Someone asked me recently how the writing was going. It’s a thoughtful question, one showing genuine interest. So, why then does it feel impossible to answer?

When I write, I have no idea how it’s going. I’m in the dark, feeling around, trying stuff out. Is that a door handle? Does it turn? I strive for clarity, but mostly stumble. With Also Here, I spent years trying to weave together two voices, to balance the back and forth between me and my grandma, then and now, knowing and not knowing. It was inefficient, clumsy and absolutely necessary. Writing is how I figure out what I think. It’s how I draw connections, create space, open stubborn doors. I may be terrible at talking about work in progress, but it’s only because I’m still processing, still stumbling around in my head.

So the writing is going and it’s going. I seem to add and delete in equal measure. My latest interests have taken me to the world of fairy tales, to wondering about the stories we tell kids and why, how those stories slip inside our bodies and live in our bones. Is there a story you heard as a kid that you still think about? An image from an elder that haunts you a little to a lot? I’ll tell you mine one day (or not).

Fiction

But speaking of fairy tales, I have a new short story out with Adroit Journal. It’s a modern retelling of a well-known fairy tale—I’ll let you figure out which one—only with more blood. Consider yourself warned.

Read: Rue

Please enjoy this sunflower from my yard, working on something she’s not yet ready to reveal. Every day she grows a few more inches over my head.

Brooke

Writing is different with a baby in the house. I no longer have long stretches of time, but adorably short ones, tiny chunks of space for thought and wonder. I’m still learning how to make it work and (as always) how to be patient. My one new trick is to leave a note to my future self at the end of my drafts, so I know where to focus the next time I stumble on a few spare minutes. (If you have other tips, I’m all ears.)

While my own projects proceed like snails, I’m taking on more editing, doing events for Also Here, reading as much as I can, and supporting other writers I admire. See below for my latest updates, including a virtual event at the end of March.

Nonfiction

My friend and former co-editor at Chestnut Review Nadia Staikos published her debut novel this fall, Until They Sleep. It’s a darkly comedic fairy tale with a magical feminist bent, and she spent as many years writing it as I spent on my memoir. Is it weird to say our books grew up together? I interviewed Nadia for Necessary Fiction to talk about desire, dreams and writing through difficult relationships.

Read: The Beginning of an Answer: A Conversation with Nadia Staikos

My essay “The History of the Holocaust Survivor” was named a notable essay of 2025 in The Best American Essays. I managed to get a copy in the brief window between bedtime and the bookstore closing for the night. Highly recommend last-minute, spur-of-the-moment bookstore runs. Many thanks to the editors for the nod.

Read: The History of the Holocaust Survivor

On March 29, I’ll be in conversation with Luke Berryman to discuss his new book, Resisting Nazism. We’ll be talking about resistance in all its forms, including art and investigation. Berryman uncovers little-known historical examples of resistance in his book, so this should be an insightful and engaging event (free for all, but registration required).

Register: Resisting Nazism with Sousa Mendes Foundation

Here’s to more sleep, more creativity, more conversation, and more resistance.

Brooke

When you spend nine years writing a book, publication takes some time to process. Did I really do that? Are my words in bookstores, in paperback and e-book? It turns out, yes. Also Here has been out for one year now and according to some librarians, it belongs right next to Rupaul’s memoir.

The book chronicles how my grandma Goldie survived three Nazi concentration camps as well as how I came to learn the story. The form is fractured, a mix of interview transcripts, memories, historical research, and casino and hair salon exploits. I wanted Also Here to reflect what it was like to be in my grandma’s company, how much love and misunderstanding a moment with her could hold.

I launched the book in Chicago and Detroit. Two events qualify as a book tour, no? Writing is largely a solitary experience, so being in a room with interested readers, bringing the questions I was living with to a larger audience, was both strange and rewarding. So many people showed up—old co-workers, teachers, family friends, relatives, strangers who like to read. I missed my Bubbie a lot at these events, but at least in Chicago, we had her cookies.

Since the book’s launch, I’ve given book talks, taken interviews, and published essays. I also had a baby. So it’s been quite the year for me, full of sharp contrasts and dramatic changes. Like in April, when I gave a talk about the book at the United Center for a group of teachers. I was twenty-four weeks pregnant, the point of viability, and could feel my little one with me the whole time.

