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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 EDT/GMT-4
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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In Print

Vol. 75
Dispatches from Solitude
Fall 2020
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

April 14, 2021
When you think of white do you think of Rembrandt
in darkness          pockmarked     a sieve or a monkfish
Ahead now     ahead then:       ash        scrub pine        shade
and Penny –– then twelve        then my brother’s sole friend 
April 7, 2021
To sing’s to field thought’s
failed arrow, then drop it,

as sadness surprises,
as always, then doesn’t,

its record all rumors, bits
of lithic in its meat,
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Underneath the electric microscope frass gathered like a word no one could pronounce, or something children left in a cage. Sugar ants were gorging on the corpse of a cicada next to the front door. Soon four golden mounds were theirs, to carry back in their lemony bellies to the queen. I have a box of nine suns set on spikes, a pair of gray bags concealing speakers. I am your teacher, said the teacher, alone in a room. If there is a predicate to this.
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