Dana Fitz Gale’s Summer Reading List

Here’s the thing about Indiana: In the summer it gets HOT, which is sad because the air conditioner in our office is pretty wonky. Today’s high is 98 degrees. But we like to compare the heat to important people in our lives – Ryan Gosling, for instance, or as we tweeted, our subscribers – which makes it a little more bearable.

You know what also helps? Cool, well-crafted prose. With that in mind, here are three summer reading suggestions from Dana Fitz Gale, whose story “Covenants” appears in our newest issue:

Lord of Misrule by Jaimy Gordon: Suspense, deceit, horseracing: who wouldn’t want to read this book? The fact that it won a National Book Award means I can feel virtuous about it, too.

Perma Red by Debra Magpie Earling: I’ve been meaning to read this novel for quite a while. It’s set on the Flathead Indian Reservation in Montana, where I worked for several years, and I’ve heard from many sources that it’s a gorgeous, haunting book.

Stray Decorum by George Singleton: This short fiction collection won’t be released until the end of summer and I can’t wait to read it. Singleton is one of the funniest writers out there, but don’t be fooled –at the same time as his stories make you laugh, they’ll break your heart.

Traci Brimhall’s Summer Reading List

Here in the Indiana Review office, we’re always looking to read new books by fresh authors, but we’ve also got lists of books we ‘should have read by now.’ Then there’s the lists of books we want to read but haven’t had the time to get to. And then there are the books we haven’t heard of, but that other writers are excited about – which tend to be the books we pick up first.

So, because we can’t ever seem to get enough (and because summer is the perfect time to catch up), we asked a handful of our recent contributors for their summer reading lists. Chances are, we’ll read these before we finally get to The Sun Also Rises.

First up, four suggestions from Traci Brimhall, whose poems “Petition” and “Prayer to the Deaf Madonna” appear in Issue 33.2:

An Invincible Memory by João Ubaldo Ribeiro: How does someone write a national epic? If you’re João Ubaldo Ribeiro, you cover 400 years of national history through the perspective of two families – one of aristocrats and one of slaves. This book was recommended to me by a writer in Brazil, and it’s been staring at me from my shelves for months. Ribeiro combines narratives that cross class, gender and racial boundaries in his novel.

Residence on Earth by Pablo Neruda: When Neruda won the Nobel in 1971, many on the prize committee cited Residence on Earth (a trilogy) as his most important work. However, many of his other critics used these poems against him because a young man committed suicide next to the book. In an interview with The Paris Review, Neruda called it “poetry without an exit. I almost had to be reborn in order to get out of it.” I want to read this book because I, too, want to be reborn on the other side of it.

Human Landscapes from My Country by Nazim Hikmet: I’ve been reading verse novels for awhile, but I’ve been avoiding Human Landscapes. Weighing in at 463 pages, Hikmet’s epic about Turkey takes “suffering personally” according to the foreword by Mutlu Konuk. Like Ribeiro, Hikmet’s work is trying to encompass a country and its history while remaining profoundly intimate and human (or so the book jacket promises me).

The Book of Disquiet by Fernando Pessoa: This will not be my first Portuguese rodeo. I’ve taken a few running starts at this book before but have found it hard to read in short sittings. It’s a book that seems to offer more rewards the longer you can stay in it. Pessoa’s mind is one of the most intriguing I’ve ever experienced through language. “Renunciation is liberation,” he says. “Not wanting is power,” he wants me to believe. “Travel is for those who cannot feel.” Oh, Fernando, how else would I have found you?

The Larkin’s, the Robbins, and Me

The trees are coming into leaf

Like something almost being said

So wrote Philip Larkin, in seemingly his sunniest moment. Here in Bloomington, however, the trees have exploded into electric green like expletives shouted from the courthouse dome. And here at Indiana Review, even more seasonal shake-ups are underway.

Last year is dead, they seem to say

Jennifer Luebbers has assumed the throne of senior editor, as the esteemed Deborah Kim moves on to greener pastures. But never fear, we couldn’t let the woman responsible for IR achievements like this gorgeous website go too far: Ms. Kim remains a consulting editor. (I can hear her applauding my mixed metaphors from here.)

Begin afresh, afresh, afresh

It’s true, Phil, you glorious grump: The 2012-13 IR editorial board might just be the a-freshest lineup to date. But more on/from my colleagues in future posts. Who exactly am I?

Some fun facts and shameless self-promotion:

  • Previously worked as a popular music critic, and now DJs at south central Indiana’s best community radio station (Wednesday mornings at wfhb.org).
  • Traveled independently on six continents (Antarctica, I’m gunning for you).
  • St. Louis Cardinals fan. That is all.

What exactly do I hope to do?

As Indiana Review‘s new Associate Editor, I seek to publish work of the highest quality that moves and risks — be it sentimentality or bad jokes (see above) — and emerges with a new and honest posture. To quote my other spirit guide, Tom Robbins, in Still Life With Woodpecker, I’m looking for:

“Something more than words…Crystals. I want to send my readers armloads of crystals, some of which are the color of orchids and peonies, some of which pick up radio signals from a secret city that is half Paris and half Coney Island.”

I look forward to reading your work and continuing Indiana Review‘s long tradition of excellence.

If this typewriter can’t do it, then fuck it, it can’t be done,

Katie Moulton

1/2 K Prize Deadline Extended & Other News

Image: deviantart.com

Hey! Great news: there’s still time to enter Indiana Review‘s 2012 1/2 K Prize! Our new deadline is now Friday, June 8th. If you haven’t already done so, now if your opportunity to send us your prose poems and short-shorts and flash-fictions.  Michael Martone is our judge; the entries are read and judged blind, and the winner will receive a $1000 honorarium and publication in Indiana Review. Click here for contest guidelines.

Finally, remember that we will be closing all general submissions tonight, May 31st, at midnight (EST). Submissions will reopen on August 1st.

In the meantime, stay tuned for more blog posts, summer reading lists, and updates from past IR contributors—all coming soon!

“You Don’t Have to Take My Word for It”: IR 34.1 Hits the Shelves

Dear Readers,

I’ve never given birth, but I imagine it might be something like the production of a literary journal. After about nine months of hard work and sweating and weeping and bleeding (paper cuts can be painful), we are at last blessed with the new sleek, shiny new issue that we can hold close and cherish.

My mom will be the first to point out that it is probably nothing at all like childbirth; she will also be quick to remind me that an average human gestation period is, in reality, thirty-eight weeks ( and is often longer). She’s probably also the first one to read this post (Hi, mom!).

Perhaps the larger discrepancy, though, is the fact the birth of a journal is a completely collective effort, and could never have happened without the dedication and commitment of all our readers, interns, editorial staff, office staff, contributors, contest judge, typesetter, printer, distributor, and, of course, you, our readers!

So, however inapt the birth metaphor may be, we are very proud to announce the arrival of a beautiful ~1 lb. issue of Indiana Review, filled with fresh and exciting poems, stories, and essays.

If you are a subscriber, keep a lookout for your issue to arrive in the mail. If you are not a subscriber, but want to be, or if you would like to order a single-issue copy, you can do so here.

I could say so much more about the issue, here, but I’ll keep this short and sweet. Instead, I’ll leave you with the words of one LeVar Burton, who said it best when he said, “You don’t have to take my word for it.”

Thank you so much for supporting Indiana Review. We are truly grateful for your support. We could not exist without you!



PS We are always interested in knowing what you think. Feel free to comment  below, or send us an email at inreview@indiana.edu. We can’t wait to hear from you!