We adore our INCH contributors and book authors, and we always have our eyes and ears open for emerging writers when we scan the latest issues of journals, check the most recent blog posts, catch the tweets flying by, or grab a beer at a local reading.
We’d like to celebrate some of the new and not-so-new artists we discover during the course of our weeks in the hopes that they’ll contribute to Bull City Press in the future. (And we want to celebrate the hell out of our indie press community that we love.)
Late night. A hotel bar after a writers’ conference. Writers at every table, lining the walls and the windows, crushed together at the bar. Everybody working some angle, talking readings or hookups or where to eat. A couple books change hands, move from one messenger bag to another. But in the boozy post-conference tumult, you see only one writer actually reading, oblivious to everything around him. Absolutely engulfed, the way every reader wants to be in a book. I ask what the book is. I have to know. He hands me David Tomas Martinez‘s Hustle, forthcoming in May from Sarabande Books. A tempestuous voice, aware of the brutality its masculinity sometimes suggests, carefully controlled with dextrous syntax. I’m transported. Fifteen pages later, someone taps me on the shoulder and asks what has me so beguiled.