Glowing Animals — Amanda Hartzell
Visceral, playful, and lyrical, GLOWING ANIMALS inhabits a place that is both fairytale and startlingly familiar. From grocery stores to outer space, robots to clairvoyants, and marriage to foxes, these poems explore love, motherhood, family, and the siren songs we sing in this strange, unruly world.
Visceral, playful, and lyrical, GLOWING ANIMALS inhabits a place that is both fairytale and startlingly familiar. From grocery stores to outer space, robots to clairvoyants, and marriage to foxes, these poems explore love, motherhood, family, and the siren songs we sing in this strange, unruly world.
Visceral, playful, and lyrical, GLOWING ANIMALS inhabits a place that is both fairytale and startlingly familiar. From grocery stores to outer space, robots to clairvoyants, and marriage to foxes, these poems explore love, motherhood, family, and the siren songs we sing in this strange, unruly world.
Praise for Glowing Animals
“Hartzell has created a radioactive landscape showcased in Glowing Animals. A jigsawed patchwork showing where the natural world dominoes into human experience, Glowing Animals pulls the reader in with a presence that at times feels akin to possession. Illuminated and woven together with reverent hands, the work of Hartzell’s second collection of poetry is necessarily human and a masterclass in the bravery necessary for digging warmth from the walls when none can be found otherwise.”
—Frank Allison, author of Don’t Thank God, Thank the Crash Test Dummies That Came Before You
“In a debut collection that holds together both wilderness and tenderness, Amanda Hartzell's Glowing Animals compellingly asserts itself against forces that try to quiet and tame us. An undercurrent of ecofeminist consciousness calls out to us through this book, bringing forward complex connections between woman, earth, and animals through gripping statements like ‘Parks are named after men and made / real by women.’ Let these defiant poems, which acknowledge the wildness even of saints, guide you into ‘being a bad animal // that digests food alive" and towards hope that "nothing can curse / or claim you.’”
—Megan McDermott, author of Jesus Merch: A Catalog in Poems and Woman as Communion
About the author
Amanda Hartzell is the author of The Heart Never Pretends to Be a Beautiful Muscle. Her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net and appears in Breakwater Review, Carve Magazine, The Knicknackery, and New Letters, among others. She holds an MFA from Emerson College in Boston. Originally from eastern PA, she now lives and writes in Seattle with her husband, two children, and their dog.
