I'm currently reading Stars of the Night Commute by Ana Božičević, which is at once mysterious and revelatory.
Here's an excerpt from "Emoticon":
There was no God in my childhood, and now
I miss him, in armlessness. Could've used
a god's arms since I lost my own! But listen: it was the man
with God in his childhood who took away my arms. Now he has
mine, his own and God's&mdash what
the fuck?! God, what for is my e-mail password
your prophet's name, Isaiah?
Whyfore do I type "Isaiah,"
"Isaiah," at least 20 times a day?
Here are some leftover AWP notes I found in my day planner.
Annie Proulx - transplant
Judy Blunt memoir about ranching in Montana
nostalgia for frontier
conquering landscape, mastering the west = inherently masculine metaphors
women of the west always victims or heroines
real difference between narratives by women born in the west and narratives by women who moved here with the mythologies of reinvention, confronting the environment
children are vulnerable, yet resilient
children are not afraid to call someone a liar
children are outsiders looking in at the world of adults
children have less options, so more is at stake
"child drag" = dressing up, but never really knowing what it's like
Dan Chaon, on his sons: "From two or three, they had the hearts of little criminals."