An array of women’s voices challenge what counts as environmental literature.
The Internet has burrowed inside my head and laid eggs, and it feels like they’re all hatching.
Wildness doesn’t just exist in facing off a lion with a burning branch.
I don’t believe in an afterlife. I’m not worried I’ll come back as a tampon.
If not for my books and the iguana I rescued from a pet shop, I’m not sure how I would have survived.
