Showing posts with label short stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short stories. Show all posts

Saturday, March 23, 2024

April 3: Erin Pringle brings Unexpected Weather Events to Caveat Emptor

On Wednesday, April 3th, I'll be in Bloomington, Indiana's oldest bookstore, Caveat Emptor. I'll be signing copies of Unexpected Weather Events from 6:00-7:00 PM, followed by a reading from 7:00-8:00 PM.

The stories revolve around rural villages and the surreal relationship among grief, love, and loss. In one story, a child explains a war that now surrounds the cornfields and playground; in another story, a family sells their house after the husband and father dies by suicide. Snow turns to blood, a mass genocide occurs in the stone quarry at the end of a country road. And yet birds still sing, a mother hides oranges in a winter yard, and a widow decorates for Christmas. 

The event is free and open to the public, and I hope you'll be there. 
Caveat Emptor
112 N. Walnut
Bloomington, Indiana 47404 
(https://www.caveatemptorbloomington.com/)
Facebook event link: https://www.facebook.com/events/24915628808082367


Monday, March 18, 2024

Author Reading and Discussion: Erin Pringle at Turner Arts Hall, April 4th, 2024


I grew up attending plays and musicals put on by local high schoolers at Arts Hall, a brick building near the high school that contained the home-ec classes and a modest theatre. Later, I would perform on that stage myself, in The Music Man, Cheaper by the Dozen, and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes--among others. Since those days, I've appeared on that stage only in nightmares in which I've completely forgotten my lines and decide to wing it. I am not quick on my feet in nightmares.

Hopefully, my return to that stage will go much better. I'll be bringing Unexpected Weather Events to Turner Arts Hall on Thursday, April 4th--thanks to the Casey Township Library Friends of the Library group who is sponsoring the event. I'll read from the book, followed by a discussion led by my former high-school English Teacher Mrs. Pierce. Copies of Unexpected Weather Events will be available for purchase. 

The event is free and open to the public, and I hope that you'll join me. 

Turner Arts Hall
306 E. Edgar Avenue
Casey, Illinois
7 PM - 8:30 PM
Thursday, April 4th

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Thursday, February 8, 2024

Erin Pringle shares the backstories at Whispering Stories

I'm happy to announce that I did an interview over at Whispering Stories, and it's now available to read. I talk about my newest book, Unexpected Weather Events, as well as my writing process.  

Would love for you to give it a read and/or share it with the most avid reader in your life. 

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Interview: https://www.whisperingstories.com/interview-with-author-erin-pringle/

Monday, January 22, 2024

You should definitely read Dark Tales by Shirley Jackson

After reading Shirley Jackson’s novel We Have Always Lived in the Castle, I looked for more of her work at my favorite bookstore Giant Nerd Books in Spokane. They didn't have any, so when I returned the next week, I was delighted to find four books of her books waiting. What a wonderful bookstore! So, I figured I ought to start fulfilling my part of the request and purchase Dark Tales—which I quickly devoured. In fact, at times, I would be reading and think how I ought to slow down. Or that it would be so nice to be finished with the book so that I could reread it with the second eye that brings so much more out. Suddenly, my first reading became a preliminary run. 

In my book, that's a sign of an excellent book.

Dark Tales by Shirley Jackson is a selection of stories from her previous collections and several unpublished works. The book is fantastic, every story a careful and ingenious work of art. If I’d realized upon purchase that the book wasn’t one of her original collections, I likely would have paused to read her collection The Lottery, which is already in my queue. Regardless, I will enjoy encountering these stories again, whether by rereading this collection or stumbling upon them in the collections she gathered during her lifetime. I will not keep you in suspense: this is definitely a book to read, no matter your preferred genre or style.

Every. Single. Story. Is. Fantastic.

The stories range from first-person to third-person, but the majority of them are told in third. The ordering of the stories is well done—each story complementing the one before it, whether in tone, subject matter, speed, or length.

All of the stories turn in the end, usually in an unexpected but earned way—much like the episodes in Twilight Zone. She very much could have written for the program, and one can easily imagine Shirley Jackson and Rod Sterling sitting by a fireplace trading cigarettes and stories.

In these “dark” tales, dark stands in for strange, unexpected, slanted. None are gory or gross, none are horror or require nail-biting in suspense. No, these are almost like illusions—where one expects ground, it turns out to be the reflection of ground—where one reaches into a hat for a rabbit and pulls out a smile. 

Because the stories absolutely function on the way they twist, I’ll simply note a few favorites and leave the rest to come alive to haunt you.

