Suzannah Evans – författare

The planet will be home to more than 9 billion people by 2050, and we''re already seeing critical levels of famine around the world mirrored by growing obesity in developed nations. In The Perfect Protein, Andy Sharpless maintains that protecting wild seafood can help combat both issues, because seafood is the healthiest, cheapest, most environmentally friendly source of protein on earth. While the conservation community has taken a simplistic, save-the-whales approach when it comes to oceans, Sharpless contends that we must save the world''s seafood not just to protect marine life and biodiversity but to stave off the coming humanitarian crisis. With high demand for predator species like tuna and salmon, wealthy nations like the U.S. convert "reduction" species such as anchovies, mackerel, and sardines into feed for salmon and other farmed animals—even though these overlooked fish are packed with health-boosting Omega-3 fatty acids and could feed millions. By establishing science-based quotas, protecting wild habitats, and reducing bycatch (and treating anchovies and their like as food, not feed), Sharpless believes that effective ocean stewardship can put healthy, sustainable seafood on the table forever. To that end, Oceana has tapped 20-plus chefs, including Mario Batali, Eric Ripert, and Jose Andres for recipes that give us all a role to play in this revolutionary mission: to save the fish so that we can eat more fish.

Suzannah Evans’ debut collection Near Future is doom-pop-poetry with an apocalyptic edge, a darkly humorous journey through sci-fi lullabies and northern mysteries. This is a future simulation stripped of the space-age gloss of progression - one where the robots have gone rogue and the hopes of a new millennium are malfunctioning; this is a skewed yet oddly familiar world gone uncannily wrong.These playful, sharp, poems are also about more than dystopias and five types of possible apocalypse - in looking at the worst-case scenarios, Evans comes closer to the bigger narrative; universal truths of change, whether man-made or natural, preventable of inevitable, and the uncertain business of human existence where 'there are disasters that you cannot prepare yourself for'. Evans brings a distinctive, skilful and wonderfully peculiar roving eye to our restless and unpredictable times.

Suzannah Evans'' debut collection Near Future is doom-pop-poetry with an apocalyptic edge, a darkly humorous journey through sci-fi lullabies and northern mysteries. This is a future simulation stripped of the space-age gloss of progression - one where the robots have gone rogue and the hopes of a new millennium are malfunctioning; this is a skewed yet oddly familiar world gone uncannily wrong.These playful, sharp, poems are also about more than dystopias and five types of possible apocalypse - in looking at the worst-case scenarios, Evans comes closer to the bigger narrative; universal truths of change, whether man-made or natural, preventable of inevitable, and the uncertain business of human existence where 'there are disasters that you cannot prepare yourself for'. Evans brings a distinctive, skilful and wonderfully peculiar roving eye to our restless and unpredictable times.

Everything That Can Happen contains many kinds of future: an android fills out a passport form; the local cricket pitch is lost underwater; frozen limbs thaw from cryogenic sleep; robotic shoes allow for highspeed parenting.The poems in this anthology explore time, language, changing landscapes, future selves, uncertainty, catastrophe and civilisation. Whether imagining a distant, apocalyptic future or the moment we live in, nudged slightly beyond what we know, the poems ask what we can do to prepare ourselves for a future that edges a little closer every day.

Suzannah Evans’ new pamphlet introduces us to Green, half human, half angry nature spirit. Green serves as a stunt double for our own rage and complicity in nature’s destruction. He shows us nature’s delights so we may mourn their loss more deeply.

''My mother was an oak treemy dad a garage mechanicMy father was a field of wheatmy mother the Prime MinisterMy mother was an innkeeperand my father a lonely cactus…''Suzannah Evans'' new pamphlet introduces us to Green, half human, half angry nature spirit. Green serves as a stunt double for our own rage and complicity in nature''s destruction. He shows us nature''s delights so we may mourn their loss more deeply.''In this delicious mini-biography of the mythic figure, Suzannah Evans has conjured up a Green Man – now modishly monikered ''Green'' – who is witness, listener, accountant, cheerleader, of all and every aspect of nature. An inveterate listicle maker, he can''t help but nag us until our attention is drawn back inexorably to the wonder of the world; it''s nightmares too. Whether he is supervising extinctions, lavender farming, or picking up plastic litter on the beach, Green is unabashedly a fun, wry and playful personality to spend some time with.'' Rishi Dastidar''Green is a contemporary secular canticle, where matter and living beings are in mischievous, polyphonic dialogue. Channelled through this beyond-human figure, it presents a decentred ecology where "Green isn''t rooting for anyone" – but where we must find a way to befriend ''him'', without turning him into a ''man''. Earth is lively and re-enchanted, in Green''s contemporary and accessible animism. We are invited to accept the majesty of llama memes alongside the ''death drop'' of species extinction. Fuck you, Green says to the wasps, stinging him all over, I still love you. A gentle, passionate, good-natured plea, for even the stickiest, ickiest, grossest creatures to be named in Green''s – and humanity''s – affections.'' Caleb Parkin

Space Baby asks difficult questions about the Earth, its beings, and what lies ahead for them; how do we look to the future on a planet that’s burning? How do we come to terms with our grief, and what can we believe in? If the human race destroys what we have, where will we go?In this dystopian, searching book, Evans mixes absurdity and wit with speculative, serious themes. Here, artificial intelligence and robots will ‘cuddle you to sleep’, the melting permafrost will reveal its surprises, and we encoutner the very first human baby born in space. Ultimately, Evans writes to acknowledge our responsibilities and interconnectedness with earth and all its lifeforms, as well as to our future generations. These are vivid, prescient poems of existence, and survival, which ask how we can still find joy on a ruined planet.