In our morning reading: thoughts on books by Andrés Neuman and George Saunders, an interview with Alice Kaltman, and more.
Vol. 1 Brooklyn’s November 2022 Book Preview
Welcome to the heart of autumn. This November, if you’re looking for a new book to read you’ll be able to choose from a stylistically vast array of literary works. Hoping for an engaging psychological thriller or a great writer’s unorthodox exploration of a great musician? This month, both have gotten our attention — along with incisive literary commentary, a novel told entirely in verse, and a high-profile zine anthology.
Afternoon Bites: Anthony Veasna So Nonfiction, Ben Ehrenreich on Books, Luc Sante Interviewed, and More
In our afternoon reading: nonfiction by Anthony Veasna So, a review of Matt Bell’s new novel, and more.
Morning Bites: Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Premee Mohamed Interviewed, Alice Kaltman, Revisiting “The Phantom Tollbooth,” and More
In our morning reading: an interview with Silvia Moreno-Garcia, thoughts on Alice Kaltman’s new novel, and more.
Suburban Fiction and Sharing Words: Alice Kaltman On Writing “Dawg Towne”
Dawg Towne, Alice Kaltman‘s latest and most multidimensional book to date, centers around a series of mysterious canine disappearances in no-name east coast suburbia. Told through the eyes of various eccentric townspeople, all of whom are searching not only for their dogs, but for some inner truth, it’s like The Affair meets American Beauty with a hefty helping of kibble, and all the signature Kaltman heart and humor
Sunday Stories: “Cape Cod Grandpa 1968”
Cape Cod Grandpa 1968
by Alice Kaltman
He can be Grandpa. I need a grandpa.
A horseshoe crab that has seen things, done things. Still living a long horseshoe crabby life. Ginormous. Crusty with barnacles and tiny mussels. Experienced. I already have a whole slew of his dead relatives lined up in size order outside the crappy shack my human family has rented for two weeks. Mother Crab, Father Crab, Big Kid Crab, Middle Kid Crab, Little Kid Crab. My Horseshoe Crab Family. They smell like rancid salted putrid dry cracked brittleness, but my human parents support my ten year old imagination, or maybe they’re just fed up with me, their dreamy son, so they let the mini-monsters lay there, baking in the sun on the splintery deck, stinking up our beach vacation.
Morning Bites: Renee Gladman Revisited, Daniel Torday Fiction, Igiaba Scego Interviewed, and More
In our morning reading: exploring Renee Gladman’s work, new writing by Daniel Torday and Alice Kaltman, and more,
Morning Bites: Diane di Prima Remembered, Tea Hacic-Vlahovic, Gina Apostol Interviewed, Lysley Tenorio, and More
In our morning reading: remembering Diane di Prima, talking books with Gina Apostol, and more.