Linda Lee Harper

Dear Friends,
Main Street Rag Publishing Company has decided to publish one of my short stories in Aftermath. The book is scheduled for release this December and will sell for $14.95, but you can get it now for only $8.50 + shipping by placing an Advance Discount order from the Main Street Rag Online Bookstore or, if you are more inclined to pay by check, they are $12.50 each, including tax and shipping. You may mail your check to Main Street Rag Publishing Company, PO Box 960100, Charlotte, NC 28227. Please remember that ordering in advance does not mean you will receive the book prior to the release date listed on my Authors’ Page.
Please visit the Authors’ Page for details: http://www.mainstreetrag.com/Aftermath.html
MSR Online Bookstore
Coming Soon Page
Thank you,
(Your Name)

Sixteen poems which make lyrical observations about what we see when we leave home

In an era when poets often seem to want to mention in passing that they know a street name in Budapest or an art piece in the museum at Fez, Linda Lee Harper gracefully-sometimes humorously-returns us to the world of people and places we know. Kiss, Kiss is our lives-our neighbors, aunts, lovers, our work and recreation where we find good and bad, and muddle through somehow. "Oh yes," we say poem after poem, "I had forgotten." What a delight these living poems are.
Paul Allen, author of AMERICAN CRAWL (UNT Press, 1997 winner of the Vassar Miller Poetry Prize)

Forthcoming from Cleveland State University Poetry Center

2007 Cleveland State University Poetry Center’s Open Competition Winner, chosen from among 658 manuscripts entered in this year’s contest by 625 poets.

1995 Word Works, Winner of Washington Prize in Poetry

“The narrator, intensely aware of her characters’ specific joys and pains, comments on the complex interweaving of fate, hubris, and final self-knowledge in Toward Desire’s rich brocade of voice and event. Accounts of family violence, love, betrayal, and redemption achieve the feel of myth.”

Adastra Press, 1999

"Thinner, denser and tight, tight, tight is Linda Lee Harper’s The Blue Flute. Harper’s images hit you like a hit and run driver. Sure there are a few abuse poems here, but Harper is not harping on the abuser, nor wailing from scars left behind. Her poems are more like takes from Polanski’s Chinatown. The evil seeps out of them, sometimes seconds, sometimes hours later, like a black eye or a bruise surfacing. I love the ominous third persons, the hims and hers of many of the poems. These are not poems about Harper, so much as they are about anyone. The title when discovered, is sharper than other images before it, like ' ...and the two of them drove off/ into the sunset orange as Gulf Oil signs... ' or ' ...like ice you seethe with latent heat... '"