“Necromancy Never Pays” Features Rose Solari Poem
The unique literary blog from writer Jeanne Griggs features Solari's “Somewhere Between Four and Five A.M.”
Blogger and English PhD, Jeanne Griggs, discovers a gem while sorting her bookshelves. Reading as she sorts, "because, you know, that’s why we keep these books, so we can dip into them whenever we want to," Griggs picks out a thin volume with deckled edges and French folds: The Last Girl by Rose Solari, a poet friend from graduate school.
Read the entire blog post on Jeanne's blog Necromancy Never Pays.
The Last Girl is Solari's third collection of poetry after Orpheus in the Park and Columbia award-winning Difficult Weather. The Last Girl represents a writer working at the peak of her powers, possessed of technical mastery, fierce perception, and a tender but unsentimental heart.
The World of Yesterday (Armistice Day, 2018)
My father always said that his first memory was of standing on the couch in his parent’s living room, small hands on the back cushion, peering out a picture widow at a neighborhood street in Bend, Oregon. There is a slow-moving line of cars and horse-drawn carriages inching its way down the lane. The line of cars is there every day, and every day he stands there and watches. His street is a long one and at the end of it is the cemetery. He is not allowed to go outside to play. Death is all anyone talks about. Death from a great flu epidemic. Death from a great war just ending. Everyone has lost someone. Most have lost a few. It is 1918…
Linda Watanabe McFerrin Interviewed for Author Matthew Felix’s Video Podcast
Author and poet Linda Watanabe McFerrin sat down with Matthew Felix, himself an author of some renown, for Matthew’s video podcast this last weekend. What follows is an in-depth, thoughtful, and often irreverent look at writing, life, travel, and zombies. And more, we get to hear many of the juicy details on Linda’s new Legacy Book due out from ASP in Autumn 2019…
Fact or Fiction
…And so it is for me, as I send an invented “namesake” into worlds I know vicariously but haven’t lived—Hollywood and hippies, communes and con artists, Woodstock and the Summer of Love. In the opening of Melanie’s Song, J.J. is poised at the edge of the Pacific reflecting on where she has been and where she is going. She is endowed with a deep and spiritual connection to a native place we share, but I am also setting her free to fly into her own undiscovered territory.