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It's REEL. A concern for sincerity, and a new nostalgia, that will get inside your head and keep vividly playing itself back. This riff off It's A Wonderful Life is the one-of-a- kind hope for love to rescue us that so many authors not named Jeff Jarot wish they could write and the sort of dreamy results rarely seen in reality or the world of fiction. -Ricardo Cortez Cruz, author of Straight Outta Compton and Five Days of Bleeding Heartfelt and probing, Jeff Jarot's Zuzu's Petals illuminates the difficulty of living in a digital present while still longing for a receding, but more human, past. -Curtis White, author of We, Robots; The Middle Mind; The Science Delusion; Memories of My Father Watching TV; and others Like Nicholson Baker's U and I, Jeff Jarot's Zuzu's Petals is a freewheeling and inventive personal exploration that tries to come to terms with a cultural obsession, and in the process gives us new insights into a world driven by technology, pop culture, and consumerism. By turns nostalgic and philosophical, Zuzu's Petals is a lively and fascinating meditation on who we are and why we always seem to be falling short of those cultural images that continue to shape us. -James Plath, author of Historic Photos of Ernest Hemingway and Conversations with John Updike Zuzu's Petals earns our respect by tackling difficult and uncomfortable questions through an absorbing narrative and a cast of characters about whom we care. We follow the multi-genre story not only through traditional description and dialogue, but also through exchanges of text messages, a child's school essay, photographs, drawings, and fantasy scenes rendered in the form of film scripts. In the end, Zuzu's Petals makes us, in Zuzu's words, "pay attention" in new ways.-Bob Broad, author of What We Really Value
Paul Tristram is a modern day social commentator who can weave tales about life, love and the joy of intoxication into a variety of formats that use a combination of anarchic words and working class observations to create pieces of fiction that are both unique and thoroughly unforgettable. Although Punk may have had its day, through this writer, I can see that its spirit is far from dead. -Lisa Knight, Imaginalis (London) Paul Tristram mesmerizes with humor and stark reality, causing the reader to ponder and see the world and its characters in a different light of awareness. -Stephen Jarrell Williams, Dead Snakes (USA) Paul Tristram's writing is as hard-hitting as it is gritty. There's a wealth of experience in the viscera of each piece he heaves to the table, butchered and ready for the eyes to feast upon. -E.S. Wynn, Leaves of Ink (USA) Scribblings Of A Mad Man is an exercise in creativity, combining short stories with letter writing and journal keeping with an unhealthy dose of alcohol, drugs and craziness thrown into the bong mix. Although sectioned off (like mental patients) into separate parts, there is a strange cord of common sense running through the centre of the book when viewed as a whole. It's a strange journey into the unknown at times but at the same time quite comforting in its strange familiarity. It is both hilarious and a tapestry of the absurd and always worth another gander. There is no red or blue pill here but both pills together under a keg of beer. You will never be the same after reading this, and you should be grateful for this. It views the world sideways with empathy and understanding then sucker punches you with a hundred mile an hour, de-railed locomotive of insanity further on down the page. It is part abstract novel and part unusual documentation of thought in freefall. It's the story of a man surrounded by crazy people whilst being chained to a typewriter, you can almost feel him clinging to shredding sanity with every word he punches home. It's a documentation of Bedsit outcasts cast together in an ever changing sea of alcohol and madness, living for the day and surviving through the chaos of unsettled, damaged lives. It's the under dogs not winning but causing more bizarre situations for themselves, knowingly and laughing inanely as they do it. It's low-life with a heart, criminals with compassion and landlocked Merchant Seamen still aboard ship within their frazzled minds. A twisted viewpoint of the dispossessed, a laugh and a beer with mountain sized characters, everyone of them away with the fairies completely, all comical and tragic almost at the very same time. Lastly, it's about a writer giving his talent free reign and bobsleighing wildly down his imagination, with no parachute, safety net nor fear of the fall. An experiment in literary gymnastics unlike anything that's come before.
Portraits of Uncle Sam in a gas mask, random, detailed hygiene instructions, haiku about lepers cracking their knuckles, stories of dinosaurs massacring the field trip visitors...Jake Giszczynski is all over the place, man. He rhymes "hot pockets" with "crotch rockets." His last name would get you like a million points in Scrabble.-Nick Demske, author of Nick DemskeI hate it. This book is awful.-Kerrie Giszczynski, author of Jake GiszczynskiFilthy is a journey into the dank wet recesses of an otherwise gorgeous human experience. It pokes and prods us exactly where Giszczynski thinks we need to be prodded. Filthy can be seen as an exploration of the baroque in order to engender a firmer appreciation for the often-overlooked blemishes of a post-millennial society. Featuring photography by Dominique Jackson, Filthy is a literary experience for lovers of art, expression, and all things sticky.
