Premonition - by J M Paden (Paperback)

About the Book

A ghost story told in a southern drawl meets a coming-of-age tale steeped in grit and magic, These poems tackle growing pains, abuse, womanhood, poverty, or the ever-near presence of death.

Book Synopsis

A ghost story told in a southern drawl meets a coming-of-age tale steeped in grit and magic, Premonition is both a recollection and a prediction. The poems tackle growing pains, abuse, womanhood, poverty, or the ever-near presence of death. Whether digging up dirt for a vampire boy, hearing a cat's yawn in a father's voice, or laughing at a funeral, the narrator's life isn't always as it first appears. Transformation and memory are at the heart of this collection.

Review Quotes

There's a sense of magic in Paden's poems, but it isn't fake fairytale magic It's the magic found in real experience. Whether it's dealing with a sick parent or an abusive relationship, Paden's poems weave a spell from the hardships found in life. The last section, titled "Rain," shows the reader a cleansing of sorts, but, just like in real life, there's no happy endings. Instead, there's moving forward, which offers uncertainty, along with the hope of a better life.

-Richard LeDue, author of Everyday Defeat and poet

In "Perspective," the opening poem of this collection, Paden writes that "rotation works its own kind of magic." This line could be a thesis on how to read this book. These poems are like pieces of glass that, when turned, change meaning; kaleidoscope perception and understanding; shatter what it is we think we know. Set against an almost mythical deep-southern landscape where religion and superstition collide, this striking collection is rife with transformation. A dirt-eating boy becomes a vampire, a father's voice becomes the yawn of a cat, the name of Jesus both a "prayer" and a "siren" on the speaker's tongue, but the largest transformation (or rotation) of them all, the presence that seems to wait in every pause, is that of death itself. Whether from cancer, car accidents, or simply the seasons shifting into winter, death-and complicated grief-haunts these poems in the form of ghosts, close-calls, cigarette smoke. And running through it all is not necessarily the speaker's wish to avoid it, but the chance, when her time comes, to greet it with softness: "I want to go gently." This collection is a lush, southern stunner that is as haunting as it is haunted.

-Raye Hendrix, author of Fire Sermons (Ghost City Press) and Every Journal is a

Plague Journal (Bottlecap Press)