There is no conversation on literary regionalism without Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha. The Mississippi-born author’s loyalty to his imagined landscape is perhaps what he is most known for.
The fight between digital and printed books is less a real rivalry and more of a taunting between siblings. Independent publishing houses like Letra Muerta in Venezuela create beautiful books that satisfy tactile desires but pay equally detailed attention in publishing interesting content regardless the format.
The way we most often talk about it desire is an aspect of character. Which is all fine, really, until we slam into those desires so bullish in their insistency that no longer can we play like we own them.
Every word carries with it a connotative meaning, a definition that stretches beyond what can be found in the dictionary. Edwin Madu uses this notion to his advantage in his short story “Missing Things” published by Okey-Panky in July of this year.
William Blake possessed an erratic imagination that serves as a fascinating example of how a literary artist can forges new modes of expression in order to stand before the shifting reality in which they live.
Derrick Austin’s Trouble the Water (BOA Editions, 2016) turns flooded ruins into relics devoted to floods, both physical and emotional. His debut collection of formally-driven, hermetic verse shapes physical and emotional overflows into precise devastation.
SZA’s debut studio album, Ctrl, impresses fans with her lyrical honesty. In a lengthy and confessional letter to Drew Barrymore, SZA wrote how Drew’s movies Poison Ivy and Never Been Kissed shaped her and eased her anxiety “about being awkward and having crooked teeth.”
On September 28, 1972, Bambara publishes her first collection of short stories, Gorilla, My Love, chronicling the lives and perspectives of African American characters in both urban and rural settings. A New York Times reviewer praises the stories in the debut collection as “tough, violent, funny, and frantically relevant.”
Bret Anthony Johnston’s “Boy” is very much an homage as well as a companion piece to Jamaica Kincaid’s “Girl.” The ways in which Johnston chose to mirror Kincaid’s piece show us the gender, class, and race equivalencies. Both Kincaid and Johnston are most interested in gender and the lessons
Laguna Libros started as a small publisher of art books and has become a well-established press that has made a strong impact in the international publishing scene by remaining nimble, smart, and curious.