My absolute favorite is “Louisa, Please Come Home,” the story told by a young woman about how she ran away, how very well she planned it, and how all worked out swimmingly—from taking the bus instead of walking, to purchasing a plain raincoat that looked like anyone’s raincoat, to wandering the bus station late at night with other college-aged girls. Her trick, she believes, is to imagine herself as others like her and then to think like them. She finds a room in a house to rent and follows the news of her disappearance, which varies from kidnapping to murder. In one poignant moment, she and her landlady are having breakfast and the girl’s picture is in the newspaper. The girl remarks that she looks a lot like the picture, and her landlady waves her off and says not to be so self-absorbed. Ha! But it is not simply the telling of a well-executed plan but an exploration into the anonymity we all experience without trying:

“It’s funny how no one pays any attention to you at all. There were hundreds of people who saw me that day, and even a sailor who tried to pick me up in the movie, and yet no one really saw me.” 

This not-seeing—this fact of our being like so many others—becomes a terrifying reality toward the story’s end.

In another story, “The Story We Used to Tell,” two friends find themselves transported from a house into an old picture of the house. When the first friend disappears, she is searched for but the case of her whereabouts soon abandoned. Her friend insists that a few more days be given before giving up and that night she sleeps in her friend’s bedroom:

“The full moon had turned into a lopsided creature, but there was still moonlight enough to fill the room with a haunted light when I lay down in Y’s bed, looking into the empty windows in the picture of a house. I fell asleep thinking miserably of Y’s cheerful conviction that the old man was loose in the picture, plotting improvements.” 

When the friend also becomes consumed by the picture, she and her friend encounter a strange dancing couple who harass them and dance with them. This story is one of the darker visions in the book and is threaded with vivid, nightmarish imagery with a turn at the end that invites, if not requires, the reader to begin again.

Many times, I felt myself hearkening back to Patricia Highsmith's Collected Stories because of the variety in this collection and its particular focus on the house as an intimate space, such as the story of Highsmith's in which a young woman is tidying her house for her sister's visit, or in another in which a person continually buys parakeets and gives them to all the people who post "lost parakeet" signs in the city. All seems fine but nothing is actually fine.

In Dark Tales, Jackson walks Jack the Ripper into a bar, playing the role of a man worried about a girl slumped drunk in an alley; in another story, a wife imprisoned in her bedroom by a jealous husband has accepted her fate; in a short but memorable story about a college girl stealing small objects from her roommates, the ironic importance secrets play in creating community becomes laid bare. 

All told, these are stories to be told again. They are all quite readable, the style consistently beautiful but clear, the insights sudden and thought-stopping, and the variety of tales makes for a well-rounded trip through the halls of Jackson’s stories. I recommend Dark Tales this in every way and would hope the book or any one of its tales be included in literature classes. None of Jackson’s work appeared in any undergraduate or graduate literature course I took, though clearly should have—this is simply, and unquestionably, writing of the highest caliber. 

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Monday, January 1, 2024

Standing Atop Chronicle Building with my book Unexpected Weather Events

 


On Thursday, February 22, I'll stand on the rooftop of Spokane's Chronicle Building at 7 PM--with my book, on purpose, and for the Spokesman Review event Northwest Passages. I'll read a story or part of one, and then Shawn Vestal will join me in discussion about Unexpected Weather Events. I am told it is a beautiful, intimate setting. Is it enclosed? I do not know. Will we shiver together despite scarves and coats? Will I tie a rope around my waist and offer the other end to Shawn, to prevent either of us from falling over the edge while daydreaming?

I'm honored to be part of the Northwest Passages series and am curious to discover what it's all about. That I'm investigating as the featured author instead of an audience member will present some obstacles, no doubt, but I hope that you'll join me there and help me to fill in any gaps I could not observe. Perhaps you could bring a chalk bag and sturdy climbing shoes. The one time that I did try to climb the side of a cliff, many years ago, I dangled far more than I clung. But I believe I was in college, hung over and had no knowledge that I had a core, much less a strong one. 

I think I'll do much better this go round.

For more information about the event and to order tickets, visit https://www.spokesman.com/northwest-passages/events/unexpected-weather-events-by-erin-pringle/

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Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Yes, you should definitely read Ann Beattie's story collection What Was Mine

Cover of my copy of What Was Mine by Ann Beatie

It has been about a year since I first picked up Ann Beattie's short story collection What Was Mine (1991). I can't remember where I bought it, and the bookmark that fell out of it is from a bookstore in a town I've never been to. Regardless, I'm glad that I own it and that I pursued the stories over all of this time. I've never read Ann Beattie before, so it's a lovely surprise to learn how much I love her writing and that, luckily, there is much else by her to be explored. 

