I love poetry, literature and non-fiction. Every summer I go on a diet of short stories. I like the literary, the mainstream, the experimental and the un-categorical. I'm not big on the incomprehensible, but I like the mysterious. I like history, and long ago in another lifetime, I studied Chinese. I'm from NJ but have lived more than half my life outside the US.
As I get older I'm only interested in reading books that are wonderful and otherwise remarkable.
In poetry and otherwhere, the lower-case i/I doesn't bother me a bit.
I used to trust the Booker more than the Pulitzer, now I don't know. I only trust it from the outset if Fitzcarraldo published it.
Regarding my shelves, I won't be listing all the instruction manuals, young adult and children's books I've read unless there's something really important I want to say about them. Which I don't, mostly.
If you want to be-friend me, that's nice, but please do it for a reason other than upping your numbers or trying to sell me your book over & over! That's ridiculous. I wouldn't do that to you, though you should read my book.
A very nice collection of short poems about the simple things in life. What really impressed me were the quick turn of phrases that, upon first read may seem simple, but really stand out once read again.
I'd like to thank the author for sending me a copy to enjoy.
Much as I love poetry, it's not often that I refer to a book of poetry as fun. I do so in this case because of Sloat's brand of humor and surrealism in which everyday objects acquire lives and character. In "Homebodies" it was mundane things around the home. In "Inksuite" it's fonts. Here's an example:
Typeface #68
Of all the typefaces in the Dardont family, Dardont Modern appears most insecure.
The downstroke sags; its thin bones visually shiver against the vast white.
Between the lines lie ghostly questions:
Is my aim true? Can I fill the void?
When will I build my exquisite city? [In the italics above the second lines were inset in a way that goodreads doesn't allow us to reproduce.]
Part of what's amusing here is the psychological and philosophical tone, that elevated tone used with things we would never consider worthy of it.
However, all of the poems aren't light. Some are quite desolate, as in "Liaoning Journal," which contains the killer pair of lines "Look up, it's raining/from one darkness into another."
Another source of delight in Sarah's poetry is the alliteration that is not insistent but makes strong appearances, such as in the first two lines of "Flip-Book Ghazal":
My last chance at happiness stops taking my calls. Wise once, then crazy. I let roulette decide which dedication to dial in.
While she certainly has many plain-spoken passages in her poetry, she also has moments in which she reminds me of the range and play of language (and I find I need reminding and am grateful). Here are the first two stanzas of "Used Books."
"I like them dog-eared and lawnsoft, and savor the character of winestain and thumbsmudge,
the tear-warp between pages, scrawl lolling down margins
She has created a poem about savoring with its own savory diction.
In case you haven't deduced from what I've quoted, this chapbook, with 20 pages of poetry, focuses on books, reading, authors and their accoutrements (such as fonts). I'll be keeping it alongside "Homebodies."
From Escape into Life: "Inksuite is a wonderfully smart and funny chapbook of poems focused on font and other particulars related to printing and ink."