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Conjunctions Reading with Martine Bellen, Greg Jackson, Lynn Schmeidler, & Dave King
Unnameable Books celebrates the Curiosity issue of Conjunctions
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
7:00 pm – 9:00 pm EST/GMT-5
Unnameable Books, 600 Vanderbilt Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11238
Conjunctions celebrates its current issue, Conjunctions:71, A Cabinet of Curiosity, with readings by contributors Martine Bellen, Greg JacksonLynn Schmeidler, and Dave Kingintroduced by Conjunctions senior editor Michael Sarinsky, at Unnameable Books (600 Vanderbilt Ave, Brooklyn). Copies of the issue will be available for sale and signing.

Longtime contributor Martine Bellen will read from “An Anatomy of Curiosity.” Writers new to Conjunctions include 2019 Bard Fiction Prize winner Greg Jackson (“A Curiosity of Spies”), Lynn Schmeidler (“The Wanting Beach”) and Dave King (“Once More to the Beach”).  

The literary journal Conjunctions, edited by novelist Bradford Morrow and published by Bard College, has been a living notebook for provocative, risk-taking, rigorously composed fiction, poetry, and narrative nonfiction since 1981. As PEN America has it: “Conjunctions is one of our most distinctive and valuable literary magazines: innovative, daring, indispensable, and beautiful.”

In addition to work by the readers, the Curiosity  issue includes contributions by Joyce Carol Oates, Lauren Green, Ann Beattie, Greg Bossert, Can Xue, Stephen O'Connor, Gerard Malanga, Brandon Hobson, Jeffrey Ford, Maud Casey, Catherine Imbriglio, Kelsey Peterson, Madeline Kearin, Eleni Sikelianos, A. D. Jameson, Bin Ramke, Samuel R. Delany, Laura van den Berg, Nathaniel Mackey, Matt Bell, Diane Ackerman, Joanna Scott, Jeffrey Ford, Can Xue, Quintan Ana Wikswo, Elizabeth Hand, Gregory Norman Bossert, Julianna Baggott, William Lychack, and Sarah Blackman.

 
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
 
Martine Bellen is the author of nine collections of poetry and three opera libretti. Her most recent poetry collection is This Amazing Cage of Light: New and Selected (Spuyten Duyvil).

Greg Jackson is the author of Prodigals (Farrar, Straus and Giroux), for which he received the National Book Foundation’s 5 Under 35 Award, the 2019 Bard Fiction Prize, and was named one of Granta’s Best Young American Novelists. His work has appeared in The New YorkerGrantaVQRTin House, and Vice, among other places. In 2014, he was a finalist for the National Magazine Award in Fiction.

Lynn Schmeidler is a prose writer and poet. Her work has appeared in such publications as The AwlBarrow StreetBoston ReviewFenceThe Georgia Review and The Southern Review, as well as numerous anthologies. Schmeidler has published one poetry book, History of Gone (Veliz Books, shortlisted for the 2016 Sexton Poetry Prize) and two chapbooks, Curiouser & Curiouser (winner of the 2013 Grayson Books Chapbook Contest) and Wrack Lines (Grayson Books). She received a Tennessee Williams scholarship in fiction from The Sewanee Writers’ Conference, is a Pushcart Prize nominee in fiction, a Best of the Net nominee in poetry, and has had work listed under Other Distinguished Stories in Best American Short Stories. She is currently completing a novella and short story collection.
 
Dave King’s novel The Ha-Ha (Little, Brown) won the 2006 Rome Prize from the American Academy of Arts and Letters. His poems and stories have appeared in The Paris Review, Fence, and other venues; and his story “The Stamp Collector” is included in The O. Henry Prize Stories 2018. A memoir about his 1974 travels is in the works.

Contact: Nicole Nyhan , conjunctions@bard.edu, 845-758-7054
http://www.conjunctions.com

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Vol. 77
States of Play: The Games Issue
Fall 2021
Bradford Morrow

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November 17, 2021
I fell asleep with my girlfriend’s head on my shoulder, but woke to a too-familiar absence—one that had somehow followed us down all those highway miles—her body a shadow on the other bed that could have belonged to anyone, could have been an axe murderer for all I knew, but I just closed my eyes and willed whatever future was coming to hurry, I was tired of waiting for it. On my second waking the sun was shouldering its way into the room through the crack in the curtains, my girlfriend now missing from both beds, and the room was made strange by her disappearance so that I flung myself out from under the covers. I found her in the bathroom with her hands on either side of the sink, the water running and There’s something wrong with it Liv she said.
November 10, 2021
        The fathers drowned and scientists were baffled.
          All over the world fathers met their end in water. Fishing fathers drowned in rivers, swimming fathers drowned in lakes, tanning fathers drowned in backyard pools. Bathing fathers drowned in tubs and surfing fathers were sucked in the sea’s undertow. Fathers panning for gold drowned in creeks. A father was found dead with his head in an overflowing sink near dishes slick with syrup from breakfast. A father in a bathrobe was discovered face down in a puddle in the parking lot of a department store. Deep within a national forest, a father was found upended with both black rubber boots stuck up high from a primitive outhouse’s chamber hole. He would have looked funny if he weren’t dead.
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November 3, 2021
   The day you told me the world was ending, you had inquired about a particular scent for treating your mother’s lapses in memory (further complicating the matter by saying that your father, the primary witness to her memory loss, was also deteriorating himself). I assured you there was no such perfume.

            As a joke or token of consolation, I showed you a favorite scent of my mother’s, which had played no small part in enchanting my father. It was a perfume heavy with middle notes, or heart-notes, as we call it, which take longer to dissipate. It had no medical basis for treating pre-existing memory loss, but the scent alone was potent enough to provide an olfactory anchor at the moment of inhalation—a perfumed time-stamp. 

            Of course the world was ending, I said. Everything was always ending. 
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