I finished the last story of the collection this evening. The collection holds twelve stories, and each follows a character often reflecting on his or her life and the unpredictable pathways that, jutting this way and that, have somehow led to where he or she sits now--divorced, married but restless, in strained parent-child relationships, and the like. 

These are people who, having followed the given scripts of life, now find themselves in an ongoing lull in the script--a sort of blank on-goingness; life continues, taking them with it, regardless of how fulfilled they or their partners, neighbors, or friends are. The stories remind me of Carol Shields writing in tone and subject, and I'm also reminded of this particular poem by Daniel Halpern, "Argument" (of the same time period) in which the voice of the poem is surprised to discover that his wife has become damaged because of her playing of the role of wife. 

In Ann Beattie's story "Home to Marie," a man watches a caterer carry food into his house for a party his wife is throwing, only to find out that there is no party--never was a party--and that his wife is leaving him. The premise of the party was so that he could finally feel as she has for so many years--waiting for him to show up. 

In another story, "Horatio's Trick," a divorcee plays marbles on the kitchen floor with the chocolates her ex-husband's wife has sent--mentally noting the new wife's handwriting and that the previous year the family gift had been in his handwriting; meanwhile, their college-aged son is upstairs on the phone with his girlfriend--the girlfriend went to her own home for Christmas but her dog is in the backyard. The woman feels alone and left out, and every moment of possible connection--whether at a holiday party or in opening presents with her son--ends up in awkward disconnection. She wakes up on Christmas night or early morning to headlights staring into her living room, only to find a car wreck. One driver is drunk, and the other driver's car is caught on her fence; she can tell that there's no way the car can reverse itself out of the accident--despite the intoxicated driver calling out directions to free the car. She thinks of recounting the story to her son in the morning.

My favorite of the stories is "You Know What" in which a man, Stefan, finds himself raising his daughter, working from a home office, and doubting the monogamy of his financially successful wife. He feels constant dread and still is unsure that his wife would have married him if not for becoming pregnant. There's much about her he feels helpless to understand, though he continues to wonder--following the possible causal paths that could help him but don't. Meanwhile, his daughter's classroom rabbit dies, and the teacher has them write goodbye letters to it. Then the school janitor's brother dies, and the teacher has the students write him sympathy cards.

At a parent-teacher conference, Stefan learns that his daughter tells many long-winded stories at school, and that the teacher is concerned--wondering what might lie beneath the stories--some darker truth or inner concerns. Stefan thinks it's a habit from her mother, even though he clearly is the giver of this habit. The teacher shows Stefan the replacement rabbit and says she puts the rabbit in the children's coat closet overnight because the janitor worried about the lights shining in at night and making sleep hard for the rabbit. The teacher assures Stefan, though he has no concern, that she always remembers to bring the rabbit out of the closet in the morning. 

Later in the story, Stefan and his wife become close during a playful date, and he feels momentarily balanced in the relationship. When Stefan receives a phone call that their daughter's teacher has died unexpectedly, he starts to dwell on the classroom rabbit left in the closet overnight, and now all day since no children would be in the classroom. He contacts the janitor. The story ends in the daughter's classroom at night with the janitor and Stefan checking on the rabbit. The rabbit is fine. The janitor removes love letters from the teacher's desk drawer, admitting an affair. There in the dark classroom, in a style reminiscent of Raymond Carver, Ann Beattie has Stefan confess to the janitor that his whole life has felt like a series of accidents:

"McKee," Stefan says, walking beside him, "all my life I've felt like I was just making things up, improvising as I went along. I don't mean telling lies, I mean inventing a life. It's something I've never wanted to admit."

The janitor assures Stefan that he knows what Stefan means. And that's the story. 

I love it. 

I love the unpredictably reasonable turns that the story takes. 

I love the rabbit left in a dark closet and the letters that the teacher has her students write to the dead rabbit. That the teacher's affair with the janitor is the actual impetus for her having the students write sympathy cards--this assignment as love gesture to him through her students' notes.

The story beneath the story.  

The myriad ways to tunnel back into the story once you've read the whole thing.

What I appreciate about Beattie's stories is her care in writing them (nothing is dashed off), the well-put details, the seriousness she allows her characters to have when examining their lives, and how, by the ends, the stories require time to linger and dissipate before readers can step into the next story and world. Any one of the stories want to be lived in. For a while. 

There is humor, darkness, surprisingly methodical turns in the stories. I'm so glad to have read them and to add her to the growing list of writers that I love. I think you will, too.

