Topics | Cancer | The Sun Magazine #3


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In The Dermatologist’s Office, Again

The cancer he wanted / to cut out of my back / somehow disappeared / in the month / since the biopsy.

By Robert Tremmel July 2018
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

One Flight Up

One can die in cleanliness, or one can die in filth. I’m not talking about your soul. At the Prince Hotel — an old Bowery flophouse — the men paid a few dollars a night to live in stalls, four feet wide and six feet deep, with chicken-wire ceilings.

By Mary Jane Nealon April 2018
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Sanctuary Sites

Throughout it all, I put one foot in front of the other, watching the gray ribbon of road unspool beneath me.

By Megan Fulwiler March 2018
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Last Lecture

Recently I was invited to give a special lecture at the university where I teach. I accepted the invitation though, contrary to what my sons might tell you, I don’t really like to lecture.

By Mick Cochrane March 2018

Illness And Literature

In those cold rooms with the blue plastic chairs, / sometimes the human condition / is an old Texas redneck with a brushy mustache / reading a Louis L’Amour novel / while waiting for his chemotherapy

By Tony Hoagland February 2018
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

The Queen of Hearts

Rule #20: Never bring a book to work. It makes the customers think you’re better than them. It doesn’t matter what you’re reading. It doesn’t matter if you’ve finished cleaning all the glasses and it’s a quiet Monday afternoon — leave the book at home. You’ll know this when your father comes behind the bar looking pissed and tells you to come into his office.

By Kathleen Hawes January 2018

Stage Four

Now I believe in everything. / Aromatherapy: peppermint and sandalwood / and lavender and especially frankincense, / because, you know, the Three Wise Men. / Mindful breathing, I believe in that, too.

By Mick Cochrane December 2017

Selected Poems

from “Better Than Expected” | Things were not as bad as I had thought. / The scrape in the fender of the rented car / could be hidden with a little white paint / before I returned it to the agency.

By Tony Hoagland August 2017
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Death Of A Fisherman

We lived in a place between mountains in the trout lands. The fish dwelt in the chill of eternal movement, slick and lithe and beautiful, in the curve of sapphire rivers twinkling with western sun. This was why we’d moved to Montana when I was a boy — to chase fish, in the church of my father’s religion.

By Sean P. Smith March 2017
The Sun Interview

Every Reason To Stay

Eva Saulitis’s Life With Whales

I have to say, what kept me there was not the science but the place. I wanted to be there in a way that had purpose. I didn’t want to visit or go on long kayak trips. I wanted to spend my life in Prince William Sound. For five years I lived at a field camp for three or four months at a time. The work gave me a purpose for being there: a part to play in protecting the ecosystem.

By Christine Byl January 2017