Or in September when I signed books after my panel at Printer’s Row Lit Fest then rushed back to feed my six-week old, ready to burst. Everything about becoming an author has been intergenerational for me.

Writing Also Here was a way to unravel the silence around survival. I’m amazed by the interactions I’ve had with friends and readers, the personal notes and thoughtful reviews. My book is a small indie memoir, but it has reached people who wanted and needed it, and it continues to go places I never could’ve expected.

If you’ve read Also Here, thank you.

My grandma wanted her story told and now it is out in the world, available for all to read. It’s the work that made me an author, that helped me build a creative practice, that brought me closer to her. Neither one of us could’ve done it alone.

Happy birthday, little book.

Brooke

PS - If you’ve come this far and haven’t read Also Here, you can grab a copy here. You can also find more on my writing and speaking on my website.

Despite feeling my slowest, despite my feet becoming baked potatoes and my energy rivaling that of an intoxicated sloth, this has been my most creative summer. I say that because I created a new human being in July.

I’ve come to think of the last few months as an incubation period—for my little one and several other projects too. With a new reality on the horizon but not here yet, I wrote and read as much as I could, eager to make the most of my last months as a non-parent. Now I’m in the thick of that other reality, surrounded by words like lanolin, wake window, diaper cream, and swaddle. Everything I was working on during pregnancy is temporarily on hold, or emerging on its own like a stubborn daisy. I have a new short story out and an upcoming event at my favorite festival in Chicago (more below). I have a manuscript I haven’t looked at for weeks, but am excited to return to one day. What did I write? Can’t wait to find out. My attention has shifted, but my creative work, like my sleepy/hungry/cuddly child, has no sense of time. Wherever I set it, there it is. I’m grateful for the productivity of this summer, and the simplicity of my days now: full arms, damp clothes, tiny fingers wrapped around much more tired ones.

Now, on to those daisies.

Non-fiction

Come see me at the 40th Printer’s Row Lit Fest! I’ll be on a panel event on Saturday September 6 at 1 pm called Holocaust Lit in the 21st Century. (Full schedule here.) Along with novelists Lisa Barr and Tod Lending, I’ll be in conversation with Anca L. Szilágyi about contemporary Holocaust literature and my memoir Also Here. There will also be a book signing afterwards. I used to volunteer for the festival, so this is a full-circle moment for me. Come say hi!

Fiction

SFWP Journal published my short story “Nostalgia Was My Dog,” a piece about death, dying, and making impulse decisions at a dog shelter. I started this story several years ago when it felt like death was all around me, so it’s funny to see it published now that new life swarms. Check it out.

Read: Nostalgia Was My Dog

Hope you’re finding your own balance between effort and rest. I am running on very little sleep, and a scary amount of love.

Brooke

It’s been four months since my book Also Here was published, though it feels like much longer. Funny how time bends like that. I got to experience the rush of book events, interviews and reader feedback, and the lull that comes with returning to the empty page.

Here are some highlights from the last few months:

Also Here

In many ways, writing a book is the beginning of a conversation. After talking to myself for years, I now get to talk to others. I love hearing what stands out to readers and what questions they have about my writing or my grandma, Golda Indig. Some recent interviews include:

• “How to Choose an Opening Scene for a Memoir, with Brooke Randel” - QWERTY Podcast 🔈

• “Also Here” - Good Grief with Cheryl Jones 🔈

• “Pour Yourself Into the Gap: An Interview with Brooke Randel” - Hypertext Magazine 📝

If you’ve read the book and want to share your thoughts, send me a note and/or write a review online. Both are appreciated. (I’m told 50 reviews is the magic number, and I’m at 35 and counting.)

Last week, I had the amazing opportunity to speak to the Holocaust Education Leadership Academy, a program tailored to educators who teach the Holocaust. The event was held at the United Center, so I can now say I've given a talk about my Bubbie at the same place where Michael Jordan won multiple NBA championships with the Chicago Bulls.

Coming up: I have a virtual event on April 27 where I’ll be speaking on a panel of authors with books on the Holocaust. You can RSVP here.

Buy the book

Editorial Work

After five years as a reader and editor at Chestnut Review, I decided to resign this spring to spend more time on my own writing. I loved being part of the magazine— ranked six for fiction by Chill Subs—and am grateful for all the people I got to meet along the way. I now edit on the side (more info on my website if you’re interested), and want to highlight a few favorite pieces I got to edit during my tenure at the mag.