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Allegory Books and Music, the bookmark in my copy of What Was Mine


Thursday, November 16, 2023

Unexpected Weather Events on Fiction Bestsellers with Small Press Distribution (SPD)


Good news. My short story collection Unexpected Weather Events has made the top twenty list of bestselling fiction for September/October 2023 with Small Press Distribution. And as the book only became available in October, I'll take that as a good sign.

View full list here.

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Unexpected Weather Events is available online and in brick-and-mortar. Please support these locations, especially the one nearest you.

Tuesday, November 14, 2023

Portland, Olympia, and Spokane + African Violets, Baba Yaga, Sharma Shields, and why Erin Pringle doesn't sell vacuum cleaners

Part I. On the Mindset a Book Tour Requires

During my conversation with Neal on KYRS about Unexpected Weather Events before its release, I mentioned that I seem to write books is so that when one is published, I can meet up with friends at the book-release party and various readings and signings that bring us together. Neal raised his eyebrows at the suggestion. Certainly, I don't write for that reason; however, as the writer of books published by lesser known presses in a publishing industry ocean ruled by corporations well versed in the book-game, marketing strategies, and bestseller list tricks, I find that, for me, the only healthy way to think about one of my books once it's published is to think of the experiences and friendships that I will experience while peddling the book here and there. Were I a vacuum salesman, this would not at all be how to think about the business and my progress within it. Although I think sometimes it's an easy mistake to grade a book's value on a vacuum-cleaner sales scale.

My books will never sell as well as any vacuum cleaner. That is fine. 

I'm not the only one to equate their books with excuses to visit with friends, as the annual Association of Writing Programs (AWP) conference is basically a three-day excuse for creative writing professionals (most typically creative writing professors) to congregate in one city's conference hotel in order to have drinks with old friends from graduate school and while they happen to be there, present on a panel or two.

As I am not a fan of cities, hotels, or crowds, and do not teach at a university or any creative writing, I rarely attend. I suppose, though, that with each of my book's publication, I embark on my own version of AWP in the miniature. I am the doll-house version, perhaps. 

Or, more of a Mister Rogers neighborhood version. 

That's it. That's exactly it.

So far, the book-release brought my neighborhood of friends and a few interested strangers together in the Shadle Library for two hours--my favorite neighborhood band played. Midway through October, I drove to Missoula, stopping at Wallace, one of my favorite small towns; in Missoula, I had a chance to reunite with my dear friend Melissa Stephenson as part of the reading at Fact and Fiction Books--in the midst of that, I caught up with her children and enjoyed the company of her dogs, whose lives I've followed over the years of my own. A week later, I drove to Portland and at Annie Bloom's met back up with Mo Daviau having met her in Austin at a Hezada! reading several years ago. (And, like my mother, if I meet you, chances are you'll receive entry into my address book and annual Christmas card list).

Part II. When You Walk into Your Grandmother's House, but It's in Portland, OR not Evansville, IN, and the person living there is named Cee and of no relation to you

African Violets I bought for son
for his birthday; picture taken by me and texted to Cee
to ensure correct identification. Cee said yes and sent a link
to detailed instructions on how to care for them.
While in Portland, I made friends with Cee, the owner of the house housing the bedroom where I stayed; I observed a beautiful classroom at the Portland Montessori School; and I ran in the Run Like Hell race in some park, alongside a body of water and hundreds of strangers in Halloween costumes. Cee and I shared coffee over the dining room table and exchanged stories and thoughts on plants. Cee is a plant expert, and as my grandmother had many plants in her house--also of the era of Cee's house, I had to reminisce about my grandmother. Cee allowed it, having no idea that I don't typically reminisce about my grandmother, her house, or her favorite plant: African Violets. Cee has three wonderful pets, all of whom I hope to visit with again: Potato the dog (with her own social media fan-following), and two cats with less interest in fame likely because, like most cats, they already achieved it in a past life--and thus, believe themselves hitherto deserving of much petting and praise.

Almost Part III. A Few Parentheticals in which I Praise Portland

(Note 1: Why don't we all live in Portland? The trees. The TREES. There were trees everywhere and in all of the places that are treeless in Spokane. It's not fair to compare the two, climate and location and all being so different--but WHY DON'T WE ALL LIVE IN PORTLAND? There are trees growing on the high-rises. I'm not kidding. In Portland, the tops of some buildings are covered in purposely planted mosses and grasses--like you read about. That is, if we have to live in a city--why isn't it Portland?) 

(Note 2: The neighborhood I stayed in was the SAME neighborhood where Beverly Clearly grew up. Beverly Clearly of Ramona the Pest. RAMONA QUIMBY!)

