|
“TOP TEN MUST-READ BOOKS of 2010” —The Boston Phoenix
“WELL READ: Best of 2010” —Tobias Carroll at Vol.1 Brooklyn
“Lindsay Hunter makes drunk teenagers dry-humping in Cheeto dust compelling literary fare.” —The Boston Phoenix.
“The stories in Daddy’s don’t flash. I think it’s more accurate to say that they poke. These are wicked little works of fiction with sharp edges and unpleasantly squishy middles. This is the kind of fiction I can’t get enough of.” —Bitch Magazine
“2010 Best in Lit: Small Press” —Amber Sparks at Big Other
“Top Ten Small Press Books of 2010” —Kyle Minor at Dzanc Books
“How even to speak of these tiny gothic gems? With adjectives, perhaps: mean, lewd, fierce, unapologetic.” —Kyle Beachy at St.Louis Magazine
“These stories don’t shock for shock’s sake. Hunter weaves a tight world around these marginal characters, a world in which their relationships and behaviors seem inevitable or, even scarier, logical.” —Ryan Rivas at Pilot Books
“Lindsay’s language is somehow both frightening, gut-bunching, weirdo, home, cover your face, open your mouth, transcendent, and of heaving sound. At times like if Gummo turned into words and date-raped Mary Gaitskill’s language then went to the gas station to buy tissues to clean up the messies and bought you a snack of discount heat lamp chicken.” —Interview with Blake Butler at HTMLGiant.com
“A thrill ride from one horrific, pitch-perfect, mad-sick moment to the next.” —Vol.1 Brooklyn
"These are powerful stories, the twists and turns that Lindsay Hunter takes, away from the expected, down roads we usually pass up, preferring to avoid that dusty, bumpy ride, wanting to skip the rotting, musky scent of a decomposing skunk by the roadside, instead, staying on the highway, where everything flies by in a blur, and nothing has to hurt."—Review at The Nervous Breakdown
“Let me be clear: You should buy a copy of Daddy's immediately and spend some time in its world.” —Spencer Dew at decomP
"Lindsay Hunter was fast, funny and cool. She read a piece with vomit, diarrhea, sex (lesbian, I think), neck fat, a half-chub, chicken, testicles (in a man's mouth), more vomit, and blood." —Stories & Beer Reading Review: Smile Politely
Lindsay Hunter's Recommended Reading.
“You like stories about giant jealous babies? Ghost dogs in the desert? Anorexic bullies? Masturbation? Competitive eating? Serial killers? Sex and loneliness? If so this is the book for you.” —Self Interview at The Nervous Breakdown
Lindsay Hunter gets called 'fast'. It won't be the last time. Read the interview! —Newcity Chicago
“If Help is the alpha of Southern Lit, Daddy's is the omega. A brilliant little book of 24 little stories, mostly funny, sexy, and low rent. Kinky enough to impress your weirdest friends and your mother too.” —Paul at Prairie Lights Bookstore
“I didn’t meet Lindsay Hunter; so much as her fiction ran me over. ” —Three Guys One Book
Daddy's in NYLON Magazine. The (October) "IT" Girl issue featuring Lindsay Hunter and Amelia Gray.
“In Daddy’s, babies mean blood and nipples are like “lit match heads.” Lindsay Hunter transgresses where others fear to tread.” —Terese Svoboda, author of Pirate Talk
“Each tiny, diamond story—precise, comic, poised at the edge of surreal—contains one brutal life force tearing itself off the page. You can hold Daddy’s in your hands and feel it breathing.” —Deb Olin Unferth, author of Vacation
“Lindsay Hunter won’t be caught lie-telling in the name of nice. The miniature stories in Daddy’s are fierce and unapologetic. When the We’s she voices say the axblade was bloody with dirt, what they mean is the neighbor’s swingset creaked and moaned next door and we heard
a child’s voice say Never ever. When I’m looking again for my next undoing, I’ll crack open Daddy’s, and get the true news they tell us we’d be better off not hearing.”
—Kyle Minor, author of In the Devil’s Territory
Interview at Newcity.
| Daddy's
By Lindsay Hunter
“Each tiny, diamond story—precise, comic, poised at the edge of surreal—contains one brutal life force tearing itself off the page. You can hold Daddy’s in your hands and feel it breathing.” —Deb Olin Unferth, author of Vacation September 2010. You ever fed yourself something bad? Like a candied rattlesnake, or a couple fingers of antifreeze? Nope? You seen what it done to other people? Like while they’re flopping around on the floor you’re thinking about how they’re fighting to live. Like while they’re dying they never looked so alive? That’s what Daddy’s is like. In this collection of toxic southern gothics, packaged as a bait box of temptation, Lindsay Hunter offers an exploration not of the human heart but of the spine; mixing sex, violence and love into a harrowing, head-spinning read that’ll push you a little further toward flopping.
|
|
