Garwood City is a place you’d only want to visit in fiction, populated with bottom-shelf drunks and grave robbers, a shotgun-toting Momma with one good eye, a zombie or two, and the actual devil. Fortunately for us, it does exist in Kacie Prologo’s intoxicating – and sometimes intoxicated -- fiction, a town, as she writes, 'with sloe gin budgets and whiskey expectations.' Kacie has voice to burn, her pages cranking out gnarly metaphors, hard-bitten dialect, and rustic shards of description that pepper these short stories like buckshot from Momma’s gun. —David Giffels
Kacie Prologo is a Rust Belt writer who has spent her life wrapped up in the kinds of familial mythology that runs rampant in her hometown of Alliance, Ohio. Kacie spends her time translating this family folklore into acts of gruesome fiction.
You bite the whole cupcake top to bottom. Really get in there. It shows it who's boss.
For hiccups, press your finger down and under on the space between your collar bones.
Choice of last meal?
Shrimp. Doesn’t matter what kind. I love shrimps.