I’ve always, always, always wanted to see Vermont in the Fall, so I’m hugely excited to be a part in the Brattleboro Literary Festival this weekend with Sarah Rose Etter, Randall Brown, Steve Almond and Jacob White. Here’s more info in case you find yourself in Brattleboro this weekend: Flashing Lights
“Submit your best prose manuscript. We’re looking for novels, novellas, memoirs, lyric essays, lyric novels, short story collections, flash fiction or prose poetry collections, and hybrid manuscripts that include prose writing. The deadline to enter is 11:59 PM EST, June 30, 2012.” The Lit Pub is a great new indie publisher that produces beautiful books.
The lovely and smart Gay Degani asks me some fascinating questions at Flash Fiction Chronicles: Gay Degani: Your stories are clear-eyed and lyrical with characters that provoke curiosity and concern. It’s easy to make a connection to them, their humanity, their strength, and their frailty. But there’s something else, something I find most intriguing about
It was like the time we broke icicles dripping from the low eaves and brandished them like swords, slashing and sparkling, and you cut my cheek and dropped your weapon. Or the time we got up early and hiked until we came to a cliff and looked down into the valley covered in dew and
One of my favorite short story collections that I’ve read recently is “This Is Not Your City” by Caitlin Horrocks. I recommended it for The Lit Pub. Horrocks is a writer to study. I’m particularly taken with her openings. Every story in the collection opens strongly. Here, for example is the opening of “Going to
This is one of my all-time favorite stories. It’s beautiful, honest, harrowing. These are the last few sentences, which I have memorized: The leaves on the apple trees are all turning blue. The sunflowers in the garden are quivering, heads bowed–empty of seed now. And the heart gets watered and recovers itself. There is hope,
Asked to write something for David Abrams’ fantastic lit blog, The Quivering Pen, for Short Story Month (or week, for the blog), I wrote about my first introduction to contemporary short fiction, Best American Stories 1998: I still have it. I’ve reread it countless times. Its front cover has fallen off and there’s writing in
Joy Williams Oh man. I’ve finally gotten around to reading a novel by Joy Williams. I’ve read her short story collections and reread them. She just floors me. But now I’m reading The Quick and The Dead. Oh it’s an odd novel. I’m not getting “caught up in the plot”. You never do with Joy
Literature is always written by outsiders… by a person inclined not towards connecting with those around him or her but retreating into a world of nerdily private dream… To write is to fail, more or less, constantly. ~ Tom Bissel, in his book, Magic Hours
I’m making some progress on my initial set of ten books to read. I listed ten so that I would not be so overwhelmed. I have strayed from this list since I made it, reading Sweet Talk by Stephanie Vaughn (it’s fantastic, I love her writing) and rereading Pride and Prejudice. When I finish these