Deirdre Coyle

Writer, music geek, elastic realist. Editor at Mixtape Methodology. New York City.



Fiction by Kayla Pongrac


"I’ve never had clouds in my coffee because I don’t drink coffee. I prefer thai iced tea—the way the black tea turns light orange in color when mixed with that sweetened condensed milk makes me feel like that ever-beating balled-up fist of an organ in my chest is a playground in the wintertime, and my best friend’s unborn children are swinging across red monkey bars…"

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Fiction by Annabelle Edwards


Photo: Mike Monaghan

She croons with her soprano timbre “I didn’t know, it would come to this, but that’s what happens when you’re on your own. And you’re alright, letting nice things go-oh-oh.”

A voice behind her interrupts, “Lizzy, no one is going to buy that crap. Look at the Kill Kill sales. One hundred and seventy two people bought the EP. You can’t release a record like this.”

Lizzy replies with a throaty mumble, “Just listen to a little more. It’s fresh. I just wrote it last night, let me sing the rest of the lyrics.”

The producer sighs and she returns to her guitar, gently plucking the five chords she learned at Fordham.

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Review: Sia — 1000 Forms of Fear

Control Lit Mag published my review of Sia’s 1000 Forms of Fear.

I’m tired of the line that someone drew down the middle of me. He split me into halves and said, Stay symmetrical or else. Or else what? I asked. No answer, and yet I obeyed that command my whole life.

—    Chelsea Hodson, Pity the Animal (buy here)

(via chelseahodson)

The idea of an individual changing society is so abstract and mythological it borders on the imaginary, and I work closer to the imaginary than you’re supposed to, I think, as an artist, and it’s really almost a childlike idea to think you have agency, and it’s embarrassing to express that notion of agency, but I feel like I am this illustration of a person who has no role in society, who was trained to be a manager of managers but has no prospects aside from a vaguely defined massive social arena, where I’m occupied but not employed, and I’m concerned with meta structures but I can’t understand the most basic societal structures (employment again), where I emerge from a lifetime of school and, not knowing what to do, continue to behave as if I’m in school.

—    Blaise Larmee (via brokenoval)

(via davidhockney)

Fiction: Boys on Bicycles by Deirdre Coyle

The boys smile at each other without kindness, half-naked, fearing for their heterosexuality. When they smack each other on the back, I sense the sting, the warmth of their still-dry skin. The bald one stands sideways, watching me peripherally. I wonder if his head will burn in the sun.

I drink my root beer and do not care.

So excited to have a piece of flash fiction on lunalunamagazine today, curated by the fab tumblingtowards.



My girl Ruby asked me to do this blog tour about writing process and I said yes because no one can refuse her.

1. What are you working on?
Lately I’ve been working really hard on procrastinating getting a job, mainly by doing a lot of weird things for money, including my most recent scheme…

Genius: “like a lot of people who’ve burned through versions of themselves at the same rate as Margot Tenenbaum’s boyfriend montage, I’m kind of a late bloomer.”