Every Night I Dream I’m a Monk, Every Night I Dream I’m a Monster by Damian Tarnopolsky
Every Night I Dream I’m a Monk, Every Night I Dream I’m a Monster has an intellectual dynamo running underneath the words.
Every Night I Dream I’m a Monk, Every Night I Dream I’m a Monster has an intellectual dynamo running underneath the words.
[Sampson] presents his version of the Island’s pastoral sheen through a subgenre of horror that features a haunted house situated in an isolated place.
A book of extravagant fancy and heightened language with an occasional patch of straightforward prose, self-referentiality, and allusions to pop culture.
In The Art of Forgiveness, Chris Benjamin presents readers with short fictions in grim tones about three friends — Gerry, Long, and Drew — in a collection that could have been called Men Without Women if Hemingway first, then Murakami, hadn’t used that title.
The personas writers invent (often subconsciously) for their non-fiction usually attempt or pretend to show more or less of the private self. In Because Somebody Asked Me To, bemedaled and oft-rewarded Guy Vanderhaeghe favours a straight speaking tone, whether reviewing Richard Ford or talking to historians.
Four novellas by four writers are presented in Blasphemy and Other Ancestors: “The New Book” (Padgett Powell), “Aunt Katie’s Tales” (Darius James), “The Werewolf” (Lee Henderson), and “Insolite” (Jean Marc Ah-Sen). What unites them isn’t theme or situations.