One of my favorite editors and agents, Irene Vilar, is helping launch the Americas Latino Festival November 15-19 in Denver, Colorado, and which may be of interest to a lot of Three Percent readers.
According to their website:
With the help of a steadily growing international, national, and local network of alliances and cooperation, the Americas Latino Festival is a community building, educational initiative that is bound to become The Latino Summit for Environmental and Social Justice. The festival unites diverse communities through dialogue on the environment, health, education, culture, and small business entrepreneurship.
The Americas Latino Festival’s mission is to foster a platform of dialogue and mobilization for a just society that ensures that everyone has access to a stable market, an able-bodied workforce & a healthy environment.
I’m going to attend and participate in a discussion about “Translation, Publishing, and Social Justice, so hopefully I’ll see some of you there.
As part of the festival, the Americas for Conservation & the Arts is also launching new book awards for full-length books of fiction and nonfiction, children’s books, and poems published between January 1, 2011, and November 1, 2013, along with unpublished fiction and non fiction.
All the information can be found here, but the main criteria are that the author must be alive and that the submission:
Expresses the themes of the America Latino Festival: environmental justice, reconciliation of peoples and places, migrations, adaptation, integration and inter-generational and cross-cultural dialogue. Especially, works that broaden our vision of how people and their activities, regardless of race or ethnicity, impact the environment or highlight our interdependence on the natural world. Additionally, works that deepen our connection to the natural world or bring new call to action ideas.
Winners will each receive a prize of $2,500.
There’s little to say about a series of prose poems that willfully refuse to identify pronoun antecedents. Or perhaps there are a million things. The poems in _Morse, My Deaf Friend_— the chapbook by Miloš Djurdjević published by Ugly Duckling. . .
The Crimson Thread of Abandon is the first collection of short fiction available in English by the prolific Japanese writer and all-around avant-garde trickster Terayama Shūji, who died in 1983 at the age of 47. This collection would be important. . .
Last year, NYRB Classics introduced English-language readers to Catalan writer Josep Pla with Peter Bush’s translation of The Gray Notebook. In that book, Pla wrote about life in Spain during an influenza outbreak soon after World War I, when. . .
“Your bile is stagnant, you see sorrow in everything, you are drenched in melancholy,” my friend the doctor said.
bq. “Isn’t melancholy something from previous centuries? Isn’t some vaccine against it yet, hasn’t medicine taken care of it yet?” I. . .
What to make of Vano and Niko, the English translation of Erlom Akhvlediani’s work of the same name, as well as the two other short books that comprise a sort of trilogy? Quick searches will inform the curious reader that. . .
The opening of Jón Gnarr’s novel/memoir The Indian is a playful bit of extravagant ego, telling the traditional story of creation, where the “Let there be light!” moment is also the moment of his birth on January 2nd, 1967. Then. . .
Mahasweta Devi is not only one of the most prolific Bengali authors, but she’s also an important activist. In fact, for Devi, the two seem to go together. As you can probably tell from the titles, she writes about women. . .
The prolific Spanish author Benito Pérez Galdós wrote his short novel, Tristana, during the closing years of the nineteenth century, a time when very few options were available to women of limited financial means who did not want a husband.. . .
Pedro Zarraluki’s The History of Silence (trans. Nick Caistor and Lorenza García) begins with the narrator and his wife, Irene, setting out to write a book about silence, itself called The History of Silence: “This is the story of how. . .
There are plenty of reasons you can fail to find the rhythm of a book. Sometimes it’s a matter of discarding initial assumptions or impressions, sometimes of resetting oneself. Zigmunds Skujiņš’s Flesh-Coloured Dominoes was a defining experience in the necessity. . .