I have two large bookshelves in my office, one for poetry and a second for fiction.
The poetry bookshelf is full of collected works (Louise Gluck, James Merrill) I haven’t read all the way through as well as single collections I’ve read over ad over—Anne Carson’s Beauty of the Husband, Ada Limon’s Sharks in the River, Traci Brimhall’s Rookery. This bookshelf also contains a smattering of nonfiction, including Arsenal Pulp Press’s fantastic anthology Persistence: All Ways Butch and Femme.
The fiction bookshelf reveals that I do not read too much fiction unless you count Oz books, bestiaries, and fairytale translations. My loves Italo Calvino, Margaret Atwood, and Shirley Jackson are all well represented here
The first shelf on my small bookshelf is reserved for chapbooks as well as books I’ve just read and loved (Jeff Vandermeer’s excellent Southern Reach Trilogy) / books I’m planning to read soon (D.A. Powell’s Cocktails).
Here you’ll find Feng Sun Chen’s The 8th House, Margaret Bashaar’s Stationed Near the Gateway, and Danez Smith’s [insert boy], as well as chapbooks from Button Poetry, Hyacinth Girl, Porkbelly, and Ugly Duckling Press.
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