The Tenth Month: A Hmong love novel
Contents:
Roxane Gay seems to have a knack for fearlessly telling the truth. Even in her fiction. From top to bottom: Hayek is the current leader in this dubious contest, as suits his dense prose. These are the books that are presently on my stand: Besides a notebook for jotting down ideas in the middle of the night and a large yellow highlighter. The latter is used for both types of books: I highly recommend it for anyone who is interested in making art. It provides a helpful reminder that inspiration is everywhere. But — on the floor? That seems a lot like what I keep trying to do with New York City.
Elvis Costello Dave Grossman Morten Stroknes john hodgman Most of my bedtime reading is done on a device, screen ambered and darkened, so as not to wake my wife during my now inevitable 2 to4 a. But I keep a few actual books on the nightstand as comforting totems. Bedtime reading should be comforting, lulling. After the death of my mom I used to keep an insanely detailed illustrated book of Star Wars vehicles. There I would lose myself in the mania of small details—finding where the Jawas slept on their Sandcrawler; examining the luggage compartments of an X-Wing—until my dumb brain finally gave up to sleep.
The Collected Writings of Gregory J. I enormously respect its impenetrability. Not even two pages.
Philipp Meyer Film as Film: The book explores the swordsmen of medieval Japan and the influence they had on the country. For me, the book is about the convergence of art and athleticism, and its effect on politics. And how their achievements affect their society. This satire peels back some uncomfortable layers of how the races see each other and is just as relevant today as it was in , when it was published.
So we are talking about id, ego and superego books. Clearly, I need a bigger nightstand. I am also currently leafing through a stack of meditation books that I bought at a meditation studio I like.
I do have an avalanche of books with a reading light sticking out of it. Books by my friends come first. Sitting there right now are: But a few are: All of this will be swept away in a joyous frenzy once I get my hands on the new James Lee Burke novel. I like to think that poetry outweighs demons on my nightstand.
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I return to it again and again in different stages of my life. Duty quickly turned into pleasure, awe, and admiration. Not just for his boldness and courage, not just for his enormous emotional range from boiling anger to the most exquisite tenderness , but for the quality of the writing itself, the chiseled grace of his sentences.
What I do have is an overloaded Kindle, of which the first four titles are: It seems an odd mix to me, and I am the one that chose them. Books tend to lie on the floor all round my side of the bed, frequently under it, and sometimes even in it leading to mild complaints or occasional kidnappings.
I like to have several on the go at once, according to mood. And finally, buried deep somewhere or other, my battered, priceless O. Yeats and Ted Hughes, both of which I did in fact read a good deal of over the summer. I know, I know … I read it at university, and then got halfway through it again in my 30s. For a while, I kept it in the loo, with the idea that I would read it in short, but regular, doses. I hope to get to both of them over summer break. John Banville David J.
As you can see, my mind is still marinating in the Civil War and its troubled aftermath. George Saunders James M. I wished I could simultaneously read one book with my left eye, one with my right.
- The Red Rats Daughter.
- Orangey the Goldfish (Book 1).
- Shades Of Magic (After The Fall).
- Borderlands.
- The Tenth Month A Hmong Love Novel?
- Ill Follow The Sun.
Alas, my stereoscopic brain says no. In defiance I have seven or eight books going at once. Currently on my nightstand: It tells the tale of Capt. Tom Dudley, who attempted to sail a small yacht from Southampton to Sydney, Australia, in , with a crew of just three men. This is a bit of a spoiler alert but the ship ended up wrecking and they had to eat somebody. Kitchen porn but not sinister: Derek Walcott Yehoshua Kenaz Charles Dantzig Albert Cohen Stephen Greenblatt Adam Tim Hayward simon sebag montefiore A crenelated wall of books encircles my bed, its tottering towers looming ever taller, always on the verge of collapsing onto oblivious sleepers.
I try not to keep too many books on my nightstand or else I go to sleep and wake up feeling inadequate. Lepionka is such an assured writer, with complete narrative authority from the first line. Stuff is spilling out onto the floor. Just in the most accessible layer: What if we are? As I walked and walked the sun sets slowly. The shadows of the trees grew longer and longer swallowing my short lonesome shadow.
Startled by the howling holes and the hooting owls in the jungle I slowly began to pick up my pace. The jungle reeked of fresh blood from families that fled from the village. Frightened and tired I finally encountered a group of people from my village, and thankfully my family was there. Finally united with my family, the group leader suggested for us to rest for they day. Waiting for food to be served our mother came with a bowl of rice. This reminded me of the days where our mother and father were always working on the field to put food on the table.
