Unstuck #2

[Unstuck‘s first issue, which came out last November, was big: 352 lavishly illustrated pages, and incredible fun to read (stories from Joe Meno, J. Robert Lennon, Matt Derby, Aimee Bender, Rachel B. Glaser, Amelia Gray, Lindsay Hunter, Meghan McCarron, Matthew Vollmer, and many more). With some help, their second issue is going to be even bigger (disclosure: it will feature one of the longest stories in Critique of Pure Reason), “over 500 pages.” They’d like your help with that, and I think you should help them. Here’s a link to their just-launched Kickstarter. All of the money will go to printing, distribution, and paying their contributors.] Continue reading

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Looking Back, Part 4: Books

Best Novel:

Honorable Mentions:

Best Story Collection (Tie):


Best Nonfiction:

Best Poetry Collection (Tie):

Racing Hummingbirds by Jeanann Verlee

If There Is Something To Desire by Vera Pavlova


Best Chapbook:

Don't Go Fish by Kat Dixon

 

And that, folks, is my look back at 2010. I’m planning some fun stuff for 2011 and am looking forward to getting back into the swing of Big Other-ing.

Down With Lindsay Hunter

Lindsay Hunter’s debut collection, Daddy’s will kick you right in the nads. It’s unrelenting, unabashed set of stories will surprise you, make you laugh, and most importantly make you want to read it over and over. One of the best story collections I’ve read in a while (right up there with Paula Bomer’s Baby, Mary Miller’s Big World, and Bonnie Jo Campbell’s American Salvage), it was a pleasure to get a chance to ask Lindsay a few questions about the book.

 

RWB: Though I love all the stories in Daddy’s I think my favorite (and who knows what this says about me) is “The Fence.” And it’s one of those stories that just smacks of a great story behind the story, so what was the impetus for this particular piece?

LH: If I remember correctly I wanted to write about a dog, and then it got all turded up from there. The dog’s in there though, Marky, so I guess that is a success. That was maybe the first time I’d stopped stopping myself while writing and just let it all hang out. Then I remember I read part of it in my Art of Place class at SAIC and I was positively delighted and so was Mary Cross, my professor, she was making these joyful murder chortles, and then I looked around at my fellow workshoppers, some of whom were wearing mottled fartfaces, and I stopped. I submitted it to Nerve and they accepted it a day later.

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