Julie Reverb, No Moon, Calamari Archive, 2015.
juliereverb.com/
Loss gave us our first voice, a diffused place, formless like bat formation. On closer inspection they were heavier bodies, their spans wider. They could’ve been albatrosses but never got close. They circled for years until sublated, picking us off like meteors with heavy grudges. Thirst did the rest. We couldn’t tell what kind of luck it was—had the dinosaurs gone through this, our grandmothers before us? There was no parole. We moved in a slow phalanx, our frowns carved. Our passion was violent but strained, heavylidded. We were sad totems, sinking into the dirt we’d boldly claimed as our own.
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"Mucking about Britain’s dankest districts, Julie Reverb’s Lucy and Billy release squalls of bitterly beautiful mortal ache. The interpenetrating narratives of NO MOON are torch songs ablaze on the page, flaming straight to your heart. Julie Reverb is a dauntless devastator of what passes for fiction these days, crashing through the templates into something nervily original."—Gary Lutz
"Every chapter in NO MOON is shadowed by loss and longing, and every chapter’s every sentence estranges language from timeworn usage. Julie Reverb possesses that rare gift—think Kathy Acker, Sam Lipsyte, James Joyce—to surprise her reader, with mimetic grit and linguistic rigor, into fits of quizzical laughter. The care and ingenuity with which this novel works to portray the content of its protagonist’s mind is unsurpassed in recent fiction: Lucy’s consciousness inflects the narrative dynamically, eloquently, always masterfully. NO MOON is a revelatory exposé on the body, a lyrical meditation on grief, and an explosion of literary decorum—it’s a tour de force."—Evan Lavender-Smith
"Julie Reverb’s writing fluctuates with a fluid syntax punctuated with unpredictable nouns, unexpected adjectives, and other verbal surprises. I’ve never read anything quite like these stories before and you probably haven’t either."—Michael Kimball
EXCERPTS:
Selected short fictionBad News Waitress– Numéro Cinq
The Old Country Speaks– The Quietus
Inverted Yearning– gorse journal
The Bad News First– 3:AM magazine
You’ve Got Something On Your Face– Sleepingfish 11
Pound It– Squawk Back (my first ever story)