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A groundbreaking collection of experimental short fiction by award-winning Syrian author and Booker International Prize for Arabic Fiction nominee Shahla Ujayli, A Bed for the King’s Daughter uses surrealism and irony to examine such themes as women’s agency, the decline of collective life and imagination under modernity, and the effects of social and political corruption on daily life. In “The Memoir of Cinderella’s Shoes,” Cinderella uses her famous glass slipper as a weapon in order to take justice into her own hands. In “Tell Me About Surrealism,” an art history professor’s writing assignment reveals the slipperiness of storytelling, and in “Merry Christmas,” the realities of apartheid interfere with one family’s celebration. Through twenty-two short stories, Ujayli animates—with brevity and inventiveness—themes relevant to both the particularities of life in the Arab world and life outside it.

A bighearted memoir of fidelity and forgiveness, A Beginner’s Guide to Faults draws on the language of geology to explore fault lines in a long marriage—deep fractures formed by unmet needs, quiet betrayals, and the human longing for connection and freedom.

After twenty-five years of marriage, Denice is blindsided when her husband reveals his romance with a Las Vegas stripper. This latest move in their tit-for-tat game of infidelity is too much for her. She files for divorce and heads to South Dakota, where she hopes to fulfill her wildest fantasies. Instead, plagued by guilt about her own faults, she wrecks each new relationship, convinced that she is unforgivable.

Through fleeting romances and soul-deep self-reflection, Denice rebuilds a life and a family on her own terms. A Beginner’s Guide to Faults is a memoir of transformation—one that shows how love can change without ever being lost.

A bighearted memoir of fidelity and forgiveness, A Beginner’s Guide to Faults draws on the language of geology to explore fault lines in a long marriage—deep fractures formed by unmet needs, quiet betrayals, and the human longing for connection and freedom.

After twenty-five years of marriage, Denice is blindsided when her husband reveals his romance with a Las Vegas stripper. This latest move in their tit-for-tat game of infidelity is too much for her. She files for divorce and heads to South Dakota, where she hopes to fulfill her wildest fantasies. Instead, plagued by guilt about her own faults, she wrecks each new relationship, convinced that she is unforgivable.

Through fleeting romances and soul-deep self-reflection, Denice rebuilds a life and a family on her own terms. A Beginner’s Guide to Faults is a memoir of transformation—one that shows how love can change without ever being lost.

To many foreigners, Colombia is a nightmare of drugs and violence. Yet normal life goes on there, and, in Bogotá, it's even possible to forget that war still ravages the countryside. This paradox of perceptions—outsiders' fears versus insiders' realities—drew June Carolyn Erlick back to Bogotá for a year's stay in 2005. She wanted to understand how the city she first came to love in 1975 has made such strides toward building a peaceful civil society in the midst of ongoing violence. The complex reality she found comes to life in this compelling memoir.

Erlick creates her portrait of Bogotá through a series of vivid vignettes that cover many aspects of city life. As an experienced journalist, she lets the things she observes lead her to larger conclusions. The courtesy of people on buses, the absence of packs of stray dogs and street trash, and the willingness of strangers to help her cross an overpass when vertigo overwhelms her all become signs of convivencia—the desire of Bogotanos to live together in harmony despite decades of war. But as Erlick settles further into city life, she finds that "war in the city is invisible, but constantly present in subtle ways, almost like the constant mist that used to drip down from the Bogotá skies so many years ago."

Shattering stereotypes with its lively reporting, A Gringa in Bogotá is must-reading for going beyond the headlines about the drug war and bloody conflict.

African-American women fought for their freedom with courage and vigor during and after the Civil War. Leslie Schwalm explores the vital roles of enslaved and formerly enslaved women on the rice plantations of lowcountry South Carolina, both in antebellum plantation life and in the wartime collapse of slavery. From there, she chronicles their efforts as freedwomen to recover from the impact of the war while redefining their lives and labor. 

