The Contest
The 2011 programs have concluded and judging is complete. To keep up to date, follow the publisher’s blog or find us on Facebook. Find the 2011 LAP winners here. There will not be a program in 2012. Details on the next program will be announced this summer.
The Books
We started out with Canadian sensation Ray Robertson’s Moody Food, the critically acclaimed rock’n'roll-suffused modern tragedy. Moody Food is a fictionalized saga of music, love and the power of revolution inspired by the life of the legendary singer-songwriter Gram Parsons. Next, we released The Fires, by NPR’s Alan Cheuse. Then came The Dangerous Joy of Dr. Sex & Other True Stories, a creative nonfiction collection from the ‘Queen of the Zines,’ Pagan Kennedy. That was followed by the release of the 20th Anniversary Edition of Richard Currey’s international bestseller, Fatal Light. There’s more to come.
The Latest From the Journal
The 2011 Literary Awards Program Winners
The winners for the 2011 Literary Awards Program are in! The grand prize goes to: Lance Larsen for Seventeen Ways to Float. In second place is: Angie Chuang for The Four Words for Home In third place we have: Emily Stone for In Search of Chocola: Love, Chocolate, and Language in Guatemala
Last day for the 2011 Literary Awards Program!
Here we go… December 15th. Today is the last day for the Literary Awards Program. All postal entries must be postmarked with today’s date. For online entries, I’ll be taking down the forms tomorrow… So you’ve got all day, no matter where you are. No worries there. Any problems or last minute questions – shoot me an [...]
These Days
It was cool for that time of year, tolerable. The night was hidden by a hazy mist that clung to the van’s windshield. Larry almost didn’t see the kid until he was upon him—a ghost on the side of the road, neither coming nor going. Larry passed him—no hitchhikers, ever. Too dangerous these days. Maybe once, when he himself was a kid, but not now, not after Nixon, after Oklahoma City and Osama bin Laden. He’d spent over a decade on the road, one of the last hardy traveling salesmen, a dying breed he called himself, and he’d survived as long as he had because he didn’t pick up hitchhikers. Common sense kept you alive.
But a habitual glance in the rearview mirror caused him to pull over. Something about the slump of the figure’s shoulders suggested youth.