New York: Henry Holt, 2004. Stuever's Elsewhere extends through trailer parks, roller rinks, malls no longer sparkling, and suburbs where robot dogs growl and bored children jump off rooftops using Hefty-bag parachutes. Like many collection of essays and short stories, I recommend not reading the book from start to finish, but in parts, or individual essays in no partic Stuever's collection of essays from his days at the Washington Post is witty and provocative. He writes thoughtful, sometimes hauntingly beautiful essays about people, places and things we don't expect to read thoughtful, hauntingly beautiful essays about. You never know quite where Hank Stuever is going to take you. It will be very important for you and other readers in the world.
Some are 1,000 words or so. He has worked for newspapers in Albuquerque and Austin and, since 1999, has covered pop culture for The Washington Post's Style section. Here we were, spending our early 20s doing the journalistic equivalent of stamping license plates--the briefs about car crashes, the announcements of state lotto jackpot winners--and there was Stuever, not much older than most of us, sitting at the Washington Post writing beautiful, lengthy epics about subjects our editors would hardly have considered noteworthy. Funeral homes set up in strip malls. Still, his empathy and his humanity are evident on every page.
Eli Sanders Eli Sanders is The Stranger's associate editor. Off Ramp is the terrific debut of a fresh, humane, one-of-a-kind journalistic voice. He has worked for newspapers in Albuquerque and Austin and, since 1999, has covered pop culture for The Washington Post's Style section. Reader can get many real examples that can be great knowledge. I like talking to people whose lives play out in that homogeneous consumer world, which is most of America. The book is in stock and ships from the rustic nirvana of Peasedown St.
Format it however you want! I'm a Hank freak, in fact. He casts the net wide—and what he catches is a nation gripped by longing, loss, hope and social convention. From Star Wars conventions to credit disasters, from snipers to missing persons, there is always something happening in Elsewhere-and Hank Stuever never misses a scintilla of the action. Gently bruised at the head of the spine and top corners with commensurate ruffling to the dust wrapper. Bookseller: , Japan Picador, 2005. One of the pieces in here, about a ridiculously overblown yet totally arbitrary wedding in New Mexico, is one of the better nonfiction pieces I've ever r is a writer for the Washington Post's Style section.
I could go on, but it wouldn't feel like criticism, it would just feel like whining. Maybe it was the structure, maybe it was the setting. All pages are intact, and the cover is intact. Your mileage may certainly vary. If not, there are plenty of other funny reads out there. Stuever—twice a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize—calls this terrain the American Elsewhere.
He doesn't use flowery writing - no need for a high priestess in any of his stories. He writes thoughtful, sometimes hauntingly beautiful essays about people, places and things we don't expect to read thoughtful, hauntingly beautiful essays about. Stuever's collection of essays from his days at the Washington Post is witty and provocative. The book actually willcontain certain things you need. I generally try to be kind in my reviews but I found this book to be so nauseating that I just had to write a negative review. If you enjoy reading articles that are a constant derision and mockery of others, then this is the book for you.
This was one of the books I got from my trip to Powell's in Portland. Part of this might have to do with translation -- not just translation of language, but translation of personality and culture? In his quiet, gentle way, he records our banalities and triumphs. It has made me a Hank Stuever lover. The spine may show signs of wear. A 30-year-old waterbed store nestled along some rundown highway. He also represents an interesting middle figure in the evolving role of gay authorial voices—the consummate mediator and conciliator—that is lodged between the transgressive stance that writers were forced to take before the gay rights movement had emerged and the largely mainstream and in some places, largely invisible presence that they occupy today. This book was about middle America, the America we don't see on a normal basis.
Although many of his subjects are ridiculous, he treats them with respect. Welcome to the crazy world of storage unit subculture, Texas weddings and the discount funeral industry -- before Six Feet Under made it cool. Newsrooms, it may surprise no one to hear, are filled with people who wish they were creating something more lasting than the day's news, people who say, late at night over beers, that they would rather be real writers. One of the pieces in here, about a ridiculously overblown yet totally arbitrary wedding in New Mexico, is one of the better nonfiction pieces I've ever read. He writes smart, funny, dark essays about skating rinks, cheap funeral parlors, the evolution of the white molded plastic chair, waterbeds, and the differences between K-Mart, Walmart, and Target; he also writes about the Oklahoma City bombing and the space shuttle explosion, and there's a piece about September 11 that will rip your heart out.