Our faces on Last Word Books door
(Note 3: The trip to Portland also allowed me to visit with two family members who rank in the list of favorites. They came to the reading at Annie Bloom's and brought two friends. Take note: If you are a relative to a writer, always go to the readings and always bring two friends. And maybe ask the two friends to bring two of their friends.)  

Part III. Reading with Rachel King, Olympia, and Old Entryway Tiles

In both Portland and Olympia, I read with writer Rachel King, who I met several years ago because she was the copyeditor of The Whole World at Once; I've since kept up with her writing career. As she lives in Portland, it was Unexpected Weather Events that finally brought our excuse to meet in person. She might have eventually regretted it, though, as I caused her to freeze in Olympia on Halloween night when I suggested we read outside--on the sidewalk running past Last Word Books since that's where everybody would be anyway--on their way to this or that restaurant or party. 

Rachel, Robert (owner of Last Word Books), and I carried the chairs outside together and set them on entryway tiles reminiscent of the entryway tiles to the diner my father took me to as a child. Rachel said she was up for reading outside, but she was cold. Friends, she was cold. Or, at least, when she is cold, she takes the practical step to dress for it. 

Rachel King reading at Last Word Books
on Halloween night 2023
We read from our books to Robert, who sat on a stool across from us. A man joined us and sat through the story I read (Chair, $75 OBO), said a few words, and went on his way. Afterward, Rachel and I said goodbye to Robert and had a good dinner near the warmth of a fireplace we shared with another table where a couple seemed in the midst of falling in love. I tried not to feel extreme guilt for the food trays that Robert had purchased for the event that he forgot about and that we did not use.

All of this is to say that the value of a book tour must be, for me, based on friendship reunions and meeting nice people--for to judge it based on seats filled or the number of books sold would be no different than throwing myself down a rocky hill without a single pillow or first-aid kit waiting at the bottom.

Part IV. So, I'll be there. Sharma will be there. An Invitation

This brings us to this Thursday, November 16th. Beginning at 6:30 PM, I'll be sitting in Wishing Tree Books with Sharma Shields for at least thirty minutes, if not a full sixty minutes. The only other time I have enjoyed that amount of time with Shields was during a KYRS interview that Neal and I did with Shields and Maya Zeller upon their completion of the anthology Evergreen. I have admired Sharma from afar and sometimes nearer than that. She used to host an annual Lilac City Fairy Tales event that I read at one year. I sat in another audience when she gave a brilliant introduction for Roxane Gay at a Get Lit! festival. At the book launch for Unexpected Weather Events, she introduced the event and managed the room and preparations, as in another part of her life, she works as the public library's writing professional (see all the cool events and ideas she has done or is working on here). 

Evergreen anthology cover
She's busy. 

Very.

But thankfully, I published a book, so that is my valid excuse to invite myself to sit beside Sharma Shields at a bookstore and talk to her about stories. Luckily, she agreed to it, so this isn't just me showing up and stealing the chair of a different writer she's in conversation with.

Here's my plan: Sit with Sharma. She'll read a bit of her writing. I'll read a bit of my writing. And then I'll ask her about favorite folk tales and fairy tales because she is exactly the person who will dive with me into the well of such ideas and images and words. She is the only person who has referenced Baba Yaga in a way that made me scream, BABA YAGA!

Because she knows the old woman, too.

V. The Situation: Chairs + Interesting Thoughts

Now, here's the situation. There will be chairs set out for people to sit in. They will be empty until someone sits. One of those chairs is exclusively yours. I would like you to come. I would love it. If you brought two friends or no friends, that's fine. It's going to be a very good event and the discussion will be interesting; you'll leave with thoughts you wouldn't have otherwise. No matter what, I'll be there. Sharma will be there. Maybe you won't buy one book, my book, or Sharma's books. Maybe you'll just come and sit in the warmth of a bookstore on night in early winter. It will be a good, beautiful experience, and I'd love to share it with you. 

November 16, 2023

6:30 PM

Wishing Tree Books

1410 E. 11th Avenue

Spokane, WA

Wishing Tree Books
photo from this article in the Inlander
 

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This is a collection of miniature polaroid pictures
of the dogs that frequent a Portland coffee shop. 

This is the body of water I ran alongside
at the Run Like Hell race. Two points to you
if you can identify it.

View from guest bedroom in Portland,
Potato the dog in the lefthand corner.


