"As seductive as pressing your ear to the neighbors' door to eavesdrop on their secrets, Kat Meads' stories pull us into the lives of seemingly ordinary people, startling us with what they reveal about our own hidden selves. With lyrical sadness and offbeat humor, Meads peels away her characters' layers of illusion to expose their reality in pristine prose. Not Waving delves into the complexity of plain people who wonder, Is happiness even possible? Their answers are as surprising and human as this magical collection of stories." Marjorie Klein, Test Pattern
"With mordant wit, a gemcutter's nerve, and an open heart, Kat Meads catches her characters as their composure slips and the truth, in all its fun and fury, comes out. Like the salt slap of an unexpected wave, her stories leave you startled, alert, exhilarated, newly conscious that you're alive." Lynne Barrett, The Secret Names of Women
ISBN, trade paper,0-942979-83-4, $13.00 Sale $6.50
ISBN, library edition, 0-942979-84-2, $28.00 Sale $14.00
Kat Meads is the author of four previous novels and several collections of poetry and prose. She last published with Livingston Press writing as Z.K. Burrus. A native of eastern North Carolina, she lives in California and teaches in Oklahoma City University’s low-residency MFA program.
| Excerpt From the
for mourning? The outpouring doesn’t have to be genuine—not in the least. It can
be an act, a very bad act. Inadequate mourners may be precisely what this
expiration deserves. It’s a minimal drain on your time and no drain whatsoever
on your emotions, guaranteed. Little passion to revel in, little if any fineness
of feeling to applaud. (Niggardliness is a theme throughout.) You won’t cry; you
won’t be moved. How could you be by a love/lust/attraction flicker that burned
its brightest (and one-sidedly) during twenty minutes of June? By August—ash.
Heart palpitations, mental machinations and sulky grievances occur (can’t be
helped) and (apologies) a few sketchy details and oversimplified conclusions.
But I’ll be as niggardly as possible with the whys and wherefores. This is an
obituary, after all, not an epic. Maybe not even a romance.