What the spirits, animas, hold tender
A review of Whiskey Tender, a memoir of dislocation and re-integration
A review of Whiskey Tender, a memoir of dislocation and re-integration
Detective Inaya Rahman brings her signature empathy and experience to two complex cases
A semi-dystopic near future feels too familiar in Helen Phillips’ novel, Hum
Anthology explores the quest for acceptance by Black women, gender nonconforming and nonbinary people in nature
Ojibwe author Byron Graves’ debut novel Rez Ball dribbles its way into awards and honors, as well as readers’ hearts
How a shooting in her neighborhood spurred a writer to action and gave birth to a collaborative artist book
A conversation with publisher Karl Weber on his tribute to Joyce Meskis, the state of publishing and the responsibilities of readers
Robin Walter’s Little Mercy attends close-up to the world around her
Fort Collins-based author-wizard Ramona Ausubel’s most recent novel, The Last Animal, released in 2023 and out now in paperback, makes leaps of imagination across continents and millennia seem perfectly plausible. The story involves single mother Jane, a frustrated grad student in paleobiology, recently widowed; and her two teenage daughters, Eve and Vera, The Last Animal opens with this codependent family unit on a scientific expedition to Siberia where the girls, on a typically boredom-filled afternoon, stumble upon the bones of a 4,000-year old woolly mammoth. That’s just the beginning. Mother and daughters, through a series of subterfuge-fueled moves, end up at an exotic animal farm in Italy where the DNA of their fossil is implanted into an elephant with the goal of resurrecting an extinct species. What happens beyond that is a series of tender, hilarious, heart-rending and suspenseful moments that testify to the unbreakable ties of family, for better or worse, alongside the loneliness and impossibility of thriving without connection. Smart, beguiling, touching and entertaining, The Last Animal peers into our shared animal souls, at once raising pertinent questions about the limits of bioengineering and taking the reader on a helluva good ride. — Kathryn Eastburn