Saturday, November 11, 2023

Unexpected Weather Events in Missoula: The Trip in Review. And Kindness

Now that October is over, so too are my book travels until April when I'll be in Illinois visiting family, serving as an officiant for my brother's wedding, and squeezing in a few readings from Unexpected Weather Events while I'm at it.

On October 19th, I found myself driving to Missoula, which if there is ever a time to drive to Missoula, autumn is it. Even the drudgery of interstate travel could not take away from the beautiful changing colors of the trees. 

I stopped in Wallace, Idaho both ways because Blackboard Marketplace is a required stop for my family, or evidently when it's just me. One one end of the downtown building is the cafe that serves the best food I've ever eaten; in the middle is the coffee shop that sells good drip (and fancy espresso drinks if you do that) and in the seating area, floor to ceiling shelves of recent and classic books. At the other end of the building is a clothing store of familiar Northwest hiking fashion. 

Outside Blackboard Market in Wallace, Idaho (photo by me, Erin Pringle)


A moment of writing inside Blackboard Market/Todd's Bookstore and Coffee
Wallace, Idaho (photo by me, Erin Pringle)

Because I'd been driving for a while and then sat more as I wrote over coffee, before returning to the car, I roamed about and found EurekaSally Art Gallery. It was a swell place, and I was especially intrigued by the glass work of Sally J Utley. Thankfully, the artist had small pieces for sale and I took it upon myself to purchase several--as well as a pair of upcycled paper collage earrings by an artist whose name I don't remember. There's an online exhibit of several of the artists that you can view: https://www.eurekasally.com/art-in-the-gallery.html

Artificial tree persisting in a rusty pipe behind a building
Wallace, ID (photo by me, Erin Pringle)

After this, I returned to the road in order to reach Missoula and my friend Melissa Stephenson. And I did reach her and had the chance to reunite with her dogs and lay on my back in the middle of her living room, talking to them and giving good pets. Before the reading, we went to Montgomery Distillery where I remembered watching Melissa give a talk with a few other writers several years back at a Montana Book Festival. 

Montgomery Distillery
Missoula, MT (picture by me, Erin Pringle)

I took a picture of the view, mainly because the moose's severed head was adorned with flowers, which seemed like a strange compromise or gesture on someone's part, and the Mike Meyers severed heads in the plants below seemed an interesting pre-Halloween celebratory choice. But juxtaposition, here we are. 

I then took my head to Fact and Fiction Books where I encountered the empty chairs I'd anticipated but had a good time reading beside Melissa Stephenson--despite (thanks perimenopause) breaking into tears at an especially moving part of my story "Valentine's Day." Thanks to the reader who came to see me and who has been following my career for many years now. I did not think that was possible. There is joy in the quiet of a bookstore of an evening.

Another salve for my sensitive and anxious heart was the interesting and kind bookseller Michael. A writer, reader, and also from Illinois but the upper parts. We figured out the distance from his hometown to mine. Far. Before the reading, he brought me water in a mug that said Woody in the script of Toy Story. I apologized for the turnout, and after the reading, I apologized for the crying. I helped fold the folding chairs and move the book displays back to their positions. Perhaps the ease of wheeling heavy displays of books led to my recent purchase of home bookcases on wheels. I perused the books by the register near where mine was on display, and realized that animal flipbooks are exactly the sort of book my preschoolers would love to look at. Mental note, check. Before I left, Michael asked if he could buy me a book. No one has ever offered such a gift. I accepted and watched him take it from the shelf, ring it up, and hand it to me. People are kind. That's good. 

With my friend Melissa Stephenson standing a few
feet from the exact location where we first met
Fact and Fiction Bookstore/Missoula, MT

Unexpected Weather Events on the counter at Fact and Fiction Books
Missoula, MT (picture by me, Erin Pringle)

The next day, I did some writing at Bernice's Bakery, which is my favorite coffee shop in Missoula and where I've set a series of very short stories that I tell my preschoolers. Their love for the stories has elevated Bernice's Bakery and Missoula in their minds as two VERY IMPORTANT AND FANTASTIC PLACES TO GO, and when I returned to home and school, they were excited to hear about my going. I was excited to return. 

Coffee, muffin, and writing inside Bernice's Bakery
Missoula, MT (picture by me, Erin Pringle)

A cool initiative called United Plant Savers that I saw in a side plot 
beside the building next to Berniece's, so I recorded it
Outside Bernice's Bakery (photo by me, Erin Pringle)

Driving home on I-90

Driving home on I-90


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Unexpected Weather Events is available online and in brick-and-mortar. Please support these locations, especially the one nearest you.


