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A Reading by Joyce Carol Oates
Monday, October 26, 2015
3:00 pm – 4:00 pm EDT/GMT-4
Olin Hall
 [A Reading by Joyce Carol Oates] The National Book Award winner, two-time Pulitzer nominee, and widely acclaimed fiction writer and essayist reads "Walking Wounded," an new, unpublished story specially commissioned for its world premiere at this event.

Introduced by Bradford Morrow and followed by a Q&A, this event is free and open to the public; no tickets or reservations required.

Praise for Lovely, Dark, Deep

“Oates, one of few writers who achieves excellence in both the novel and the short story, has more than two dozen story collections to her name and she continues to inject new, ambushing power into the form. Oates’ stories seethe and blaze.” —Booklist

“With every new book Oates proves anew that she is perhaps our greatest contemporary American writer.” —Minneapolis Star Tribune

Praise for Carthage

“Knotted, tense, digressive and brilliant.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Joyce Carol Oates has outdone herself.” —NPR

“Brilliant … amazing. A compassionate tenderness suffuses the final sections of the book, as palpable as the cold irony with which the book begins. It’s a breathtaking effect.” —Washington Post

Praise for Evil Eye: Four Novellas of Love Gone Wrong

“An extraordinarily vivid depiction of lives gone awry ... A creepy, macabre thrill from start to finish. Terrific stuff.” —Independent

“Oates at her best—spare, swift, beautifully observed and quietly lethal.”—Times

Contact: Micaela Morrissette, [email protected], 845-758-7054

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In Print

Vol. 80
Ways of Water
Spring 2023
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

September 20, 2023
The Rachel stands tuned  
            to multiplicities, 
aslant in a territory of longing,
            where she becomes foreign.

            What has she found?
She listens, acknowledges another sound,
            diffuse, multiple,  
pulsing thought, oscillations, whisperings,
            never only one.
September 13, 2023
I had yet to discover the source of that star, it came and it passed but from where it sprang and then fell to fading remained a mystery. In cycling its light lent its powers to coloring my tablecloth a lighter shade, relieving pigment from its duty to darken, except for those spots where I placed my bottles and cups, shielding only parts of the piece from fading, threads left closer to their original hues hewed to others abandoned as wraiths to their fates, a darker ring the mark of those who stayed behind.
September 6, 2023
Where the trees blackened, I saw,

Quickly, three deer lean into goldenness.

It seems, although wildfires rage

Out of control, this world remembers

Some portion of its first purposes:

Superfluous beauty