An Imprint of Skywater Publishing Company
The lines in John Davis’s poems saunter and slide with a rhythm that shows music is the heartbeat and blood of his life. It carries him through youth in the `50s and`60s, through his work in a garage door factory, and even through a snowstorm as it keeps him from freezing when he helps a friend move. And [...]
After all the long hours and hard work, not just by the author but the designers and editors as well, it’s always exciting to see a book start coming together. Here’s the cover for our latest release, Gigs by John Davis, which will be available later this year.
The Town of Watered-Down Whiskey, by James Geiwitz, is the latest addition to Sol Books Prose Series. Here’s what the judges had to say about James’s book: “Minneota, Minnesota. Smalltown, America. For some, growing up in a place where everyone knows everybody evokes memories of grandmothers’ quilts, cruisin’ after school, and leaning in for your [...]
While Frank F. Carden’s book, The Prostitutes of Post Office Street, did not win the grand prize for the Eric Hoffer Book Award, it was the winning selection for the General Fiction Category. Here’s what the judges had to say: “This book gives voice to what is usually shrouded in silence. Author Carden opens a [...]
A big congrats goes out to Frank F Carden, author of The Prostitutes of Post Office Street. His debut novel was a finalist in the Eric Hoffer Book Award.
The off-key clarinetist will never hit the high C in ”Tequila,” but she keeps on blowing and the marching band keeps on enlarging its column right corners in the final rehearsal before school begins. All August a school daze has been approaching like a glow-worm. The fifth-year senior has tattooed his forearm with a naked [...]
Two trains are racing as two trains are wont to do, one at 50 mph from Memphis, engineer chewing on a blues tune, flicking it around his tongue like a toothpick. The other train is hustling up from Albuquerque at 70 mph, engineer longing for his darling, singing an empty-saddle song, tipping his hat. Which [...]
I saw my father standing outside the bus station with his life jumbled and knotted in nylon duffel bags; I pass him thinking how he was similar to the wind flicking rain from its hands; after he passes from my sight, I search for the figurative father, giving council unprejudiced by nature or other concerns, [...]
This week, the Reading Minnesota blog is featuring Connie Colwell Miller. Read a poem from her collection, Bodywearers, below. I-94 Westbound through Minnesota On a roundbale, a red-tailed hawk, and farther down, fields of corn, waxy eartips bent earthward in breeze. Behind me, a swayback barn and a silo with glint on its head. Later, [...]
At night, I see the dead in my dreams. Rotting, stinking, they become the stuff of root and earth. By day, I see the dead on the roads. Raccoons, housecats, chunks of deer, bloated or stiff with rigor mortis. One day, these corpses remind me, your mother will die. One day, too, your father. You [...]