A Language for Boys by Andrew Zhou * Hole by Amie Souza Reilly * The Many Uses of a Banyan Tree by Subhravanu Das * Factor X by Shedrack Opeyemi Akanbi * Florida Gothic by Nathan Holic * Palomita Azul by Sofia Romero

Audio available for all CR pieces.

New Writing

Though I’m still doing events for Also Here, I now have the time and space for some new projects too. I expected this would be daunting, but it’s been nice to get back to the rhythm of reading, writing and thinking. In January, I got to attend a writer’s retreat at Ragdale, a beautiful space with just the right number of fireplaces. I’m still in the early phase of developing new ideas, but it’s a good, messy place to be.

And speaking of new work, I have a short story coming out soon. After much nonfiction, I’m excited to publish fiction again. The great SFWP Journal will be publishing my short story, “Nostalgia Was My Dog” in May.

Until then, I’ll be writing. Hope your early spring is full of good dirt, crisp light and fresh starts.

Brooke

It’s been one month since Also Here came out and I’m still processing what a busy, exciting, unusual month it’s been. I launched the book here in Chicago at the Book Cellar with Anca L. Szilágyi; did a virtual interview with 3GNY; had several essays, interviews and excerpts come out; and also got this very fancy, very official author sweatshirt from my sister-in-law.

As a reminder of how much rejection is a part of the writing life, I also received two rejections for a short story the day Also Here came out. Gotta stay humble.

But there’ve been far more positives than negatives, so I thought I’d share some of the highlights here.

New Essay

Split Lip Magazine has long been one of my dream pubs. I absolutely love the work they publish and the way they present each piece with its own custom art. I started writing this essay four years ago—I’m a reliably slow writer—as I was considering what the label of survivor, and specifically Holocaust survivor, really meant. Many thanks to the Split Lip editors Jeneé Skinner, Krys Malcolm Belc, and Maureen Langloss for making this piece even sharper.

Read: The History of the Holocaust Survivor

New Interviews

Sara Lippmann is one of those whip-smart writers I’ve read from afar for many years. So, to have her interview me for the Chicago Review of Books was a magical experience. And she asked about everything: lessons from my grandma, the “ear” of the story, the temptation of fiction, writing against denial and more.

Read: “Survival is Not a Place but a Pursuit”: An Interview with Brooke Randel

The extremely cool book/music site Largehearted Boy asked me to put together a playlist inspired by Also Here. I was daunted at first, the book is largely about a genocide, but the more I thought about it, the more songs came to me—songs that picked me up, made me think and inspired me to keep going. If you’re also curious how (or if) I pulled this off, check out the playlist below.

Read: Brooke Randel’s music playlist for her memoir Also Here

And I did an interview with the great Deborah Kalb. For those interested in the origin of the title Also Here, I speak more about it here.

Read: Q&A with Brooke Randel

Reader Feedback

I’m shocked by how many fast readers I know, including several people who told me they read the book in a single sitting. How?! is my first thought. Unbelievable would be my grandma’s. Thank you all your reading, buying, gifting, and reviewing.

Online reviews and word of mouth help readers find indie books like mine, so if you read Also Here like a bullet train, or even just appreciated it generally, consider leaving a review online or suggesting it to a friend.

What’s Next?

My next event is January 22 at Schuler Books in West Bloomfield, Michigan. If you’re in Michigan, you can learn more and RSVP for the event here. And I have another virtual event coming up in April. More to come.

I’m also starting to have the space to work on new projects. I like taking the low-and-slow approach to writing, so “starting to have the space” is really non-news until it isn’t, but I’m excited to see what comes. And of course, eventually, I’ll share more here.

Hope you all had lovely holidays. Here’s to another year of good reading and writing.

Brooke

Today is officially Also Here’s pub day! (Pub day is short for publication day. If you want to bring the book to a pub, that’s cool too.) I have so many things swirling in my head, but I think the most pressing is to say thank you. Thank you for supporting, following and rooting for me. Thank you for pre-ordering and sending kind messages and photos, and sharing my essays and stories.

I know there will be more to share soon, but how about some pictures?

Interviews

In addition to baking, I’ve also been busy with book promotion. Here are some radio, podcast and written interviews I’ve done in the last few weeks.