Detailed by a slack neologist who's waiting to die but has "apparently hired a lazy assassin," puckish academics and the plotted theft of sex parts impel the multi-layered narrative hooey of this darkly comic, metafictive love story. Jamison Lee's debut novel, To Deer at Swim, tells the story of Benny Huckman-seemingly a human magnet for animal death-as he learns to cohabitate with Wentworth, his former gender studies instructor, now an expelled scholar unlearning the difference between sincerity and sarcasm; November, his vegan girlfriend, who's recently escaped her ex's rabid Marxism and frenzied plans of sexual reassignment; and a mouse who is at the flighty center of a battle between the will to dominate and the ability to empathize. Benny is unaware, however, that his story might end as suddenly as a cat in his path if the narrator's assassin finally comes through and settles, once and for all, this little debate regarding the death of the author.
An endangered antelope discovers, "There is no need to butcher you anymore." A stuntwoman considers ending it all. Violent swans challenge stereotypes. In We're Going to Need a Higher Fence, Jennifer MacBain-Stephens again shows her ability to immerse readers in reoccurring microcosms, whether they contain people in surreal correspondence, feather and fauna, or a buzzing-mouth monster under your bed. No matter the scene, MacBain-Stephens' imbues her cast of masks with heart and wild, unexpected lyricism. -Christopher Morgan, Co-Manager of Nostrovia! Press and author of To Breathe Deep In We're Going to Need a Higher Fence, Jennifer MacBain-Stephens presents a necropastoral that is challenged by ways of seeing: "In your torso, / my eyes radiate chartreuse / My chin lavender, / My parka disintegrates into / diamond suns. Here, fragmentation is a kind of solace, an answer that keeps rendering a hopeful speaker: Let me remain unburied, unburned." While little seems safe in this landscape of oil sealed third eyes and one winged angels, language remains crisp and clear; these poems are, to a reader, such fine offerings.--Nicole Tong, author of How to Prove a Theory
Collected works, creative and critical, from the first annual David Foster Wallace Conference by Illinois State University, Department of English, Normal, Illinois in May 2014. Works by: Diego Báez Ryan M. Blanck Matt Bucher Jeffrey Calzaloia Amy L. Eggert Danielle S. Ely Christine Harkin Jeff Jarot Ashlie M. Kontos Daniel Leonard Francesco Levato Christopher Michaelson Mike Miley Shannon Minifie JoAnna Novak Robert Ryan Mark Sheridan Stephen Swain Z. Bart Thornton
IS Several forms of language - poetry, prose, dialogue, essay, opera - take shape in Is. Once we use language with imagination, the definitions/constrictions of traditional form fall away. All writing = all writing. The Chaos Theory of Literary Composition puts it this way: art is energy. To achieve chaos, which releases energy, the writer subjects the writing to heat {in the Chaos Theory of physics, that heat is literal, i.e. fire), i.e., passion, intuition, defamilarization, disruption of syntax, style, genre, spontaneity, the unreal, the unexpected, etc. etc. etc. That state of chaos reveals new form, that chaos opens fissures along which the energy travels and along which the reader engages that energy. IS, putatively the passive verb, includes in it all that is, all the energy we, as artists, bring to the work. Yet, IS, as what we call the passive verb, is a fiction. Like zero in mathematics, the "is" in our work, in the title to this book, isness, does not exist in the real world, but it functions to make everything else work. There is no object - no noun - no thing - that does nothing, that is not an action. Action = energy. Art is energy. The title IS references this nothing which is not, and this - every word - every world - every thing which is, the action inherent in being, including the heat that creates chaos that reveals new form.
