I read Hollis Seamon’s novel Flesh while attending a workshop with her at my MFA residency.  Maybe it was studying with Hollis in the flesh (sorry, had to), or maybe it was hanging out with so many writers for so many days, or maybe it was hearing the awesome faculty readings in the evenings–but I read this novel with an entirely different mindset than usual.   Usually I meander through a story, perhaps enjoying the writer’s use … Read entire article »