“In Conversation with Terry Shepherd” 🔈 (~15 mins)

“Also Here - Good Grief with Cheryl Jones” 🔈 (~60 mins)

“Chicago-based author Brooke Randel discusses her new book, Also Here, with Dr. Luke Berryman” - The Ninth Candle 🎥 (~30 mins)

“Longing, Literacy, and Our Grandmas: A Conversation with Brooke Randel by Nadia Staikos” - JMWW

“Brooke Randel - Authors Answer” -Five-question interview with

And as if that’s not enough, Chicago Review of Books included Also Here on their list of “12 Must-Read Books of December 2024.” 🎉

From Chicago author Brooke Randel comes Also Here, a deeply moving memoir about the author’s relationship to her grandmother and Holocaust survivor Golda Indig. For years the two never talked about her grandmother’s experiences, until she called unexpectedly to ask Brooke to write about her life and experience in the war. The result is a deeply resonant and unflinching memoir about her grandmother’s journey of survival and the special relationship between grandparents and their grandchildren.

Events

How many events make a book tour? Three? In that case, there’s also a book tour, starting tonight.

1. Also Here Book Launch - Book Cellar, Chicago, IL

   Tuesday, December 10, 2024 at 7 pm ct

2. 3GNY Book Release and Author Talk with 3G Brooke Randel - Virtual

   Wednesday, December 11, 2024 at 7 pm ct

3. Reading at Schuler Books - West Bloomfield, MI

   Wednesday, January 22, 2024 at 7 pm et

I started this project nine years ago when the idea of a book felt like a hazy dream. Now my words, as well as my Bubbie’s, are out in the world, living their own wild life. I don’t have any official data yet, but I know the book has already shipped to California, New York, Pennsylvania, Vermont, North Carolina, Florida, Canada and more (thanks to everyone who ordered a signed copy). It’s been a whirlwind and there’s still more to come. This is probably obvious, but I miss my grandma a lot.

If you want to help support the book, consider leaving a review online, buying for a friend, or requesting it from your local library. Some links:

• Buy Also Here from Bookshop (US)

• Buy Also Here from Barnes & Noble (US & Canada)

• Buy Also Here as an ebook

As Goldie would say, unbelievable.

Brooke

I’m in the window between my book being accepted for publication and actually being published, and the window is shrinking. Suddenly, December 10 is not so far away. (If you have no idea what I’m talking about, you can find more about my book, Also Here: Love, Literacy, and the Legacy of the Holocaust here.)

Getting ready for Also Here’s publication has meant doing things I’ve never done before: being interviewed by writers I love, working with editors on new essays, preparing for podcasts, planning book events. It feels like everything is happening at once, but really it’s only happening because I spent the last nine years plodding and poking at my keyboard. I’m trying to savor every bit. I’m trying not to miss my Bubbie too much.

Here’s a peek inside the pre-pub window.

Book launch

I’ve been finalizing details for the Chicago book launch. There’s now a link to RSVP, so check it out if you plan to attend. I’ll read a little, be in conversation with Anca L. Szilágyi and of course, sign books.

Also Here - Book Launch

Book Cellar in Lincoln Square, Chicago

12/10 at 7pm

RSVP here!

Signed Copies

If you can’t make it to the book launch and would like a signed copy, you can now buy one straight from Tortoise Books. I haven’t signed these yet, so please know you can leave “signing instructions” for me at purchase. No pressure, right?

Buy: Also Here (signed copy)

Essays & Interviews

I wrote an essay about the process of writing Also Here for Write or Die Magazine. I love hearing how writers put together their books because 1. there is no one right way and 2. it demystifies what can seem so outrageous from afar. My process was far from a straight line, so if you’d like a little demystification, check it out.

Read: Writing in a Zigzag

I have another essay coming out at the end of the year with one of my dream pubs, Split Lip Magazine. Stay tuned for more.

Reviews

Though Also Here isn’t out yet for the public, it is available for reviewers. Eek. This part of the process is as nerve-racking as you’d think. Want to know what critics are saying? So far, I’ve gotten reviews from Publishers Weekly, NewPages, and Shelf Awareness.

There’s probably more to say, but I’ll end on this: my talented husband built custom bookcases for our office and they’re incredible. Oak, adjustable shelves, more space for books that I’ve ever had. So when I (finally) got an advanced copy of Also Here—not the real thing but close—I threw it on one of the shelves for a photo. Here’s this small, intense thing I made nestled into this giant, intense thing he made. A nice match, I must say.