In what to do with RED, Jacquelyn Shah draws upon the philosophy or words of poets and writers Franz Kafka, Herman Melville, George Orwell, Sylvia Plath and many more, exploring the plight of humanity and reflecting her chagrin at the same time she plays with a language imbued with humor, irony, and a modicum of mockery.-Sehba Sarwar, author of Black Wings, a novel of transgression and redemption.This is, simply, magnificent poetry. Jacquelyn Shah delivers to the reader an incredible range of topics, styles, and passions within a book that shows a lifetime's apprenticeship to the craft of poem-making and tuning her ear to the music and rhythm of her unique voice and vision. The range of forms offered is astonishing-from a play on the paradelle to a pair of ars poeticas to the visual rhetoric of "Snowman's Eyes" and "Knit Purl" with its deft verbal interplay. An Oulipian opus is offered, and a half sonnet plus "Preposterous Sonnets for the Letter S"-all captivating, original, and vibrating with intensity.Beneath the humor, quick wit, and clever poise with form and language, Shah's words roil with passionate intention. Lines that are playful, ("Hell's bells--there they are again!") such as those found within the surprise of "Paul's Balls" are undergirded by a focused and committed anger. "I've developed a taste for it," directly says the speaker in the poem "Anger," followed by the lines, "I don't want a cure besides, it's powerful- " Conviction and passion about issues of gender equity and the place of woman in the world, run throughout this amazing book, revealing their power. The harm done to women, the dangers in the world, the unapologetic violence men wield is framed clearly and indicted. Classic literary texts are rewritten or re-referred to include a world that includes women. In this book, red is an anger, a mood, a credo-a commitment explored with intensity throughout these gripping poems that grab hold of the reader and emblazon new meanings, new understandings, and new love for poetry.-Dr. Elline Lipkin, author of The Errant Thread, poems and Girls' Studies: Seal Studies"Shah's What to Do with Red is part exuberantly talky Jabberwocky, part mournful Mother Goose, or as she puts it, and Most of Shah's poems are giddy, garrulous and profoundly playful, so it is notable that when she turns to the subject of violence against women her poems turn minimal, nearly mute."-Matthea Harvey, author of five books of poetry, including If the Tabloidsare True What are you? and teacher of poetry at Sarah Lawrence
Reliquary of Debt takes on the familiar topics of pilgrimage and travel in order to ask new questions about the intersections of parenting, god, economics, feminism, art, and culture. Margaret Rozga, author of Justice, Freedom, Herbs, calls the collection "a tour de force of poetic innovation and fun." Kimberly Blaeser, author of Apprenticed to Justice, says that the book "invites the reader to re-see the art and artifacts of our culture. ... "from 'finger bones' and frescoes to the Harry Potter Platform 9 3/4. The book awakens an awareness of everyday 'debts' we owe for the lushness of food and persistence of memory, for stories like that of Saint Zita's miracle and the ones we create walking through our days together." Susan Firer notes the mix of "dense, inclusive, polyglot poems ... with dance-party rhythms, fresh language and imagery, imagination and facts." Sonnets, syllabics, and Skypes; story and lyric; tradition and experiment; poetry and prose; old and new forms, including a sequence of factual-fictional "Wikiprosepoems" about the appearance of pumpkin in Italy and an architectural series that imitates Giotto's Arena Chapel all figure in this collection, an extended meditation on worship and want. What do we abandon, leave behind, relinquish, and forsake as we journey with fellow travelers in mixed sympathy and antipathy? How do we keep moving forward and at what cost? What do we notice and what do we ignore? How many museums and churches does one family need to see? Who decides, and does it matter? -Wendy Vardaman travels with a keen eye for off-beat and evocative details of history, art, culture, and her own family relationships. These she savors and preserves for us in Reliquary of Debt, a tour de force of poetic innovation and fun-Margaret Rozga, author of Justice Freedom Herbs, Though I Haven't Been to Baghdad and 200 Nights and One Day -A poetic pilgrimage, Wendy Vardaman's Reliquary of Debt invites the reader to re-see the art and artifacts of our culture. Through the lens of these gentle, smart, and witty poems, the distance that the notion of "relic" usually conjures falls away, replaced by a vital experience that has the reader's own "worship-wanting eyes" newly fixed on everything from "finger bones" and frescoes to the Harry Potter Platform 9 3/4. The book awakens an awareness of everyday "debts" we owe for the lushness of food and persistence of memory, for stories like that of Saint Zita's miracle and the ones we create walking through our days together. This is the poetry of ancient cities, of museums and cathedrals, but it is also the poetry of family, of sacred journey taken together with the sun warm on our backs-Kimberly Blaeser, author of Apprenticed to Justice -Wendy Vardaman serves up dense, inclusive, olyglot poems of pilgrimage, travel, family, history, art, imagination, relationships and more. With dance-party rhythms, fresh language and imagery, imagination and facts, Vardaman continues in the American line of making traditions: Skype poems, giottos, Wikiprosepoems, Wikilistprosepoems, American sonnets, Abecedarians and scholarly-lyric-hybrids. Read the powerful "Tortelli di Zucca Mantovani," the second poem in the collection, and you won't be able to put the book down. You'll also be craving the title dish. No worry: Vardaman includes a recipe for the famous dish. Not a cook? Trader Joe's is mentioned several times as a source for imported Tortelli di Zucca. However, poems like Vardaman's you'll find no where else but in her surprising, adventuresome collection Reliquary of Debt-Susan Firer, author of Milwaukee Does Strange Things to People: New & Selected Poems 1979-2007
