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Long live pie: Prairie Lights welcomes Kate Lebo this Friday

Common Place Book of Pie

Have you ever considered what pie best represents you? Are you the tart, but sweet combination of strawberry and rhubarb? Are you the whipped whites or the zest of a Lemon Merengue? And if you can claim a pie as your own, what does that say about you as a person? Does strawberry rhubarb reflect your search for daily balance? Or do you embrace the simple delicacy of Apple Pie? […]

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Lit Scene: Studies abroad

IWP

This past March, four writers boarded a plane for the third millennium. There wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about the vessel in which they traveled, but rather the purpose of their journey. The travelers were literary ambassadors, dispatched to lands that had once embraced the beginnings of civilization, but whose stories are now unsung around most of the globe. These writers ventured to Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan on a creative tour that included readings, lectures and cultural stops along the ancient Silk Road. […]

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Simon Van Booy reading Sunday at Prairie Lights

Van Booy

Let the swooning commence. Literary heartthrob Simon Van Booy is set to yet again grace the podium of Prairie Lights, this time to read from his new novel The Illusion of Separateness. Van Booy is the Frank O’Connor Prize-winning author of the short story collection Love Begins in Winter and his widely-heralded debut, The Secret Lives of People in Love. […]

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Hot Tin Roof: Sorrow House

My first experience with Mercy was in the single stall bathroom in the emergency room lobby. I was 19, high—lost on my way to or from a house party. The lobby air was disorienting; it smelled like lemon, rubber, grief and chicken noodle soup. I remember an overall sense of antiseptic. […]

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Hot Tin Roof: A place you can call home

Waves of amber hit the floor in a sweeping motion, followed by the sound of broken glass. Jerry had dropped his beer, on purpose. The bartender looked up lazily from the glass he was polishing, only to look back down again. The other patrons in the bar continued to stare into their glasses, uninterested in any interruption of their languid meditation. […]

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