Wishing you all good reading, writing, resting, and eating.

Brooke

When I was writing Also Here, I often pictured the manuscript in its final form—a solid object with crisp pages, a sturdy spine. I imagined its weight in my hands, the sound of peeling it open, that good book smell, all as a way to believe this not-yet-real thing could one day be real. I could make it real. No matter how big a Word doc gets, it never feels like a book. It feels like a Word doc that takes forever to open.

And now it’s real. The manuscript is a book, and the book has a cover.

Cover!

Several years ago, for reasons I can no longer remember, I asked my friend and former art director partner Ali Doucette to design a mock cover for Also Here. (One of the great perks of working in advertising is the incredibly talented people you get to work with and befriend.) She designed several options, one of which immediately caught my eye. It had an intimacy that spoke to me, simple but moody, a whiff of secrecy as one head whispers to another. Although Also Here is a Holocaust memoir, I didn’t want it to feel unapproachably dark and depressive. The book is more than that—there’s an ill-fated trip to a casino, baked goods, gin rummy, strange gifts, all mixed in with the harrowing and historical. Fast forward to 2024 and I showed Ali’s work to my editor and he agreed: it’s amazing. Ali was game to refine her cover for the final version, honing the typography and colors, including the icy gray-blue background you see above. I’m so excited her design is now out in the world, and an official part of the story.

And when I say out in the world, I mean it. I googled the book the other day and found it on Target.

Pre-order!

That means Also Here is now available for pre-order, which means you can buy it today and receive it in December. I’m told that’s soon. I’m told this is all real. Soon I’ll be able to hold this nine-year project in my hands and feel its weight. And so can you. If you’d like to support my work, you can pre-order Also Here at Bookshop, Barnes & Noble (they ship to Canada), and most other online booksellers.

Pre-order ALSO HERE

Book launch!

As if that’s not thrilling/overwhelming/unbelievable enough, there’s going to be a party. So if you’re in Chicago, skip the pre-order and wait to get the book at the launch party. You’ll be able to buy Also Here in person at one of my favorite indie bookstores (shoutout to The Book Cellar), hear me chat about it with the talented Anca L. Szilágyi and watch as my wobbly hand signs it for you. Chances are high there will be food. Consider this a save-the-date, and mark your calendar:

Also Here Book Launch

In Conversation with Anca L. Szilágyi

December 10 at 7 pm at The Book Cellar (Lincoln Square)

Chicago, IL

Many of you have been tracking my slow journey toward publication for years. Whenever you started following, thank you for being along for the ride. Good company makes the road trip. I’m so excited to share Also Here with you, and all that’s still to come.

Brooke

As of April, it’s been two years without my grandma. For some reason, it’s her food I’ve been thinking about most. An idea for a dish comes to me and won’t leave me alone until I make it. So, I make it. I’m sure she’d love this, especially the part where I sit down and eat. Feeding others was always her favorite activity. My mom taught me how to cook her roasted chicken and I made some decent palacsinta (Hungarian crepes or blintzes) on my own. For the blintzes, I didn’t have the recipe on hand, so I googled Golda Indig and pulled it from her obituary in the Chicago Sun-Times. Strange, but effective. I recommend adding strawberries.

Fiction

New story! I’ve been tinkering on this one for a while and am thrilled to have Necessary Fiction publish it. It’s about the idea of adulthood, but also old neighbors, remote work and the weirdness that comes with Zoom.

Read: Adultboat

Nonfiction

Only seven months until Also Here comes out. How is that possible?

I don’t have a lot of updates (yet!), but I did get to see a galley, an early look at the interior layout of the book. There she was, my slow-loading Word doc, all grown up. I’ve also been getting blurbs from other authors for promotion. Considering my work in advertising, you’d think book marketing would be right up my alley, but it’s nerve-wracking to put eight years of creative work (going on nine) out into the world, especially when your name is on the front, your family is in the middle and the people you’re reaching out to are supremely talented. I wanted this stress and scrutiny? I worked hard for it? Part of publication, I’m learning, is distracting yourself from publication. So I’ve been reading a ton, starting new work, editing for Chestnut Review, going through line edits for Also Here, cooking like my Bubbie, and writing this little email for you.

Thanks, as always, for being curious, kind and down for a nosh.

