Not a Cult – serie

Inspired by Lanford Wilson’s play Talley’s Folly, Jeremy Radin’s Dear Sal is a series of epistolary meditations on loneliness, longing, the Jewish diaspora, bewilderment, divinity, and love. Radin’s second collection lays bare a life lived in romantic exile, using the play’s events—one year after a brief but passionate affair, a man returns to a deserted boathouse on his beloved’s family property in order to offer himself to her—as the foundation for a mystifying interior stage, populated by a cast of eccentrics, upon which a man must wrestle, each moment, with his own unremitting desire.

The second title from Gabi Abrão, a collection of short stories and poems inspired by real-life currents that take the poet from digital, to earth, beyond, and back again.Practices in Apparition is an offering to ghosts and Gods and the vessels in which they long to be seen. Through communion with both the digital and the natural at great extremes, romances both enduring and tragically brief, theory and revelation; this collection of true stories leads readers on a hunt for the sacred, and often finds it.

The debut novel from online sensation Chloé Happe, a vital story of personal reconciliation from the grips of internet addiction. Desolation E-Girl sweeps readers into the self-imposed exile and unfolding spiritual quest of a chronically online e-girl, rescued from the placeless depths of the internet’s white noise and delivered into the enchanted satori mesas of New Mexico's high desert.This is her journey to reconstruct the self from first principles. Reconsidering everything she once believed, she reevaluates what she is living for, the things she serves, and what it means to be human.

"The most elegant of all art critic cowboys” —Spike Art MagazineColor beams at us from the everyday, but within each of the ten million shades are hidden our best and worst stories. Colors is a collection of lush short stories about the many different shades that make up our lives. Berardini guides us through a spectrum of vignettes, weaving inspiration from Calvino’s Invisible Cities and Bowie’s Sound and Vision, arriving at color’s fundamental intersection with who we are and how we live.

Landsmoder, by the Salvadoran poet, historian, and performance artist Elena Salamanca, is a searing, and sometimes grotesque, exploration of the intersections between nationalism, dogma, patriarchy, and violence. Originally read aloud from the oldest standing monument in San Salvador’s centro histórico, the performance poems in Landsmoder retool the laudatory pomp of patriotic ceremony to protest the weaponization of national myth as a mask for erasure, cruelty, and neglect at the hands of the state. This unflinching collection, whose title comes from a Norwegian word that Salamanca translates as “madre de la patria” — or “mother of the nation/homeland/fatherland”— is a work of feminist grief, rage, and irony populated with churning wombs, bloodied flags, and ratteboned she-wolves. Appearing now in a bilingual edition nearly a decade after it was first performed, Landsmoder remains an urgent subversion, loud as ever, both on and off the page.