Author News: Greg Brown

Every year, we nominate our most recent crop of authors for as many awards as possible. It’s one way of passing forward the good fortune we had in publishing them in the first place. This year, we’re proud to announce Greg Brown has been placed on the 2018 Journey Prize Longlist for his short stories ‘Bear’ (Pulp Literature Issue 14) and ‘Love’ (Pulp Literature Issue 16).

Greg Brown is a graduate of the MFA program in Creative Writing at the University of
North Carolina-Greensboro. He is a recipient of UBC’s Roy Daniels Memorial Essay
Prize and you can find his stories, criticism, and essays in Postscript, Paragon, The
RS500, Lenses: Perspectives on Literature, and Tate Street.

The Journey Prize annually recognizes emerging writers for the best short story first published in a Canadian literary journal, and we’re eagerly awaiting the shortlist announcement, September 12th.  Until then, enjoy these excerpts and get a taste of what the Journey Prize jury will pass judgement on in the next month.

Pulp Literature Issue 14, Spring 2017
‘Bear’
Greg Brown

We yawn our way through the ranger’s warning.
“Sure sure,” Dilly says.
“Got it,” I say.
Later, Dilly’s disappeared and I’m staring into a tangle of tree branches and darkness.
The stars in the night sky: glint of teeth.

The teeth are literal teeth: a grizzly bear …

 

 

Pulp Literature Issue 16, Autumn 2017
‘Love’
Greg Brown

We agreed as a family that the only thing to do was to bring Mom home for the next few months or weeks, whatever it would be. It’ll be hard, Dad said. But maybe it can be fine, too. Denisa was suspicious about the cost of it all — like the private nurse we’d have to pay for, where at the hospital it was free — although she didn’t put it like that, said that we’d be crazy to bring Mom into a place where there wasn’t any immediate care, because what if there was a problem like before, the thing with her stent that plugged up and caused some internal bleeding that almost wasn’t staunched in time?

She could’ve, Denisa said.

The oncologist had said October, and the late pale fog had come and now the sky was mostly dimmed and gone by suppertime …

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