Brooke

I received so many messages after my last email—thank you for all the love over my book news. Some highlights include:

• CONGRATULATIONS and MAZEL TOV!! Very very excited for you!! 

• i am so proud of you, no longer are you the cliche of a copywriter who has a book they are writing!! you’re a published author!!!

• I just shit my pants. I’m assuming you know why.

I’m now in the middle of edits for Also Here, and am hoping to be wrapped soon. Much of writing is editing, but this kind of editing feels different. It’s higher stakes, one of the last times to weigh the many narrative choices that go into a book, decisions on order, image, language, tone. So strange to think this never-ending project will have an end after all. It’s a thrilling notion, and for the first time, a frightening one too.

While I finalize the details, feel free to check out my website to get a little more info on Also Here and other pieces I’ve written on my grandma. Plus, I added a few pics of us looking cute.

And speaking of other pieces, I have a new flash essay out. I wrote this essay after I framed two of my grandma’s obituaries, then realized I had no clue what to do with them. In what room does one showcase their grief? Many thanks to JMWW for publishing this essay, and to my nephew Abe who (unknowingly) made a painting that helped me piece my feelings together.

Read: Grief, the Interior Decorator »

Thanks for reading. If you have any questions about my work, the book or its long journey to publication, send me an email or drop a comment on Substack. I’d love to share what people are most curious about, and based on my friend Vrinda grilling me over FaceTime, I’m guessing people have a few questions.

May you all have an ice cream sundae kind of day.

Brooke

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I got a book deal. Still can’t believe it. I got a book deal!

For the last eight years, I've been working on this book in one way or another: interviewing my grandma Goldie, transcribing her words, digging into research, writing, rewriting, rewriting again. ALSO HERE is a memoir about survival—how my grandma survived the Holocaust and how her story survived all that followed. I truly did not know the details of my family's history until I started writing about it. It's amazing what you can learn when you sit down and listen.

So, after years of receiving rejections, many of which helped me sharpen the book, many of which were just crushing, I finally got an offer of publication. A independent publisher in Canada told me they wanted to publish the book. I told the two other presses reading my manuscript and one got back to me with a second offer. (The other sent an out-of-office reply, followed by a rejection.) After so many closed doors, I now had two open ones. Two! My brother has a swivel chair in his living room where my nephews like me to spin them, and that feeling of stillness after turning in circles, that eerie unstable calm, was exactly how I felt staring at these offers.

All that to say: ALSO HERE will come out in December 2024 through Tortoise Books, an indie publisher in Chicago. 🎉🎉

I’m still pinching myself. Is this real? Have I stopped spinning? While I come to my senses, here’s an unofficial blurb on the book as well as a photo of me and my grandma leaning on a counter.

At 13, Golda Indig escaped the gas chambers at Auschwitz twice. It was a story she never told, in part because she never learned to read and write. As her youngest grandchild, I flew to her condo in south Florida to help sort through the confusion of the past. But when the memories came, they came as a stampede, neither of us ready to handle the onslaught of traumatic details, missing information and misremembered names. When we ran errands together, we lost each other in public, unable to think alike. Amid all our misunderstandings, I began to untangle the close calls and heartbreaking choices, how my grandma persevered through the war and after it too. ALSO HERE: LOVE, LITERACY AND THE LEGACY OF THE HOLOCAUST is an intergenerational Holocaust memoir on the echoes of silence, survival and hidden family history.

I can't wait to share this work with all of you. More to come, but for now thank you. Thank you for all your support, interest, kindness and encouragement. I'm going to go eat something now, which I know my grandma would appreciate.

Brooke

I have a theory that writing is good for your brain, but bad for your body. At least in the short term. So, please know I pieced together this email with care between stretch breaks and walks around the block.

Nonfiction

I’ve always loved mail—getting it, writing it, storing it in boxes for nostalgia’s sake. Earlier this year, my co-editor at Chestnut Review Nadia Staikos and I wrote letters back and forth to each other, weighing what we’ve learned about writing through the work of editing. Our collected letters are now in the latest issue of Poets & Writers, an industry magazine reaching over 100,000 people. Such a thrill to get this in the mail!

Read: The Magic in the Mix: The Art of Reading and Editing a Literary Magazine (print only)

Also, Nadia’s first novel Until They Sleep is coming out in 2025. Can’t wait for its release!

