Souvenirs

"Some are whimsical, fabulist fictions; others riff on faith and the afterlife. Whatever approach they take, the entries are unexpected and inventive. The stories cut across time, death, and universes." — Foreword Reviews, Starred Review by Camille-Yvette Welsch, March 2022

"More than almost any book I could name, Souvenirs possesses the virtue of re-readability. Its stories move so delightfully and surprisingly, and with such curious effects, that they provoke not only a first look but an immediate second. Before too long, I suspect, they will inspire yet another. The truth is that even while I was staring at them, they refused to stay still. I bet they're stirring again right now."— Kevin Brockmeier, The Ghost Variations: 100 Stories

"Souvenirs puts ancient human questions into insect algorithms and measures distances between us on vector watches: "As we wait for a maelstrom, some angels stir the pool..." Colarusso and Lee are these angels, stirring up language, objects, reflections, and conversations in a delightful, shifting new world." — Kelly Krumrie, prose editor, Denver Quarterly

"Spectral, liminal, cerebral, Souvenirs is a marvelous prose object, a Rilkean memento vivere of speculative fictions deftly, lyrically depicting worlds of words where subjects are objects, presences are absences, where dreams body and words cloud, all of the above also fantastically vice-versaed. Luminous and tenebrous, equal parts Renee Gladman and Jeff VanderMeer, Souvenirs is a field guide to nowhere, to beyond the deep dark, the end of the beginning, that is, to the untethered imagination. Read it and be unboxed!"— John Madera, Nervosities and Among the Dynamos

“A mystical archive, at once whimsical and grave, these dark charms conjured by two contemporary Scheherazades, attempting to forestall world's end, and in communion with the saints: Borges, Calvino, and so many others, linger in the mind. Recalled in a variety of registers, these traces—souvenirs of the dissolving world—so hard to hold—haunt and fill us with longing.”— Carole Maso, Mother & Child

"These twenty-seven pyrocumulonimbus collaborative clouds of Karen An-hwei Lee and Andrew Colarusso move like luminescent, bewildered sea creatures through the "toxic ash" of cyber sea time. They hover like rainwater and clutter our hearts like goose feather. It's a collection born from two amphoral voices. Their union designed to be a "vertical flight" into the unknown and a "rafflesia, the fabulous corpse flower the same height as a little girl."— Vi Khi Nao, A Bell Curve Is a Pregnant Straight Line and The Vegas Dilemma