News and Events

See all News and Events

A Reading by Rick Moody
Monday, April 4, 2016
2:30 pm – 3:45 pm EDT/GMT-4
Campus Center, Weis Cinema
 [A Reading by Rick Moody] The celebrated author of Garden State, The Ice Storm, The Ring of Brightest Angels Around Heaven, Purple America, The Black Veil: A Memoir with Digressions, and other books reads from his new novel, Hotels of North America.

Introduced by Bradford Morrow and followed by a Q&A, the reading takes place at 2:30 p.m. in Weis Cinema, Bertelsmann Campus Center, and is free and open to the public; no tickets or reservations are required.

"Rick Moody is one of the most prodigiously talented writers in America." – Wall Street Journal

"Moody is a stylishly clever writer." —Time

"Rick Moody writes exquisite, word-smitten prose." —Elle

"Entertaining and often poignant, Rick Moody probes the limits of technology, consciousness, and language in the face of grief." – The New Yorker

"Moody’s powers of invention, his ease in his own prose, his ability to develop interesting characters — in short, his enormous gifts as a writer — are on full display." – New York Times Book Review
 

Contact: Micaela Morrissette, [email protected], 845-758-7054
https://www.rickmoodybooks.com/

Connect

e-mail
Submissions

In Print

Vol. 82
Works & Days
Spring 2024
Bradford Morrow

Online

October 16, 2024
Last night I was certain
pppyou were there with a gift
light balanced against shadow

fugitives move along fence lines
cities burningppp
we’re asked to send money
cities burn
where are the plans
there were no bells, no sirens, no warningpppthe cities burned
 
October 9, 2024
Flattened stone floor, covered
in wooden slats, the portico
with columns and even arches,
not exactly the porch
the other house (our same floor
plan doubled into something else)
had across our common grass.
October 2, 2024
It is not a beautiful day in Mexico City unless you can see Popocatépetl. In this place, beauty is determined solely by whether or not the volcano breaches the nebulous smog like a visitation, by whether the eye can ascend its snow-covered face. When what was sensed but veiled yesterday is suddenly revealed today, it is, in the smallest way, a faith realized.