As for my manuscript—a memoir on my grandma, literacy and the legacy of the Holocaust—it was recently named a finalist for the Autumn House Nonfiction Prize (🎉🎉🎉). I’m honored and bummed all at once. I’m still in pursuit of a publisher, but can tell I’m inching closer to this little white whale of mine.

Fiction

I have no short stories to share, but suspect I will soon. I started AWP’s Writer 2 Writer mentorship program this fall and my mentor, author Mark Pleiss, has encouraged me to write thirty minutes a day, five days a week. “It’s like going to the gym,” he says, and as someone who goes to the climbing gym twice a week without a second thought, I can say it’s true. Routine fuels practice. So lots of stories in the work, including some hare-brained ones.

In the meantime, let me recommend some recent fiction I edited for Chestnut Review:

• “What are the plans for the weekend?” by Glenn Orgias is a thrill ride of a story in which a man loses a leg on the side of the road.

• “Cycles” by Nicole Hazan is a slow burner on IVF, hormones and a doozy of a husband.

Thanks as always for reading. None of this makes sense without you.

Brooke

I made a few changes to my email newsletter, the largest of which being that I moved it to Substack. The design might look a bit different, but it’s still me writing little messages just for you.

Non-fiction

In honor of getting married last month, I decided to publish an essay that I originally wrote for NYT’s Modern Love column, but got rejected. (You never know until you try.) Please enjoy my story of ice-cold radiators, Aaron’s old studio, and Wrigley Field mid-pandemic.

Read: When The Boiler Breaks, There’s Always His Studio Apartment

The lovely SugarSugarSalt Magazine reprinted a favorite short of mine on my great-grandma’s sewing machine, which now lives in my living room. Story and pic below.

Read: Heirloom from River Rouge, Michigan

My amazing co-editor at Chestnut Review Nadia Staikos and I just sold an essay about the behind-the-scenes of our editing work to Poets & Writers. The piece will be out in the November/December print issue. Exciting! Until then, lots more editing to do. (If you’re curious what we publish at Chestnut Review, here’s the latest issue.)

Fiction

I have no new fiction to share, but I can tell you what’s in my work-in-progress stories: boats, bad decisions, a brown dog, toy cars, fallen oranges, professional impersonation. We’ll see where they go from here.

This humble email list continues to grow. Thank you for all your support and encouragement. When I think about the kind of writing life I wanted when I was younger, this is pretty much it. Happy to share a piece of it with you.

Brooke

This is Brooke Randel Writes Things. The same as before, but now on Substack. Feel free to share with others. It’s open and free for all.

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My story "Perfect Stranger" was nominated for a Pushcart Prize by FlashFlood. 🎊

NONFICTION
One Wild Ride, an anthology of work on caregiving, reprinted my essay "Swimming with My Grandma." I also got to write a reflection on the piece, which you can read here.

Thanks as always for reading along. And if you're just a skimmer, thanks for skimming. That counts, too.

Brooke

When Golda Indig was 13, she was sent to the gas chambers at Auschwitz twice and escaped both times, hiding from the Nazis inside their own camps. It was a story she never told, in part because she never learned to read and write. As her youngest grandchild, I flew to her condo in south Florida to help sort through the confusion of the past. But when the memories came, they came as a stampede, neither of us ready to handle the onslaught of traumatic details, missing information and misremembered names. When we ran errands together, we lost each other in public, unable to think alike. Amid all our misunderstandings, I began to untangle the close calls and heartbreaking choices, the crutch of food, and the appeal of forgetting. ALSO HERE: LOVE, LITERACY AND THE LEGACY OF THE HOLOCAUST is an intergenerational Holocaust memoir on survival, silence and what happens when we share.

🤞🤞

FICTION

My story "Key of Silences" will be out in TIMBER in January. It's auto fiction based on a breakfast I had with my grandma last year. More to come. (As always, I keep links to my stories on my website.)

Thanks for reading. I hope your holidays are a happy, peaceful blur.

Brooke 

My manuscript—a collaboration with my grandma on the legacy of the Holocaust—is nearly ready for a new round of submissions. I'm wrapping up revisions now and feeling pretty good. When I printed a copy for her this spring, she said "beautiful!" just looking at the stack of papers. I miss her, but feel her presence so clearly. I'll be sure to share more stories and news as it comes.

Much love,
Brooke