Said Not Said (Review Series)

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Each month I review a new book for ImageUpdate, which is put out by the fabulous people at IMAGE Journal. Here’s the latest.

Poems of Violence and Mercy
Said Not Said: Poems by Fred Marchant

“Imagine a fishbone lodged in your throat. / Imagine it kicks and squirms. / You cough, you hack, you try to heave it out…” writes poet Fred Marchant in his new collection Said Not Said. “[Y]ou try as you may to discern meaning / in the situation. You feel the bone stirring again.” Maybe every good book has a fishbone lodged in its throat. In this one, it might well be violence itself.

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You Again? (or: AWP Serendipity: It’s a Thing)

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Major Jackson speaking at the fantastic Folger Shakespeare Library panel on Keats and Countee Cullen.

Given the legions (10,000? 15,000?) who attend the annual AWP conference (Association of Writers & Writing Programs), it should feel like a faceless sea.

So how is it that, for every hour I spend there, I run into somebody I know? I’m not even especially well connected. I’m a very wee creature in the AWP zoo.

I think it’s just the AWP Serendipity Thing.

Consider this quote from Julia Fierro, on today’s panel “Second Time Around: On the Sophomore Novel”:

“I had to give up all hope of publication to write that first book [Cutting Teeth] in a pure way. I had a certain level of honesty. I enjoyed writing it.”

—Julia Fierro

This way-of-being that Fierro describes seems to me not only a good way to write, but a good way to approach AWP. I think many writers feel a kind of anxious urgency to Hurry Up and Network! here. And I understand that. It’s a huge conference, it costs money, and it’s brief. So you pick up on a lot of anxiety, observing people going booth-to-booth in the book fair or approaching Big Name Writers after panels.

That Hurry Up and Network! approach just feels to me like 1) a lot of pressure, 2) not fun, and 3) a surefire way to miss real, warm, human interactions….

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Jen Hinst-White

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B  E  A  T  I  F  I  C  &
C  O  M  R  A  D  E  L  Y

• H  E  L  L  O  S •

If we’re already friends, here’s the newest news:

  • Consequence Magazine will publish my long essay on nuclear weapons, “15 Eggs,” in their 2018 “Women Write About War” issue.
  • And I just delivered a talk about images of God as a Mother (and how to find shalom when something is painfully missing) at True North Community Church. (Want to check out the video? Go here and skip 19 minutes in.)

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And if we’re not yet acquainted: Hello! I’m Jen. I write. I speak. I like to be alive. I’ve written a novel about tattooing with spunky illustrations (and I’m looking for a great agent or indie press to bring it into the world). I write essays and stories; I review books for Image Journal (and elsewhere); occasionally I make a little music or deliver an unconventional sermon for those (like me) who waffle between the skeptics and the mystics. Should we talk? Connect on Twitter? Instagram?

Cheers & love, Jen Hinst-White

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Social History: Poems (Review Series)

Each month I review a new book for ImageUpdate, which is put out by the fabulous people at IMAGE Journal. Here’s the latest.

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Making Meaning from the Past
Social History: Poems by Bobby C. Rogers

“We were there to visit the ruins, the shabby places my father had lived during the Depression,” writes Bobby C. Rogers in the title poem of his collection, Social History. The speaker is six at the time of the visit. Only later in life does it seem odd: his father, a sharecropper’s son, fondly talking with the landlord of the farm where his family spent years “tenanting and deeply in debt.” Did his father aim “to gild the past with a shine like the sweet glaze on a fruit pie fresh from the fryer grease”?

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to my Christian brothers & sisters saying “get over it and give Trump a chance.”

IMG_1097 (1)First of all—hi. Warmly. Because that’s how you’ve always greeted me—with love. Remember me? I’m Jen. You were a big brother or sister to me about a decade ago when I warily stepped into church—intrigued by Christ, frightened of Christians—and you shocked me with how kind you were and how closely you listened.

That one night—when we stood next to each other in church singing he loves us, oh how he loves us, he loves us all, and it felt like the very air was swimming with that love—I still experience a kind of residual wonder when I think of that.

Those weeks on end when we got together in our friend’s living room, lounging around eating too many cookies and Kahlua brownies and delving into the book of James—you were so honest about your own faults. You modeled humility for me.

Together we organized Thanksgiving dinner for that shelter, and you made five pounds of mashed potatoes. When I was pregnant, you put your hand on my belly and prayed for me. When I preached my first sermon, your hugs were fierce and your joy was real.

It’s been hard for me to read some of the things you’ve been posting on Facebook as we approached Inauguration Day.

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A Horse with Holes in It (Review Series)

Each month I review a new book for ImageUpdate. Here’s the latest.

horse_browndervillePoetry of Visions
A Horse with Holes in It
by Greg Alan Brownderville

Biblical visions, for all their bewildering oddity—Ezekiel’s wheels, Isaiah’s live coal to the lips—can carry a realer-than-real-life quality. A cover tears away; everything sharpens. If you’re drawn to that cocktail of wonder and fear, read Greg Alan Brownderville’s newest poetry collection A Horse with Holes in It, in which every poem summons a jolted-to-attention quality. Find here a man building an altar of aquariums for a “spirit wife” named Easy Lee; the sacrifice of 5,000 red-wing blackbirds; a “black-and-gold sweater” that “gave me the power of bumble flight;” an experimental art project involving body shots off a mannequin Eurydice. Pieces of Brownderville’s childhood world—Arkansas earth, Pentecostal church—burn like flecks of red pepper through these poems, but so too do allusions to Georges Braque, Parthenon statues, and the goddess Isis. The poet wanders this tense psychic ground between rural South and “Midtown Lounge, the poets’ pub.”

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