creative nonfiction

Derek Bridges / Flickr

When I woke up and checked the news, I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I stared at my screen in disbelief. This was really happening. This was the new reality. And there was nothing that I could do about it. I had to muster every ounce of inner strength I had just to say the words, to make them real, to accept that this was the truth.

“The New Orleans Zephyrs are now...the New Orleans Baby Cakes.”

Hunter Desportes / Flickr

Note: this piece is a work of satire.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock lately, you’re probably aware that it’s once again election season in America. And if you do happen to live under a rock, I’m kind of envious, because, again, it’s election season in America. Choosing new leaders for our great nation tends to bring out the crazy in just about everyone every four years. 

New Orleans Summer And Other Harsh Truths

Sep 1, 2016


When I left New Orleans as a young adult to pursue an education and later a career in other parts of America, I quickly realized that simply being from the 504 carried with it a certain exotic quality. “Wait,” new acquaintances would say, “you’re actually from New Orleans? I never thought that someone could, you know...grow up there…”

You are about to enter another dimension. Not just one of sight and sound, but of mind. It is a dimension of costumed revelry and sugared cakes with plastic babies, of fanatics dressed in black and gold and sandwiches dressed with “mynez” and Crystal. A dimension of wild celebration of the human condition, a place where everyone is “dawlin” and no one is without a cold drink. 

There is a signpost up ahead. You are about to enter...The New Orleans Zone.

Angel Trumpets release some of the best smells in the city.
Scott Gold / Nolavie

When people fall in love with New Orleans -- a phenomenon that happens on a daily basis around here -- they’re wont to wax poetically about the familiar qualities that make this city such a special and enchanting place.

But all of this gushing tends to leave out a single and singular fact of life in the Crescent City: This town, for lack of a better word, smells.

Storyville: 'Grieving For The Pies I've Never Eaten'

Feb 6, 2014
Laura McKnight

I’m a fan of most South Louisiana specialties — crawfish, king cake, Zapp’s Potato Chips, et cetera — but a few things make me feel like a traitor to my local roots: I prefer my coffee without chicory, I’m ambivalent about oysters, and I’m pretty sure I have never in my life eaten a Hubig’s Pie.