One bowl of rice and three young starving souls at home. After my brother took one bite of rice he would leave the rest for me and our little sister. My mother finally came and set next to us with a bowl of rice. Facing down I stared at the rice, while tears were dripping down from my eyes. My little sister crawled up to me and wipes my tears and told me not to cry otherwise I will make the rice salty. My father told me I did my best carrying him halfway and not leaving him behind. Another hand, which was my mother, slowly caressing my hair and told me that my brother is in a better place.
I want him to know that if I had the strength of an elephant. Sitting next to a tall tree I tried recalling what he had mumbled to me. I closed my eyes as the leaves on the trees were rustling. If you wait and look beyond the horizon where the water strolls down, then to your right is Thailand. Crickets chirping while I fell asleep next to the hollow tree. Until this day it still haunts me. Traumatized by the faint breathing on my back. His arms over my shoulder. The thick red blood on my shirt and the continuous coughs. I sat there and weep that entire morning.
Slowly I overcame that sadness of my brother's death and continued on with my life. To all of our backers, I would again like to thank you for your patience as we complete this project. We have completed 30 interviews and have set a goal to complete another 40 at the beginning of the school year. If we stay on pace we should be able to get the book ready for distribution for the Christmas season. One other update, as we have been conducting the interviews the project has morphed slightly.
While the main focus will be on Hmong stories of immigration reasons for immigration as well as experiences in America we have found that these stories mirror the experiences of other Minnesota refugees like those found in the Karen and Somali community. For that reason we have expanded our net and are collecting stories from these groups as well.
Below you will find one of the stories that will be included in the book. The story comes from an interview conducted by one of our tenth grade Karen students who interviewed his grandmother. I opened my eyes, found myself lying on wooden plank without a blanket. Suddenly, I remembered my two daughters are out in a praying service to watch movie. I expected them to come home by now.
With the consent of his parents and the aid of his friends, the abductor would accost his bride and take her to a barn away from the home, as superstition held that pre-marital intercourse might bring bad luck to the house. This means that about five percent of current marriages in Kyrgyzstan are cases of 'Ala Kachuu'. I am such a slow reader that once, while nursing twins, a thought arrived: These two individuals are not only the smartest people I know, they are the smartest people anyone knows. So we are talking about id, ego and superego books. I much prefer reading to writing: As the father of the woman's child, the man can claim her as his wife.
Lying on the wooden plank, I waited for my two daughters to show up. The longer I waited, the bigger my heart grew. After 30 minutes of long horror, waiting for my daughters to show up, I picked myself up, walked to the front door and put my flip flops on. I walked to a place where my daughters were watching the movie. The sun had not yet risen and I heard dogs bark from a distance.
I saw my daughters, they were watching the movie. Suddenly the Burmese soldiers were running while firing their guns in the air.
Bride kidnapping
They were rushing to surround us. No one dared to scream. I rushed to my daughters as fast as I could; my daughters were by my side and we were scared that our lives might end there. They told us to stay down - we were not allowed to stand up. One of the soldiers grabbed a woman who looked around 18 years old. The soldier then put a knife to her throat.
Ib Pluag Mov
He asked the woman if she was hiding any weapons the Burmese soldier were originally in village searching for the Kaw Thu Lei, which are Karen soldiers. He threatened to slit her throat and asked her once again if she was hiding any weapons or soldiers inside the village, even though she wasn't hiding any of them. There were around 70 armed Burmese soldiers and 10 hostages who were forced to carry stuff for them. More than 30 of us were captured; four Karen soldiers were captured and killed.
They then round us up, point us with guns and lead us to the big village to the church.
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- Thao (Author of The Tenth Month);
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We stopped underneath the church and stay there for a long time, the soldiers were surrounding us. Some Burmese soldiers' stole some of the villagers' foods and belongings. The Burmese soldier said they are going to burn the church and pretend that we were just woods. They kept us underneath the church until noon.
There were two Karen elders that came and asked the Burmese soldiers to release us. One of the elders said that they are good people, they are my villagers. The Burmese soldiers and two elders made an agreement.
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Then, the Burmese soldiers released us. They brought us back to our village with guns pointing at us but afterwards my heart cooled down like ocean had covered up the searing flames. In Thailand, inside the refugee camp, whenever I hear dog barks, I'm always feared that the Burmese soldiers were coming. To all our contributers, we apologize for the delay.