, too. Are they leaning on the doors more than they used to?

By Sparrow
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories


The Sun tries to be different: a journal that lives at the margins of popular culture without making a religion out of it, that acknowledges our kinship with one another by what we don’t print as well as what we do.

By Sy Safransky

Last Leg

Tripod has been peacefully asleep for many minutes, yet I am still running my hand from her ear down to her hip, stroking her again and again. But now I remember why I brought her here, and I look up into the solemn face of the old vet and nod.

By Kristin Levine

The Necessary Plane

Cherokee had worried that Johnny’s top hat might attract terrorists, but they were lucky. He rode out of Lima with money in his pockets. He even gave Cherokee a fifty to hide in her bra.

By Mark Jacobs