Monday, October 16, 2023

Unexpected Weather Events Ready for Your Winter Book Lists

Thanks to Kzinga Jimenez over at Books of Brilliance for not only listing Unexpected Weather Events on the top eight reads for this winter, but also for setting it among such fine company. About it she writes,

This is another heavy read, and may not be for those who are more empathetic and sensitive to certain issues surrounding death, among other things. But more than anything else, UNEXPECTED WEATHER EVENTS deals with our sense of control – or rather, our illusion of such a thing. Instead, it shows how to weave through the cracks and do our best to fill them with gold, much like the Japanese art and philosophy of kintsugi.

Full article here: https://booksofbrilliance.com/2023/10/10/8-indie-books-to-read-this-winter


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Saturday, October 14, 2023

Meet Us in Missoula: Erin Pringle and Melissa Stephenson at Fact and Fiction Bookstore

This coming Thursday (October 19, 2023), I'll drive to Missoula's Fact and Fiction Bookstore to read from my newest book of stories, Unexpected Weather Events. My good friend Melissa Stephenson will join me, insist on not reading but follow my reading with a thoughtful Q and A. If it's like the last time, anyway. 

The last time I read at Fact and Fiction Books was for Hezada! I Miss You a few weeks after the book's release and before the Covid crisis. We had unwittingly scheduled the reading at the same time as a popular writing event at the university, which made for an intimate audience. Needless to say, I felt terrible that the bookstore had prepared by buying so many copies of Hezada!, much less gone out of their way to set up all of those empty chairs. I helped clean up the space while exuding guilt, shame, and a palpable humiliation. 

But here's my problem. I simply love Missoula. I love Bernice's Bakery. I love the downtown, the ability to walk so many places, the river, and Fact and Fiction Bookstore. Ever since I met it the first time, I fell hard for it. (And wrote about it here.)

Me and my Melissa, 2023
So, when Unexpected Weather Events was due to be published, I asked the good people at Fact and Fiction whether I could return; they agreed. When I told Melissa, she did not share her reservations at my book-reading delusions--because she's a good friend, understands new-book desperation, and knows that we will enjoy our time together in and out of the bookstore. 

Cross your fingers, then. 

And if you're in or near Missoula, I'd love to meet you on Higgins Avenue this Thursday at 7 PM. I'll even fold your chair after you've wandered back into the evening.

Fact and Fiction Bookstore
220 N. Higgins Ave.
October 19, 2023
7 PM


“Deep, rich, and beautiful— Erin Pringle has a knack for capturing the details of daily life as those lives are forever altered: the smell of snow, the surprise cancer diagnosis, the joy of valentines. the lost father, new boyfriend, meanness and kindness, With these stories, she brings clarity to chaos, light into darkness.”
— Melissa Stephenson, author of DRIVEN

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Tuesday, September 19, 2023

Twelve Days Until Book Release: The Countdown Begins

Today begins the official twelve-day countdown to the book release party for my newest story collection Unexpected Weather Events. And so I bring to you 12 blow-mold snowmen, as one of the stories in the new collection features two snowmen decorations that have been in the story's family for several generations:













Hope to see you in twelve days at Shadle Library in Spokane, 2 PM (October 1). 

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Saturday, August 26, 2023

Unexpected Book Events: Release Party at Shadle Library, Spokane


Recently, a number of Spokane libraries underwent large renovations. The main structure may have not lost its main walls, but enough has changed that it's difficult to walk in and remember the original library. Our neighborhood library, Shadle, was one of those. Library construction is likely happening in many places outside of Spokane--adapting buildings to the changing needs of the communities they serve. Our new Shadle Library features a large indoor play area whose accompanying shrieks of delight reverberate from wall to shelf, and would have led every long-ago librarian to faint dead. Children whirling down slides in a library would have been something akin to a librarian's version of Dante's inferno.

Books now sit on portable shelving, here and there stand self-serve kiosks that provide check-out services. Of course, the days of card catalogs are long gone (I'll never get over that), but now the catalog is not only on the computers but also on large touch-screens that are attached to the ends of a few bookshelves. Checking in a book means setting it on a conveyer belt that whips it out of sight and registers your accomplishment on a screen. 

In fact, on Sundays, only a security guard mans Shadle Library, and everyone is left to use the library without the steadfast eye of a librarian. It's bizarre to me, but according to the information board, it's a cost-cutting solution, and according to my son, nothing that calls for surprise.

The previous version of the Shadle library had one meeting room that I remember. Maybe two, but I'm hard-pressed to conjure it. Now, it has several, and one very large one--all with the functionality of a university classroom. Fancy ceiling projectors, drop-down screens, microphones, surround-sound speakers, a bevy of moveable tables and chairs on wheels, as well as a computer set-up that connects to a laptop (yours or the library's) to control all of these gadgets. 

