Out of Ohio: A Review of Nick Rees Gardner’s “Delinquents and Other Escape Attempts”

"Delinquents"

Nick Rees Gardner’s third book (So Marvelously Far, 2019 and Hurricane Trinity, 2023) is a linked story collection focusing on the fictional Westinghouse, Ohio. Right away, I was drawn to see Gardner’s world in connection with Sherwood Anderson’s linked stories in Winesburg, Ohio, and Gardner’s Delinquents didn’t disappoint.  As the opening pages make clear, this Rust Belt collection is about a very different America than Anderson wrote about in Winesburg. They’re trapped; they’re often addicts; they’re seeking a means to escape Westinghouse; they’re looking to find love, meaning, connection, and some shred of satisfaction.  Time passes or it doesn’t in Westinghouse, as the book points out. Too often, the characters struggle just to make it another day. 

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Does the Earth Apologize for Taking Up Space?: Poet Tracy Dimond Speaks on Her Debut Collection

Tracy Dimond

Poet Tracy Dimond’s debut collection Emotion Industry reads like an array of your funniest friend’s deepest divulgences, purged all at once in the corner booth of a bar–every word long-overdue. What comes out is the wryest examination of the outward through the inward–of pop culture through the lens of undiagnosed chronic illness, of feminine rage through a well-honed sense of humor. And vice versa. And vice versa again…

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Sunday Stories: “The Screaming Boat”

Boats

The Screaming Boat
by Alexandra Dos Santos

Screams went by like a smear in the night. They coasted the East River, that green mirror reflecting skyscrapers that looked like hanged corpses in the water. Scruff sat on the Astoria Park rocks alone, as she always was, watching the machines churn up waves. She’d sit and watch water taxis shuttle quiet shadows after dark, and booze cruise flash LED lights to a steady dance bass. But Scruff never heard a boat scream before, especially from a boat this far away. It drew closer and louder.  It wasn’t the roar of a rowdy party; their voices twisted backwards and sideways, locking together into a writhing behemoth. Scruff could almost see it before her eyes—that sound made manifest. But then it went away, and she just saw the boat. In front of her, finally clear, she recognized it. 

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