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by Shell Fischer
March/April 2010
Beginning this year New Poets for Peace, the New York City branch of Poets for Peace—a grassroots group that for the past decade has held free, donation-optional readings across the country to raise funds for international relief organizations—plans to host an event every six weeks in Manhattan, including a special reading and silent auction on March 21 in observance of the seventh anniversary of the U.S. military's invasion of Iraq.
by Joshua Bodwell
Novelist Tom Perrotta visited the University of New Hampshire in Durham as part of its Writers Series on an early March afternoon that was sunny enough for New Englanders to shed their wool caps and warm enough for the giant sand-filled snow banks that lined the roads to recede ever so slightly.
by Jean Hartig
On a sultry Friday night, amid the thumping bass notes from cruising cars and the occasional thunder of the elevated J train, a wonderfully distinctive literary event took place in the dim white rooms of a studio space in northeast Brooklyn.
by Timothy Schaffert
September/October 2006
Fueled by equal parts biodiesel gas and small press ambition, the Wave Books 2006 Poetry Bus Tour is scheduled to roll through forty-nine cities during the next two months, beginning in Seattle on September 4.
by Steve Almond and Julianna Baggott
Another day, another strange encounter in an airport. This one with Charles D’Ambrosio, who wound up on the same flight as ours from Portland to Seattle.
by Steve Almond and Julianna Baggott
Why is Portland, Oregon, my favorite city in which to read? Let me count the ways.
by Steve Almond and Julianna Baggott
As I stepped off the plane at the San Francisco International Airport, a strange, terrifying thought gripped me: Julianna will be meeting my mother tonight. It would be a momentous event. The two women most capable of humiliating me in public would be in the same room—and no doubt interacting during the question-and-answer session.
I could tell from that little extra pep in Julianna’s step that she was looking forward to it.
by Steve Almond and Julianna Baggott
I’m going to dispense with a report on the weather, because I am writing to you from Los Angeles, where the temp is perma-locked at eighty-three degrees Fahrenheit. The famous smog is still here, the toxic velvet dusk, the gleaming impermanence of movie billboards. And—let us now thank the gods of good fortune—my new wife Erin!
by Steve Almond and Julianna Baggott
Ah, springtime in New York City! That ineluctable smell! What is it, exactly? Curry and fish sauce, garbage, perfume, rotten eggs, fresh bread, urine, incense, stale tailpipe, shish kebab, body odor. (I am estimating.)
by Steve Almond and Julianna Baggott
This is the first installment in a series of Postcards written by Steve Almond and Julianna Baggott, coauthors of Which Brings Me to You (Algonquin Books, 2006), while on tour to promote their book.