New Voices Sold Out

Issue #22, Winter 2004

In our post-election grief, we find ourselves imagining a future America dominated by beefy white men who consider high culture to be the Rapture novel series and fraternity drinking songs. Luckily for us, we have been busy putting together our Emerging Voices issue, and we are heartened. The future of American fiction and poetry is reflective of the future of the country as a whole: multicultural, gay and straight, young and old, conservative and liberal, and not black and white, not fixed with red or blue solutions, but made up of infinite shades of gray—or if you prefer, purple. The American fiction and poetry of today is spiced with the flavors of Central America, the Middle East, the Far East, and even otherworldly Idaho. At Tin House, we have taken pleasure and pride in discovering new voices, and so an entire issue of the most vital new writers working today seemed like a natural extension of our mission.

James Salter

SUCH FUN • So, anyway, he and I went off - this was before we were married. We had this room with nothing in it but a window and a bed. That's when I was introduced to it.

Rick Demarinis

RASPBERRIES • It wasn't O'Naille on the phone. It as a hysterical woman. "Andy! You've got to get over here right now! He's going to kill me! Please come and hurry!" "Who is this?" I said.

Holiday Reinhorn

Fiction
FUCK YOU • "I don't know you," he said. "But I probably know your mother," I said. Lies can surprise you when they come so easily.

Emily Raboteau

Fiction
BEULAH'S QUILT IN THE HOUSE OF STICKS • He had indeed overturned my desk and was now underneath it, naked, moaning and pushing against the rug with his heels.

Nami Mun

Fiction
BLUE FLY • He tapped his favorite vein, and I kicked the Sterno out from under him. He was so focused on his arm he didn't care about the small fire clinging to his leg.

Jung H. Yun

Fiction
HAN GAHP • The trouble these gifts caused. The dyed and woven clothes with labels that none of the villiage women could read, but always wanted to inspect.

Scott Snyder

Fiction
VOODOO HEART, an excerpt • My girlfriend and I are not rich people - not by a long shot - but we live in a mansion, one of the last real mansions in central Florida.

Vestal McIntyre

Fiction
SAHARA • On my first Saturday afternoon, they sent me out in the kangaroo suit to wave at cars on Northside Boulevard. That's when I got kidnapped.

Daniel Alarcón

Fiction
FLOOD • We spilled onto the avenue and fought like men, side by side with our fathers and our brothers against their father and their brothers. It was a carnival.

Frances Hwang

Fiction
THE OLD GENTLEMEN • Agnes couldn't help but laugh, even though there was a slight pain in it, as with all surprises. How ridiculous that her father should be courting someone across the country.

Jillian Weise

Poetry
LET ME BE RECKLESS WITH THE WORLD LOVE

Maggie Robbins

Poetry
Excerpts from SUZY ZEUS GETS ORGANIZED

Rob Dennis

Poetry
FROM NOWHERE WITH LOVE

Eliot Khalil Wilson

Poetry
FINAL WORDS OF THE UHH MAN
MINNESOTA: CAN'T COMPLAIN

Peter Rock

RYAN HARTY'S BRING ME YOUR SADDEST ARIZONA

Fred Leebron

JOHN DALTON'S HEAVEN LAKE

Chris Offutt

BRET ANTHONY JOHNSTON'S CORPUS CHRISTI

Chris Offutt

JAMES SALTER • Last summer, at the Tin House Writers Conference, Salter and Offutt discussed Salter's early military career, high school classmate named Kerouac, and the source of an extraordinary recent burst of productivity.

Jeff Koehler

THE FALL OF QUINCE • Once sacred to Aphrodite, the quince was so suggestive that newly-weds received the fruit as gifts, but the musky-scented fruit has since fallen into obscurity.