ARCHIVE FOR Colwill Brown
We always knew the GrubStreet community was bursting with talent, but with more book publications between 2018 and 2019 than we’ve ever seen before—from students, instructors, staff, and other community members—we're celebrating with a new author-to-author conversation series featuring just some of the Grubbies whose books are "pubbing" this year. Read on to find out what authors Katrin Schumann and Crystal King have to say about drafting, research, and those one-star Amazon reviews.
In the "Books that Made You" series, we're taking a look at the books that made us who we are. For this edition of our "Books That Made You Series," we asked you what book made you return to them. After scrutinizing our highly scientific social media poll, we present to you this non-exhaustive list of books that lure us back time and again.
November 8, 2018 | Colwill Brown
The October 2018 edition of "Writing Life Essentials," a monthly hand-curated list of contests, grants, scholarships, submissions calls, and awards, with a focus on opportunities that are at least one of the following: local, free to apply, and/or committed to celebrating and supporting writers from historically marginalized communities
Heralded by Publishers Weekly as a "fully realized depiction of how art and life inform each other," Omar Musa's debut novel, Here Come the Dogs, follows three restless young immigrants in small-town Australia in what the Los Angeles Times calls "a searing coming-of-age story that tackles race and masculine identity, dislocation and disempowerment." Musa appeared at Harvard Book Store in March to read from his explosive debut, and I caught up with him recently to talk politics, hip-hop, and role of the storyteller. Plus, click the audio track to find out how to spell "fuck" in Australian.
I’m sure ...
May 16, 2016 | Colwill Brown
In her recent essay, “On Pandering,” Claire Vaye Watkins records the shock of discovering that she wrote, primarily, for old white men, members of the literati like Franzen, Roth, et al whose approval she sought and to whose tastes and experiences her fiction catered. This summer, I experienced a revelation not dissimilar, but arguably even more depressing: I was writing my novel for young white men, and not the famous kind, not the lauded writer genius kind