Bøger udgivet af The Lit Pub, LLC

A story of time-travel and undying love, Wyomings is a fiction that emerges from the author's real-life fieldwork as a practicing anthropologist, from a life spent studying ghost towns, remote islands, haunted highways. In the tradition of Sebald, Borges, and Calvino, the author carves a carefully fractured and reassembled memory-scape about how, after a violent rupture in time, people's ghosts arrived to erase them. Wyomings is the rough assemblage and translation of the diaries and field notes of a narrator imprisoned in the refuge of bent loops of time, chasing a vanished love through an endless series of Befores, through a multiplicity of lives as time unravels and decays. The few who remembered what it was like in the last days were left with only fragments of fragments of memories, obscured and scratched. The last remnant of the Old Era, Wyomings is the story of dozens of tiny particles, solar systems of abandoned time, epistles to lives-once-lived and sunburned fables.

Spanning nearly a decade of Kathy Fish's writing, Together We Can Bury It draws heavily on the author's Midwestern roots. Like the changing seasons, themes of childhood, siblinghood, and adult loss and betrayal are woven throughout these stories. In "Florida," we share in Emmeline's devastation when her mother makes her go to school unbathed after wetting the bed: "But how will you ever learn if you don't suffer the consequences?" In stories like "Shoebox," we witness daughters struggling against distant parents, their lives out of control; these girls "don't want to grow big and strong, they want to be left alone." As we read about and remember milestone moments from our own lives, like first kisses, first heartbreak, and first sexual encounters, so too do we recognize that familiar "smile a woman wears when she's on the verge of tears," particularly in stories like "Wake Up," "The Hollow," "Breathless," and "Foreign Film," which reveal to us the lives of women in the midst of separation, divorce, widowhood, and desperation: "I call my husband sometimes in the middle of the night. 'Are we going to be okay?' I ask, whispering. I don't want to wake him up completely." It is difficult not to think of these women as the little girl, all grown up now, from "Wild Yellow Dog, Giant Red Fox," whose grandmother gives her a Royal typewriter and asks: "Please make your next story a happy one." This is a collection that captures the feeling of embarking "on a long trip, something important and urgent, as if someone far away has died and here we are, speeding to the wake."