A review of Love Prodigal by Traci Brimhall

As is evident in her line about her mother telling her through her tears that she loves what her daughter’s done with her hair, Brimhall has a delightfully sly sense of humor. It’s on display in poems like “Admissions Essay” (“I could have been valedictorian if the metrics / were ardor and potential for transformation”), “Ode to Oxytocin at a Distance,” “I Would Do Anything for Love but I Won’t” (“cook lobster.

A review of Seeing through the Smoke by Peter Grinspoon, MD

Writing in a conversational and engaging style, Peter couples solid science with personal anecdotes, and tempers cold hard facts with his informed opinions. Bibliographic endnotes document the text, yet scholarly research rarely impedes the flow of the narrative. While credentialed as an MD, Grinspoon is no stuffy pedantic academic. As an undergrad lit major and grad student in philosophy, this Medical Doctor taps into his creative inner writer.

A review of Walking the Boundary by Damen O’Brien

A majority of the poems in Walking the Boundary are award winners, and if you follow these awards, as I do, the poems will be familiar. As the title suggests, these are poems about liminal spaces and edges between worlds, timeframes, states of being, genres, genders, parent and child, and between the human and any number of places, creatures, emotions, or landscapes.

A review of Tremor by Sonya Voumard

Tremor has many elements of a quest narrative. She recounts the many stages of her search to reach an acceptance of her ‘movement disorder’ by enduring social embarrassments, often feeling professionally vulnerable and overcoming her fears of being judged by others. Miraculously, Voumard’s good humour, dignity and empathy for others never waver, which results in a moving and thought-provoking memoir.

A review of The Burrow by Melanie Cheng

Cheng’s writing is so lovely, and her insights so acute, that even the slow chapters remain engaging. Her figurative language is especially striking. When Amy drifts into sleep, “better days flash, in orange hues, behind her lids.” Pauline reflects that, when one is young, “death [is] something to be teased and taunted, unseen and remote, like a hibernating animal.”

A Review of The Golden Land by Elizabeth Shick

Shick expertly pulls us into Yangon life and culture through glimpses of people, streets, food vendors, colorful gardens, and ancient temples. As Etta strolls through a working-class neighborhood, she notes how “makeshift shacks are stacked one upon the other like the slipper seashells I used to collect at the beach as a child,” then passes a man who “stands in front of his shack, his longyi hiked up to his groin as he lathers soap over his bare chest and legs.”