Shadle Library Event Room

Like a perfectly created conference room without stuffy carpet or generically interesting art, the large event room in Shadle Library looks more like a modernist theatre, but with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out into the surrounding park. 

Not only that but library cardholders can also use these event rooms for free. (There are a few exceptions.)

So, as soon as I knew that Unexpected Book Events would appear on October first, I reserved the large event room in Shadle Library for the book-release party. And as I have done the past three book releases, I went about creating the posters, hanging them around town, and adding the event to the various online calendars that residents and visitors sometimes check when they need activity ideas. 

Imagine my complete and utter surprise when months later, a librarian emailed me out of the blue and brought it to my attention that the book-release party could be an official library event, which would add it to the library's public event calendar and event newsletter. It also came with the added support of a person to set up the room. A person to set up the room? And with an hour of leeway included, which means I don't have to pull my wagon of things into the library six minutes before the start of the release party and set the room up with the speed of magic or Mary Poppins.

And that above graphic? All the library's doing. I didn't have to find free online design programs to do it, enter my email for a 30-day trial, spend an hour inserting images and then another hour after the program crashed my browser. I didn't have to send the order through FedEx, only to pick up my order and discover that the black for inserted graphics was a lighter black than the background black. It certainly didn't look like that on my screen. (Okay, I had already done this for the book-release party, but the above graphic I didn't do.)

Just. 

Wow.

I would also like to note that I'm billed as a "local author," which I haven't been before. I've lived here for thirteen years, but I don't think that you can decide when you become "local." 

My first book came out when I was in my sixth year living in Texas--three of those as a graduate student, which renders a status that makes one feel more transient than local. The Whole World at Once came out seven years into my living in Spokane, but five of those years I'd spent raising a small child, which meant I knew the neighbors, Bernie Sanders supporters, and our child's preschool teachers. 

As someone who came out of an MFA program in Texas and not the nearby MFA program, I lived not on the far outskirts of the local writer community but positively out in the boonies--all of my writing people were back in Austin. 

In 2020, Hezada! I Miss You marked ten years of living here, but the whole novel is set in the rural Midwest, which makes claiming "local writer" status seem . . . silly, even if I physically wrote the whole book in Spokane. 

But now, friends, it's 2023. Probably half of the stories in Unexpected Weather Events are set in the Northwest. The other part, of course, is in that rural Midwest that haunts all my work.

All of this is to say that the BOOK RELEASE EXTRAVAGANZA for Unexpected Weather Events will occur on October 1st, 2023 at 2 PM. Shadle Library, Spokane. And you're absolutely invited.

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Wednesday, August 9, 2023

Mczyzniejewski on The Whole World at Once: "Pringle writes haunting, stark narratives that send her characters out to investigate"

My time with Erin Pringle’s stories in The Whole World at Once was well spent. Pringle writes haunting, stark narratives that send her characters out to investigate what they can’t understand, be it a snowy ravine, the death of another, or the imminent death of the self. Curiosity is a solid trigger for any story, and Pringle handles her sleuths with an adept hand, getting close enough to look over their shoulder, though not close enough that we know their names. Mortality, and their existential relationship with it, makes for some tremendous pondering. - Michael Mczyzniejewski from his review of The Whole World at Once

I'm not sure how I missed sharing this wonderful review of The Whole World at Once, my last collection of stories. This review came out in 2020, three years after the book's publication and a few months after my novel Hezada! I Miss You was published (which corresponded with the pandemic). 

I remember reading the review and messaging Michael about it. I maybe even promised to send him a copy of Hezada! but I don't think I did. I guess that was the way of life back then. Covid affecting our physical environments led to a shift in how we stored our memories. Or how I did, anyway. 

Regardless, he said some super awesome words about the stories, and it's damn fine luck when your book falls into the hands of someone who can spin such words and wants to.

It's easy to forget that writing a book is for someone to read--to absorb the feelings and thoughts that you carefully created over so many hours and years and find the experience worthwhile in a way that affirms both your experiences of reality. 

Now it's three years since he posted his review, and I'm back at the point of marketing a new book of stories (Unexpected Weather Events); I'm at the Sisyphus part--at the bottom of the hill, pushing the ten-ton boulder called Publicity up Nobody-Cares hill, yelling about it every step so that readers will emerge from hiding and start whisking the book away. If I'm lucky, a reader will find these new stories worthwhile, too. It's a magnificent bonus when awesome words appear a few years later. 

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