Every day Poets & Writers Magazine scans the headlines—publishing reports, literary dispatches, academic announcements, and more—for all the news that creative writers need to know. Here are today’s stories.
At the New York Times, Alissa Quart examines how poets are breathing new life into politics. She admires the work of poet Camonghne Felix, who was longlisted for this year’s National Book Award in poetry and also serves as Elizabeth Warren’s director of surrogates and strategic communications. “If Ms. Felix is any guide, I have high hopes for what the poetic can achieve as it intersects more explicitly with American politics.”
Jeannie Vanasco talks to the Rumpus about the fragmentary structure of her new memoir, Things We Didn’t Talk About When I Was a Girl, and the experience of writing about trauma. She cites a Poets & Writers essay by Melissa Febos as an important reference: “The Heart-Work: Writing About Trauma as a Subversive Act.”
Carl Phillips reflects on the history of the Yale Series of Younger Poets. Analyzing his own judging practices and those of former judges W. S. Merwin and Louise Glück, he reveals how the award has evolved over the century. (Literary Hub)
Nneka McGuire visits Saeed Jones at home in Columbus, Ohio. Jones shows McGuire what he’s found to love in his new city—tailgating, for instance—and discusses his memoir, How We Fight For Our Lives. (Washington Post)
Molara Wood celebrates the increasing popularity of Nigerian fiction writers, especially women writers, and notes the eminence of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Nnedi Okorafor, and Lesley Nneka Arimah, among others. (Irish Times)
At the Millions, Nathan Englander discusses his new book, Kaddish.com, and the complex expectations—religious and nonreligious—surrounding mourning the dead. “It’s been really moving to be on the road and hear from people who’ve accidentally read it while mourning. People are reflecting on how they mourn.”
The Paris Review has published a brief interview with the music writer Nick Tosches, who died on Sunday at the age of sixty-nine. “Just enjoy every fucking blessed breath. Just enjoy it, because it’s not getting better.”
Time catches up with André Aciman ahead of the release of Find Me. Aciman talks love, insecurity, and attempting to resist the visual influence of the film adaptation for Call Me By Your Name while writing his sequel.
