Stories, Essays, & Travel Writing by Michelle Richmond
On this page you will find many of Michelle Richmond’s short stories, essays and travel writing dating back to her first publication in 1995. You’ll find links to literary magazines and anthologies where available. Several of the short stories have been collected in The Girl in the Fall-Away Dress (2001) and Hum (2014).
Michelle Richmond stipple portrait for the Wall Street Journal
Short Stories
“An Object in Orbit,” Boulevard, Volume 35, No. 1, Fall 2019
“The Great Amphibian.” Winner of the Mississippi Review Prize in Fiction. Mississippi Review, Summer 2006. Special mention in the 2007 Pushcart Prize anthology.
“Fifth Grade: A Criminal History.” Virgin Fiction. Ed. Eugene Stein. William Morrow and Co., 1999.
“Curvature.” Brevity. Spring 1999.
“Mosque.” Belles’ Letters. Ed. Joe Taylor. Livingston University Press, 1999.
“Propaganda.” The Florida Review 23.2. 1999.
“This Is Not a Love Story.” Fish Stories: Collective Two. 1996.
“The Last Bad Thing” Gulf Coast 8.2. 1996.
“The Sound of Them.” Alabama Bound. Ed. James E. Colquitt. Livingston University Press, 1995.
The Last Taco Truck in Silicon Valley, CNET
Paris is silent and still. A few joggers are out on the streets, a few solo shoppers with groceries. Ambulances race down the wide boulevards, sirens off. There is no need for sirens when the streets are empty. At 8 pm we go on our balconies to applaud.
“Blackout in Ushuaia.” By the Seat of My Pants. Ed. Don George. Lonely Planet 2005. Argentina
“Following the Ice Line North.” 7×7 Magazine. Winter 2002. Iceland, Scotland
“In the Valley of the Beautiful Women.” Adventures in Wine: True Stories of Vineyards and Vintages Around the World. Ed. Them Elkjer. Travelers Tales 2002. Hungary
“Lost in Beijing.” (essay) Lonely Planet anthology Tales From Nowhere. Ed. Don George. 2006. China
In Search of the Ultimate Winter, WSJ
Paris after lockdown, The Reluctant Parisian
Scotland in winter was startlingly bleak. In tiny Dufftown, home of the Glenfiddich Distillery, the streets were slick with ice. The road leading into town was stacked with barrels of whisky. The whole place smelled fermented.
I’m not sure if anything better captures the feeling of Northern California than this Kate Wolf original. “Here in California fruit hangs heavy on the vine / There’s no gold, I thought I’d warn you / But the hills turn brown in the summertime.” California is great, really great, but it’s never perfect and, if you’re not from here, it’s never quite what you expect it to be.