Steve Glines, president of Industrial Myth and Magic and Doug Holder, president of Ibbetson Street Press announce the creation of ISCSpress a publishers service bureau offering editorial, production and marketing services nationwide.

Somerville, MA (PRWEB) July 20, 2007 -- Steve Glines, president of Industrial Myth and Magic and Doug Holder, president of Ibbetson Street Press announce the creation of ISCSpress to service the needs of small publishers and independent authors in the Boston area and nationwide.

"Both small presses and independently published authors are rarely able to provide the expertise required to bring a book to market," said Doug Holder, "by combining our editorial, design and marketing skills we hope to bring about a renascence in the small press world by allowing independent publishers access to the same level of resources the big boys have."

For the month of July, Perro Verlag Books by Artists will be displaying new titles in the window of Sophia Books, 450 West Hastings Street in Vancouver.  Featuring 10 current titles from the Hell Passport Project the display will include a flaming wheel with devils and souls of the damned trapped in the Eternal Fire.  Drop by the store to see the display and pick up some Hell Passports by Vancouver artists Julia Feyrer, Colin Upton, Collin Johanson, James Whitman and Wesley Mulvin.  Also featured are books by Toronto Artists Julie Voyce, Fiona Smyth and Mark Connery and Montreal artist Billy Mavreas. 

I am completely stoked to announce that The Loose Teeth has just released it’s 4^th book, It’s Too Late To Say I’m Sorry, a collection of short stories by Joey Comeau. It is a cute little thing, with a cover that looks and feels like a watercolour painting.  Actually, it looks like this:

That’s the painting we made it from.  It was painted by my friend Robin Kelly, who lives in Victoria, BC, but used to live in Halifax, NS and once watched on as Joey clobbered me with a tin garbage can and then kicked me until my ribs cracked in.  Just watched from the sidewalk, she did. What a pal.  Both of them, really.

For this, the 15th year of The Scream, we’re going with a thematic approach, investigating how contemporary poets and writers respond to living in an age of science. Though a publicist’s nightmare, the concept has proved to be a rich vein to mine, with a range of poetic responses coming to the surface– aesthetic, intellectual, and paranoid to name a few. The Scream is looking at the issue from a number of angles. On opening night, Dennis Lee’s fractured syntax provides an angered reflection of our post-rational age. Our Matrix night explores the issues directly, with a panel hosted by Clive Thompson and featuring Christian Bök, Ken Babtock, and angela rawlings, followed by a reading of poets engaging with science. This year’s Toronto Women’s Bookstore reading features a trio of writers hovering around science fiction. Thursday’s midnight madness Fantasia evening considers the aesthetics of fascination – a cage match between the scientists and the surrealists. The Literary Walking Tour shows poets in their natural habitat, an anthropological expedition into the worlds of these strange creatures. And this year’s book-length reading features Christopher Dewdney reading The Natural History.

The Line extends in a series of interlocking prose poems, creating a strobe-like effect of intensely imagined moments shifting between sleeping and waking.  Sharp, satirical, lush, or clear, the narrative voice twists through, seeking a line through time to braid its selves together.  Moxley's intrepid language tosses us into the swim--into a bracing intimacy with the writing consciousness.  

These prose poems tell the story of sleeping and waking, of this very bout of writing, of the search for the line of time and the poet's immortality.  The Line feels like a classic already, with its just words and its images "suggested by sound and experience."  It is a poetics but also a real, readable  tale.
                    —Alice Notley  

We're in the state between sleep and waking, where consciousness resists the tasks of reason and routine but instead views, from the perspective of darkness, the whole span from newborn promise to the old mammals’ erosion of muscle.  Moxley's usual keen intelligence here comes with an oneiric fluidity as it hunts through the perplexities of life for THE LINE from past to future, the line for words to form and, implicitly, the ideal line of verse these prose poems play against with their amazing leaps, sly humor, and complex inference.  You'll wish the morning sun would not win out, the book not come to its end
                    —Rosmarie Waldrop