Joani Reese is a poetry blues angel. Think of Bonnie Raitt with steel strings. Think of an embodied muse who confronts danger and loss with heart, with the kind of music that makes us forget misery for the space of art. In Night Chorus, our poet wails artfully in a disciplined and courageous manner that repairs our sense of loss. When we ask ourselves who are the living poets with vision large enough to sing not just the self but the fragile planet, and especially the most vulnerable women upon it--we look to Joy Harjo, Brenda Hillman, Pamela Uschuk, Fady Joudah, Marilyn Hacker, and now, to Joani Reese. --Marilyn Kallet, Director, Creative Writing Program, University of Tennessee, author of sixteen books, including The Love That Moves Me Joani Reese's Night Chorus is a symphony of "ferocious love" and longing "tied with gut." This powerful mélange of poems is wide-ranging in form and subject matter, imagery and sound, "a vibrating string (that) snaps to startle the ear" and the heart. I am taken with the courageous voice of this poet as she "teeters, naked on the cliff edge, wild sky black. Arms spread, she dives through the terrible rain." And, I follow her, as charmed by her sexy blues rhythms as I am by her keenings of grief as I am by the maturity of her craft. This is one book of deep songs that you will need to buy for all of your friends.--Pamela Uschuk, author Crazy Love, American Book Award, and Blood Flower What I love about Joani Reese's first full collection, Night Chorus, is how well it moves and weaves through all spaces and contains fearless characters and language. Reese writes like she's lit a typewriter on fire and only the truth will put it out. The poems in Night Chorus make me understand again why I feel so drawn to modern poetry. I thank Joani for writing this great book and for letting me read and savor it early. I appreciate the hell out of that.-Bud Smith, author of the poetry collection Everything Neon and the novels Tollbooth & F250 Night Chorus thrums through "fist-broken air," swells with rich orchestral colors, permeates and transmutes atoms like listening to Rachmaninoff 's Piano Concerto #3. Reese weaves words that make homes in our mouths, lives, secrets. This collection will swallow you whole and stun you with its bold intimacy. "Below the skull of sky, blood leaves its tail." Unforgettable and mesmerizing! Night Chorus is necessary and provokes heightened awareness of our existence. -Meg Tuite, author of Bound By Blue
Poetry painted on a bomb falling out of a plane. BLASPHEMER doesn't fuck around. Yarrow is wonderfully possessed.-Bud Smith, F-250 Enthusiasm like percolating lava courses through these poems, scraping away all that is dull and obvious. These poems are not so much narratives or experiments in form, but explorations, and not just explorations even, but celebrations of poetic conceits turned inside out so that only the star-crawling blood of the imagination remains.-John Goode, Graduating from Eternity With inquiries into both faith and love, Bill Yarrow's BLASPHEMER provides the irreverent gaze you were looking for in subversive poetics. The hot blush, too.-Heather Fowler, Bare Bulbs Swinging
-This bomb-ass, brilliant book is, without question, as serious as a heart attack. The storyworld of REAL survival: Amy Eggert is the only person I know brave enough, badd enuff, to go there. Aiming to challenge-and more than likely, shatter-widespread myth and that which has been cataclysmic in our society like no other fiction I've read, Scattershot is the true language of trauma. It never stops talking to you, getting into your head in ways that you'll never forget. Far-reaching, Scattershot will utterly blow you away. It's that good-Ricardo Cortez Cruz, author of Straight Outta Compton and Five Days of Bleeding -Written with a compressed precision, the short stories and prose poems that make up Scattershot are like the random yet deadly pattern produced by a haphazardly fired shotgun: painful, contingent, indelible. Equally poised between quiet empathy and unflinching candor, these are snapshots of everyday life in a neoliberal America that has given up on its social contract and the promise of the better life. What remains is a haunted landscape of broken dreams, broken bodies, and broken minds. Amy Eggert is a poet of our diminished world, and Scattershot is necessary reading- Christopher Breu, author of Insistence of the Material: Literature in the Age of Biopolitics and Hard-Boiled Masculinities -Amy Eggert's Scattershot must be what Cathy Caruth meant by "the story of a wound that cries out." Only here are many wounds growing mouths, yearning to be heard-the grandfather in the assisted living facility crying "this isn't home," the four year old son flashing back to his father's hallway suicide, a woman who pines for ghost babies lost in trees. These stories, in their unflinching exquisiteness, are a live nerve twitching, the body at its limits demanding witness. Eggert's debut collection is the body almost choking on its own vulnerable song-- Sara Henning, author of A Sweeter Water
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