
Poetry, chapbook, 32 pages, from Bottlecap Features.
A feral Goldilocks gnaws bones given her by Mother Bear, a newly-formed woman escapes her creator by sprouting wings and talons, and android women suspect they are not being told the truth. Fairy tales, myth, science fiction, and memory combine and shapeshift. Each of these poems by Sara Amis is a door, and once you pass through the ground may shift suddenly under your feet or you may wake up and learn that a hundred years passed while you were sleeping.
Amis' body of work skips lightly across genres: journalism, creative nonfiction, fiction including science fiction, fantasy, & magical realism, and of course poetry. Both her fiction and poetry include a dash of the surreal even when, perhaps especially when, dealing with the everyday occurrences of life. In Amis' world, there is no such thing as ordinary. Everything is underpinned with a fleeting glimpse of spirit, quantum uncertainty, and the misgiving that what you cannot see, still sees you.
Sara Amis holds an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Georgia, where she also taught for ten years more or less. Her work has appeared in Jabberwocky, The Moment of Change, Stone, River, Sky: An anthology of Georgia poets and The Saturday Evening Post. She lives in a magical village just outside of Atlanta and has one dog, one cat, one offspring, and one husband. She is officially a fiction writer but publishes poetry all the time anyway.