“Justin Sirois has some really important things to say, and we need to listen. The Last Book of Baghdad is raw, riveting and revealing. Sirois is a master storyteller with the rare ability to highlight the perspectives of both the oppressed and oppressors. I guarantee that soldiers, policy makers and people who love literature alike will benefit, appreciate and learn from The Last Book of Baghdad.”
–D Watkins, author of The Beast Side and The Cook Up
“Sara June Woods poems turn love letters into investigations. By treating her subjects with sincere admiration and wonder, she seeks out answers within a transitory world that may never answer: handholding becomes a flood, a burning field becomes a home, a girl stuck on a ferris wheel becomes a thing for birds to fly through. Careful Mountain regards the slivers of the world as not only parts of a whole, but the whole thing itself.”
–Chelsea Hodson, author of Pity the Animal
“And what is the measure of self inside grief? Jordan Okumura’s novel Gaijin is a body song. By weaving stories of loss and myth, Okumura brings an identity to life, half real, half imagined. I was mesmerized from start to finish.”
—Lidia Yuknavitch, author of Small Backs of Children
“Remember to Never Get Better is Harmony Korine’s Spring Breakers but on the page, written by an Emily Dickinson if she had been locked out of her house for her whole life instead of locking herself inside of it. I am in love, and I am finally starting to say the word poetry again.”
–Giancarlo DiTrapano, editor of Tyrant Books
“Equal parts vulnerable, logical, affirming, and schematic, In a Dream, I Dance by Myself, and I Collapse is a frothing workbook with ‘Floating fractals everywhere.’ Like a vending machine stocked with formal innovation, fabulist imagery, and rigorous self-examination, Zaikowski drops goodies all the way through. This is a must for anyone invested in how a self processes the world–and how the world processes a self.”
—Amy King, author of The Missing Museum, I Want to Make You Safe, and others
“Andrew Miller’s If Only the Names Were Changed is the immensity of self turned into sharp, dangerous literature. The world/mirror inside the author has been dissected and is being offered for consumption, but not without a warning: this is brutal, sad writing that’s been touched by death, drugs, booze, heartache, and enough uncertainty and self doubt to make it as venomous as it is necessary, powerful, and true.”
–Gabino Iglesias, author of Zero Saints