The Size of Texas
The Size of Texas, a chapbook from Penrose Press
The Length of Days
For more information, see Novel
Ancient Miraculous Cure-All, a novel manuscript
Invasives, a short story collection manuscript
Cambridge Short Story Prize Anthology, forthcoming
A Mosaic in the Making
Prism, May 2019
"Home goods are built to last and last, but plates can be had for a dollar a dozen. At the store, you’ll see women buying cheap plates by the cartful."
All You Wanted Was the Ocean
Atticus Review, April 2019
"We’re at the lake and all you want to talk about is sharks."
Forever On the Hips
Firewords, April 2019
"Fisk watched Inga with wide-open eyes, but he, unlike her mother, wasn’t staring at her hips (too wide), her breasts (too early), or her stomach (big already, have some self-respect). So she loved that fish."
Mental Papercuts, April 2019
"Gone—but not like others, gone to God in mud and gas, left forever on the front."
SmokeLong, March 2019
"JUST MARRIED, tin cans tug loose as we flee the kudzu quarter of this country—home, mine—and head back to roots, yours. Farm boy, big sky. I know so little of Iowa, and so little of you."
CHEAP POP, March 2019
"Teacher tells us in the event of a nuclear attack, we have to fight our natural urge to run to windows and watch. We’re like that, curious."
Spelk, February 2019
"I never tell my mom about the boys. I never tell her I was one of them."
This Animal's Return
Waxwing, February 2019
"Last night, after the officer said to stop calling, I took that gallon of ice cream you left — your favorite, maple walnut — and ate a solid third."
Cease, Cows, February 2019
"This year, the beach is gone. I don’t know how else to put it. Waves break into a hole; the ocean disappears within it."
The Mightiest Mammal, Singing
Pidgeonholes, January 2019
"There’s a whale in your stomach, rolling and calling in the deep-blue hours of velvet-dark morning as I press my heartbeat to your back."
Matchbook, November 2018
Nominated for Best Microfiction
"We are the women who borrow our ladies’ periodicals, who listen when they gather their sewing circles, when one woman in the group reads aloud from a book of poems footnoted with facts that we, good women—like our ladies, the housekeeper next door, the cook down the lane—shouldn’t know and shouldn’t discuss."
How It Starts
Ellipsis Zine, October 2018
"He has his collections—always has. Vintage Pez dispensers, magazines hidden under his mattress, notes passed between girls in class."
The Fire She Feels
FlashBack Fiction, October 2018
"Mama always knew there was something about that lightning, even before that old rascal Franklin tied a key to a kite."
When I Was a Fish
Longleaf Review, June 2018
"We decide to dig, to go looking for caskets needing oaks and willows to turn them to dust."
American Standard of Perfection
The Puritan, Fall 2017
"When Jack built that first hutch, Laurie didn’t stop him. But soon, Jack’s hobby meant that Laurie often woke to find a chicken or two or even three lying beside her on the pillow. Once, she turned on the faucet and unwittingly drenched a hen who’d fallen asleep in the tub."
Midwestern Gothic blog, Summer 2017
"Her mother would worry, waking up before dawn in an empty house. But sixty percent water, that’s what she was; that’s what her mother had told her, and she’d awakened to high tide beneath her skin."
Blues Too Bright
The Fiddlehead, Spring 2017
"I’m accustomed to these early-morning bird reports. Mother watches birds like her friends watch soaps and baseball."
Smoke in the Hive
Halo Lit Mag, February 2017
"But you’re not a bee. There’s no secret map you’ve drawn out for me in the patterns on the floor."
Land Mammals and Sea Creatures by Jen Neale
Humber Literary Review, January 2019
"These layered stories and the central metaphors of animal suicide give spiralling momentum to Marty’s suicidal thoughts—so, too, do the pervasive images of decay."
The Master Butchers Singing Club
The Puritan - The Town Crier, October 2018
"This fall, I will slip back into these well-worn pages like a child falling into a pile of raked leaves—a joy, a comfort, a shiver of wind, a shudder when a centipede crawls across your ankle."
Meditations on Motherhood
Thresholds, May 2018
"You wouldn’t expect an octopus to break your heart, but that’s because you don’t know octopus mothers."
Your Own Two Hands
Stonecrop Review, April 2019
"Raccoons have five fingers. Watch them open a green compost bin—a new one, designed to be raccoonproof. You’ll swear you’re watching your own two hands turn the nob counter-clockwise."
Phoebe, May 2018
Nominated for the Pushcart Prize
"I will trust my memory in this - how my foot (eight or nine years old, calloused from a barefoot summer) accommodated the thin, silver nail; how the skin encircling the small post, rimmed in pink, stretched around it like a mouth, puckered, as I pulled the metal from my flesh."
The Sun, February 2017
"Within the first ten minutes of the hike, the weight of my brand-new backpack was digging into my shoulders."
Reclaim: An Anthology of Women's Poetry, May 2019
"Ovaries hard like clementines we didn’t eat,
shriveled, wombs like sacks of shattered ceramic"
Juniper, October 2018
"Take a fence and bite it. When your teeth sink in,
scrape wood fibers (a healthy chunk) into your mouth"
Of Magic & Moses
Pithead Chapel, September 2018
"True, I saw him standing in the street, facing the traffic, lifting his hands & when he did, I thought of magic & Moses"
Smoke & Mirrors: An Interview with Kate Finegan
By Joel Coltharp for SmokeLong, March 2019
"I think that in relationships, we are often reluctant to look the major ideological conflicts in the face—they’re too big, too overwhelming. So we focus on little things, like different approaches to maintaining the yard, and those little things stand in for the big things."
Mini-Interview with Kate Finegan
By Tommy Dean Writer, November 2018
"It’s an exercise in choosing the most precise details and chipping away at the draft until it has no jagged edges."
Longleaf News: Welcome to the New Editors
Longleaf Review, October 2018
"That’s what I want—a strong narrative voice and a story that has to be told."
Backstory: Five Questions with Kate Finegan
FlashBack Fiction, October 2018
"I was in Charleston when I wrote the piece, rewriting and doing research for my novel, which deals with midwifery and women’s knowledge of their own bodies versus the medicalization of women’s health (and health in general)."
An Interview with Kate Finegan
The Fiddlehead, April 2017
"I was interested in the stories that families pass down from generation to generation, and I wondered what it would be like to find out that the most grandiose, unlikely family legend was actually true. I wondered if, after so many years and in the face of the shocks and struggles of life, it would actually matter."