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The Summer 2009 Issue of Arts and Literary Journal The Battered Suitcase. Edited by Fawn Neun and Apythia Morges. Fiction by Don Hucks, Doug Mathewson, Anthony Kane Evans, Chris Miller. Poetry by Mark Bonica, Naomi Woddis. Interviews with Amanda Palmer and Paul Diamond Blow
The Winter 2009 Issue of Arts and Literary Journal The Battered Suitcase; intelligent and imaginative prose, poetry and art that explores the human Lexperience. Edited by Fawn Neun, Maggie Ward, and Apythia Morges. Features Gay Degani, Catherine Sharpe, Anthony Bromberg, Milan Smith and an interview with artist Chris Mars.
Autumn 2009 Issue of The Battered Suitcase; intelligent and imaginative prose, poetry and art that explores the human experience. Edited by Fawn Neun, Maggie Ward, and Apythia Morges. Fiction by D.E. Fredd, C Rommial Butler and Moira Moody. Poetry by iDrew, Amye Archer and Molly Gaudry. Art by Aunia Kahn. Interviews with Kieran Leonard and Steve Parsons of Jupiter Crash.
The Spring Issue of Arts and Literary Journal The Battered Suitcase; intelligent and imaginative prose, poetry and art that explores the human experience. Edited by Fawn Neun, Maggie Ward, Alice Bigelow and Apythia Morges.
A magic-tinged contemporary YA about grief and hope from the acclaimed New York Times bestselling author of the Graceling Realm novels. Wilhelmina Hart is part of the infamous class of 2020. Her high school years began with a shocking presidential election and ended with a pandemic. In the midst of this global turmoil, she also lost one of her beloved aunts, a loss she still feels keenly. Having deferred college, Wilhelmina now lives in a limbo she can see no way out of, like so many of her peers. Wilhelmina’s personal darkness would be unbearable (especially with another monumental election looming) but for the inexplicable and seemingly magical clues that have begun to intrude on her life—flashes of bizarre, ecstatic whimsy that seem to add up to a message she can’t quite grasp. But something tells her she should follow their lead. Maybe a trail of elephants, birds, angels, and stale doughnuts will lead Wilhelmina to a door?
While recuperating from the events of Aftermath on a Greek island, Inspector Alan Banks reads that the bones of his childhood friend, Graham Marshall, have been dug up in a field not far away from the road where he disappeared more than thirty-five years earlier. Intrigued by the discovery, and still consumed with guilt because of a related incident he failed to report at the time, Banks returns to his hometown in Cambridgeshire and becomes peripherally involved in the investigation, headed by newcomer Detective Inspector Michelle Hart. At the same time, a few counties away, the case of another missing teenager – the son of a famous model and step-son of anex-footballer, is handed to DI Annie Cabbot. Banks shuttles between the two cases far apart in time but perhaps not so far apart in character. When the lives of both detectives are threatened, Banks searches his own memories for clues, until he is finally forced to confront truths he would rather avoid, and finds that, in these investigations, the boundary between victim and perpetrator, guardian of the law and law-breaker is becoming ever more blurred. A gripping crime novel, set in the present day, The Summer That Never Was is also a gritty and evocative portrait of northern England in the sixties, and an exploration of the nature of memory, the destruction of families, andadolescence.
"Struggling to raise her little brother Donal, eight-year-old Wavy is the only responsible adult around. Obsessed with the constellations, she finds peace in the starry night sky above the fields behind her house, until one night her star-gazing causes an accident. After witnessing his motorcycle wreck, she forms an unusual friendship with one of her father's thugs, Kellen, a tattooed ex-con with a heart of gold. By the time Wavy is a teenager, her relationship with Kellen is the only tender thing in a brutal world of addicts and debauchery"--
I've done my best in what follows to put my life dowb with accuracy and without exaggeration, as memory and research have prompted. Yes, Mr. Orwell, even the disgraceful bits-some of them. But as Mr. Dickey notes, memory is notoriously self-serving. Ig you find yourself in these pages and don't like what I have remembered about you, I apologize. I was after the truth of my own life and everything else was subject to that.