Freedwomen asserted their own ideas of what freedom meant and insisted on important changes in the work they performed both for white employers and in their own homes. As Schwalm shows, these women rejected the most unpleasant or demeaning tasks, guarded the prerogatives they gained under the South's slave economy, and defended their hard-won freedoms against unwanted intervention by Northern whites and the efforts of former owners to restore slavery's social and economic relations during Reconstruction. A bold challenge to entrenched notions, A Hard Fight for We places African American women at the center of the South's transition from a slave society.

“So much is so skillfully crammed into this little book that the reader comes to admire Pratt’s zest while wondering how she could possibly have endured. . . . A splendid introduction by Molly Gloss, author of The Jump-Off Creek, enhances the book with a biography of the author and a study of her writings.” —Oregon Historical Quarterly

In 1911 Alice Day Pratt, single and nearing forty, boarded a train and left the east coast to file claim on 160 acres of land in the Central Oregon high desert. She was one among tens of thousands of people who took up homesteads in the arid West in the early twentieth century. Perhaps as many as 20 percent of these settlers were single women. Yet homesteading women are largely missing from the literature and histories of the West.

The commonly held image of frontier women as powerless and dependent helpmates stems in part from the scarcity of written accounts by homesteading women. Alice Day Pratt’s powerful memoir presents a rare, fascinating account of the life of a woman homesteader and chronicles her single-handed efforts to overcome the obstacles that faced all homesteaders—men and women—in the dryland West.

Pratt’s independent and adventurous spirit allowed her to hang on to her “homesteading dream” for more than a decade after most other homesteaders had packed their belongings and left the desert. By exploring the life she lived and the choices she made, Pratt offers an important glimpse into the social and cultural history of the American West.

Polly Adler's “house”—the brothel that gave this best-selling 1953 autobiography its title—was a major site of New York City underworld activity from the 1920s through the 1940s. Adler's notorious Lexington Avenue house of prostitution functioned as a sort of social club for New York's gangsters and a variety of other celebrities, including Robert Benchley and his friend Dorothy Parker. According to one New York tabloid, it made Adler's name “synonymous with sin.”

This new edition of Adler's autobiography brings back into print a book that was a mass phenomenon, in both hardback and paperback, when it was first published. A self-consciously literary work, A House Is Not a Home provides an informal social history of immigrant mobility, prostitution, Jewish life in New York, police dishonesty, the “white slavery” scare of the early twentieth century, and political corruption. 

Adler's story fills an important gap in the history of immigrant life, urban experience, and organized crime in New York City. While most other accounts of the New York underworld focus on the lives of men, from Herbert Asbury's Gangs of New York through more recent works on Jewish and Italian gangsters, this book brings women's lives and problems to the forefront.

A House Is Not a Home is compellingly readable and was popular enough to draw Hollywood's attention in the early 1960s—leading to a film starring Shelley Winters as Adler. The book has been largely forgotten in the ensuing decades, lost both to its initial audience of general readers and to scholars in women's studies, immigration history, and autobiography who are likely to find it a treasure trove. Now, with a new introduction by Rachel Rubin that contextualizes Adler's life and literary achievement, A House Is Not a Home is again available to the many readers who have come to understand such “marginal” life stories as a special refraction of the more typical American success narrative.

Polly Adler's “house”—the brothel that gave this best-selling 1953 autobiography its title—was a major site of New York City underworld activity from the 1920s through the 1940s. Adler's notorious Lexington Avenue house of prostitution functioned as a sort of social club for New York's gangsters and a variety of other celebrities, including Robert Benchley and his friend Dorothy Parker. According to one New York tabloid, it made Adler's name “synonymous with sin.”

This new edition of Adler's autobiography brings back into print a book that was a mass phenomenon, in both hardback and paperback, when it was first published. A self-consciously literary work, A House Is Not a Home provides an informal social history of immigrant mobility, prostitution, Jewish life in New York, police dishonesty, the “white slavery” scare of the early twentieth century, and political corruption. 

Adler's story fills an important gap in the history of immigrant life, urban experience, and organized crime in New York City. While most other accounts of the New York underworld focus on the lives of men, from Herbert Asbury's Gangs of New York through more recent works on Jewish and Italian gangsters, this book brings women's lives and problems to the forefront.

