By Naomi Nowak
NBM/Comicslit
The field of comics, also sometimes known as graphic novels, is dominated by male creators and readers. However, there’s been increasing push in the last few decades by women to enter the field and make their mark. Though comics drawn by women are gaining popularity, most are classified as “indie,” distributed by small [...]

The first time that she wore pink,

Nobody recognized her.

She was the tough girl,

The rough girl,

The badass, Do Not Touch Me girl.

Peggy and Luke meet in Vegas where inhibitions go to die. Aunt Abigail, clearly having her priorities straight, says she will allow Luke to sell the house if he and Peggy remain married for one year. Needing her share of the house’s selling price, Peggy starts leading a double life. During the week she lives and works in the city and on weekends she rents a car, drives to Connecticut, and pretends to be the happily married wife of a genuine, full-blooded WASP.

The majority of the book focuses on Norman alone. He is seventeen, and turning into quite the Hebrew scholar, yet he doesn’t feel a strong spiritual connection with his studies. His student is impossible—she wants nothing to do with this Bat Mitzvah stuff. Rather than fight her, Norman sits back passively and lets Bayla waste their time. He observes the goings-on at Bayla’s, contrasts their rich lifestyle with his family’s poverty, and feels shame. Still, he does very little.

The union of Titania and Oberon, Shakespeare’ infamous fairy royalty, is shaken when Titania takes a human lover… and bears him a child. The complete For Love of the Queen is available as a formatted script for productions. To request permission for use, email richenda@richendagould.com

She wasn’t sure how long they had spent in the Garden. Time was still a slippery concept for her. Every so often she would recall that she had last seen a particular stone the day before, or several days ago, but then the relation would disappear as she became distracted. There was much to be distracted by in Eden.

The children mumble sleepily; snoozily. She’s just put them down, in the middle of the afternoon, but the heavy curtains make the rooms dark and heavy. Both doorways face each other across the hallway, each close with the smells of small children. She, Karen, can see into the boys’ room from here. It’s thick and warm, set to the rhythm of air escaping and filling soft pink lips.