|
|

|
| 
|

|

|
New Releases
Harvest and Other Plays

|
The Collected Works of Pat Lowther

|
Crisp

|
Aphelion

|
The Darkening Archipelago

|
Smoked: A Detective Lane Mystery

|
|
|
Keepin' It ReLit |
|
|
|
The Globe & Mail calls the ReLit Awards "the country's pre-eminent literary prize recognizing independent presses." Which made all of us at NeWest Press even more pleased to look over the 2010 ReLit longlist and see two of its titles are in contention. The award doesn't come with any money, but something cooler than money: the "ReLit Ring," a piece of jewelry designed by Newfoundland's Christopher Kearney, with four moveable dials, each one struck with the entire alphabet.
What word will our two NeWest authors create first if they win? Well, Alice Zorn, who is nominated in the Short Fiction category for her wonderful collection Ruins & Relics, could merrily spell out her last name. But what about Michael Davie, who is nominated in the Novel category for Fishing for Bacon? MIKE? FISH? How about BACO? Ah, but let's not jinx them by... er... twirling our alphabet dials before they're hatched. The winners will be announced at the Ottawa International Writers Festival, which takes place from October 20-26. Good luck, Alice and Michael. And readers, be sure to keep a lookout for Alice Zorn's upcoming novel Arrhythmia, which NeWest Press will be publishing this spring. |
|
|
How Keen Was My Vallum |
|
|
|
NeWest Press published My Beloved Wager nearly a year ago, but reviews of Erín Moure's sprightly collection of essays continue to pop up in literary journals across North America. One of our favourites was written by James Edward Reid and appears in the August 2010 issue of the Montreal litmag Vallum. The article isn't available online, so allow us to share a couple of choice paragraphs:
"Near the end of the essay 'It Remained Unheard,' we read, 'Because when I put my ear to paper, I hear guns and money, the thoughtless oppression of women, of labour in the third world by we who wear its clothes, the death of bees and songbirds, the loss of wetlands, the rising of the great Antarctic shelf as the ice that holds it down melts away. Phooey on the poetic voice.' "Phooey? Count me in. While many essays and reviews exemplify caution, incremental knowledge creep or creeps, and careerist backscratching, the ebullience and brilliance of My Beloved Wager breathes vigourous life into a sometimes moribund genre. Reading her, the weaknesses of essayists such as Montaigne, and their often class-bound aperçus throw these pale shadows and their pale riders into sharp relief." Ouch! Hear that, Montaigne? Erín Moure is gunning for you! |
|
|
| 
|

|

|

Featured Media:


 |

|
|
|
|