Annilee Newton

writer and writing teacher

Annilee Newton is a writer and professor based in Austin, Texas. Currently teaching composition and working on a novel about a college student who masquerades as her male classmate to work on an archeological dig in 1950 Greece.

Annilee Newton is a writer and composition professor based in Austin, Texas. She earned her MFA in Creative Writing from Lesley University and teaches at Austin Community College. Her novel in progress, Thessalonika, is a work of historical fiction set in 1950s Greece. Her creative nonfiction has appeared in Sierra Nevada Review, The Dirty Spoon, and Family Stories from the Attic.

Published Work

Vertigo in Blue

A review of Mariette Navarro’s Ultramarine for Asymptote Journal

“An eerily beautiful portal into the submerged depth of our own interior worlds.”

Anger as Purpose

A review of Caroline Laurent’s An Impossible Return for Asymptote Journal.

“Throughout the novel, one word comes and goes like a pulsing vein: sagren. It is defined as the Kreol word for sorrow, while simultaneously qualified as something ‘so much worse than plain old sorrow.’”

Wine Tasting

Stories from working in an upscale wine bar for the podcast PenDust Radio.

“Here’s what you do. Go to the produce section of a fancy grocery store. Smell every single piece of produce they have. Pick up the currants, smell the currants, and say the word to yourself—currant.”

Oranges

Threaded memories about learning how to taste and experience life for Sierra Nevada Review.

“One, two, three, four, five. My hands…Framing the full moon between my fingertips. Pulling my body through the living waters of the sea. Peeling an orange.”

Coming Apart

Those times I tried to keep hollandaise sauce and my relationships from separating for the podcast Dirty Spoon.

“Here I am, with another boy that I love, making him eggs benedict again.”

Leet

Making sense of my roots on my dead grandfather’s Kentucky farm for the anthology Family Stories from the Attic.

“‘You’ll be wanting to go to that graveyard. Leet and l would walk through this cemetery most days, if it wasn’t too muddy.’”