A House Is Not a Home is compellingly readable and was popular enough to draw Hollywood's attention in the early 1960s—leading to a film starring Shelley Winters as Adler. The book has been largely forgotten in the ensuing decades, lost both to its initial audience of general readers and to scholars in women's studies, immigration history, and autobiography who are likely to find it a treasure trove. Now, with a new introduction by Rachel Rubin that contextualizes Adler's life and literary achievement, A House Is Not a Home is again available to the many readers who have come to understand such “marginal” life stories as a special refraction of the more typical American success narrative.

Virtually unknown outside of her adopted hometown of Cleveland, Ohio, Jane Edna Hunter was one of the most influential African American social workers and progressive activists of the early to mid-twentieth century.

In her autobiography A Nickel and a Prayer, Hunter presents an enlightening two-part narrative that recollects her formative years in the post–Civil War South and her activist years in Cleveland. Published in 1940, Hunter’s autobiography recalls a childhood filled with the pleasures and pains of family life on the former plantation where her ancestors had toiled, adventures and achievements in schools for African American children, tests and trials during her brief marriage, and recognition and respect while completing nursing training and law school. When sharing the story of her life as an activist, Hunter describes the immense obstacles she overcame while developing an interracial coalition to support the establishment of the Working Girls Home Association (later, the Phillis Wheatley Association), a progressive institution intended to house and help unmarried African American women and girls, and nurture its growth from a rented home that provided accommodations for twenty-two women to a nine-story building that featured 135 rooms.

This new and annotated edition of A Nickel and a Prayer includes the final chapter, “Fireside Musings,” that Hunter added to the second, limited printing of her autobiography and an introduction that lauds her as a multifaceted social activist who not only engaged in racial uplift work, but impacted African American cultural production, increased higher education opportunities for women, and invigorated African American philanthropy. This important text restores Jane Edna Hunter to her rightful place among prominent African American leaders of the twentieth century.

Genre-bending stories of the cosmos and the worlds within our own skin

Blending fairy tale and science fiction with the otherworldliness of adolescence, A Preponderance of Starry Beings is a collection for anyone preoccupied with looking skyward. These stories probe the experience of coming of age on the outskirts of the universe, whether that be a small Midwestern town or a distant galaxy, and of weighing earthly obligations against the vast promises of space.

In a sleepy Ohio neighborhood, two girls seek refuge from their homophobic schoolmates in an antiques shop filled with Star Trek memorabilia. On a generation spaceship, children revolt against their parents’ plans to colonize a distant world. Deep in the Florida Everglades, seven sisters must protect their otherworldly mythology when two men arrive to fix the family automobile.

A Preponderance of Starry Beings invites us into a mundane and whimsical world of night islands, small towns, and faith lost and found, where a safe landing matters less than taking the leap.

Here is a finely crafted collection of stories about women who have arrived at awkward edges in their lives. Some are adolescents, some at the brink of old age, and some find themselves suddenly ill or pregnant. Others come to the abrupt discovery that their marriages are not as whole as they had believed, while a few tumble onto startling secrets. But despite their range in age and situation, they all try to use their new knowledge to stitch together a fresh pattern by which to live. 

While most of the action unfolds along the East Coast—in Maryland, Maine, Boston, Philadelphia, New York—several of the women travel to Arizona, California, and Jamaica. Often the light is too bright in these glittery places and they wonder why they have come. Many seem to be searching for a sense of home, which one girl describes as a place that is “complete and full of longing all at once.” 

Yet this desire for a personal territory, a point of constancy, is not necessarily rewarded: in this book, separations lead to divorce, sisters continue to misread each other, cancers kill. Still, the women refuse to turn their gaze away from what the world has thrown in their path. Often as not, they pick it up, wonder at it, test its relevance, and continue on, not happier perhaps, but certainly more knowing. 

With humor and insight, Charlotte Bacon illuminates the unexpected ambiguities of women's lives. A Private State marks the arrival of an extremely talented writer.