Amy Wang's Writings
In the mornings my mother brought me milk while we had breakfast. The other children would stop and stare as she handed me the bottle – a narrow jar small enough to fit easily in my hand, made of clear glass to show off the smooth white liquid and covered with condensation from sitting in the countertop refrigerator in the store downstairs. My uncle stocked...
I've been an editor for 20 years and a writer for about 30 years. I started to take writing seriously after I won $10 in a creative writing contest in my town. OK, I won the $10 because NO ONE ELSE entered - but still, it was a revelation to discover that...