From the Project Blog
Sally Wen Mao is the author of Mad Honey Symposium (Alice James Books, 2014), the winner of the 2012 Kinereth Gensler Award and a Publishers Weekly Top Ten Pick of Fall 2014. Her work has been anthologized in The Best American Poetry 2013 and is forthcoming or published in Black Warrior Review, Guernica, Gulf Coast, Indiana Review, Mid-American Review,and Third Coast, among others. A Kundiman fellow, she holds a B.A. from Carnegie Mellon University and an M.F.A. from Cornell University, where she was a lecturer in creative writing and composition for three years. She currently lives in Brooklyn, NY and teaches in the Asian American Studies department at Hunter College.
Joyelle McSweeney is the author of eight books in multiple genres, most recently the verse play Dead Youth, or, the Leaks, a hacked carcinogenic farce which was selected to inaugurate the Leslie Scalapino Award for Innovative Women Playwrights, as well as The Necropastoral: Poetry, Media, Occults, which reads together authors as diverse as Jack Smith, Wilfred Owen, Aime Cesaire and Kim Hyesoon. With Johannes Goransson, Joyelle edits the international press Action Books and teaches at the University of Notre Dame.
Read more at The Brooklyn Rail
Benjamin Hollander was born in Haifa, Israel and as a boy immigrated to New York City. He presently lives on the west coast of North America. His books include: In the House Un-American (Clockroot Books/Interlink Publishing, Spring 2013); Memoir American (Punctum Books, Spring 2013); Vigilance (Beyond Baroque Books, 2005); Rituals of Truce and the Other Israeli (Parrhesia Press, 2004); The Book of Who Are Was (Sun & Moon Press, 1997); How to Read, Too (Leech Books, 1992); and, as editor, Translating Tradition: Paul Celan in France (ACTS, 1988).
Of his newest book, In The House Un-American, the poet David Shapiro says: “It is difficult to speak of Benjamin Hollander’s masterpiece, so America, so like an inner emigration, as if we had all changed names….A book of this order comes very rarely to our consciousness; we are so censorious of new genres….[T]his book exists as music barely heard in the air becomes music of our ground, grain.”