Amy Stuber

@amystuber.com

Writer, editor, worker bee: amystuber.com SAD GROWNUPS (Stillhouse Press, Oct 2024), Winner of the PEN/Robert W. Bingham Prize for Debut Short Story Collection Contributing Editor: splitlipthemag.com

I haven't been writing at all. Things have felt heavy. Blah blah blah. But I did write this little essay about my younger child's spontaneous partial lung collapse, if medical emergencies are your thing: amystuber1.substack.com/p/emergency

Emergency

Three weeks after he spent a night in the ER, my son told me he had been listening to Smog’s “Feather by Feather,” headphones on, midnight at the hospital, while a team of what sounded like twenty hos...

amystuber1.substack.com

I have a Canadian colleague who gets a full year off for maternity leave. I had six weeks both times, and why do we opt to pay for wars and billionaire tax breaks when we could use government to take care of ourselves and each other.

This was a genuine thrill and shock (I guess I'm a mystery writer - who knew!?). @aaronburch.bsky.social is such a champion of writers, and I'm so appreciative of his kindness and support. This was a story I thought was doomed to sit on my computer, but he helped shape it up and gave it a home!

Aaron Burch@aaronburch.bsky.social · 4mo ago

Couldn't be more excited to get to share that @amystuber.com's Short Story, Long story, "Swans," was selected for The Best American Mystery and Suspense 2026! This was not only one of my fave stories I published last year, but one of my fave stories of the year, period. Congrats, Amy!!

Small Saturday reminder that your human body and face are good, your space is good, and you don’t need to devote your weekend energy to trying to change these things unless you really want to; “improvement” is often a capitalist ruse to keep us disconnected, uncreative, and distracted

Committing to coming out of my day job/world is burning coma to move into a more creative phase and actually write again. Who is with me?

Tall window at the top of an old staircase - blue sky and clouds through window - curved stair railing in foreground. 1881 house with dark wood and old wallpaper

there's a point in novel writing when you start thinking "maybe this old thing from this other old project goes in this new thing," and I'm here to say: no, don't, it doesn't.

I know there's a war going on, and this point is absolutely nonessential, but side note: can we stop with the dangerously thin, heavily surgically altered women? if that's your thing, okay. but acting like that's aspirational? don't we have more to aim for as we age?

ICE is now in the small Kansas college town where I live, rolling up in unmarked cars, conducting armed, masked kidnappings of people on sidewalks & in the parking lots of chain stores and fast food restaurants

After decades of the Republican party's incessant shaming and morality policing, all their faux "family values," they are silent as Trump again shares racist content and appears over 30k times in the Epstein files. Tells you everything you need to know.

Every documents release a reminder that many men still view women and girls as objects, there for them to use Also: we already know this man is a rapist who bragged about assaulting women. What new evidence will it take to change the minds of those still loyal? What more do they need to see?

Heartbreakingly sad how many people will say it’s ok for humans to be violently dragged away from their kids and homes, brutalized, even killed, all in the name of nationalism. America, I should never be surprised

Random but putting it out there that if you need someone for a conference, panel, reading, podcast, etc., I’d be interested! I’ve been consumed by my day job and would love the chance to talk to people about writing 💕

If he can, in a twelve-hour period, militarily unseat another country's leader, claim control of that country, threaten to similarly take over multiple other countries, all without any Congressional involvement, Congress is dead, its power completely gone.

What is this weird stuck time of life, the year before no kids in the house, the year after doing something I always wanted to do, my parents old, me old or getting there. Stuck but racing. Still the trees at night and the orange moon half eaten by clouds. Still tomorrow.