The most amazing thing about reading a snippet, a book, a tome of poetry is that you can find something intriguing for which you may not have been looking. Alice Bolin’s Motel Diary is exactly one of those books that grab you from the start, with detrimental verse, poisonous words that haunt the author and reader to the core. The thoughts are erratic; the desperation is staggering and dizzying. Bolin paints a once blissful life with regret and sadness.
The narrative bounces from hands-on shame due to old secrets—ones that are unspeakable and stained by revelations—to mysterious hunts towards the unattainable. The author’s personality is palpable in the prose. Her dissent against the dark side of humanity, one that can be saved, but refuses to admit to the need, becomes apparent in every calculated word.
No part of this book is contrived; no breath is wasted. The natural sigh of life resides in the voice that has brought you Motel Diary. Pieces of yourself will blend with the words and letters until you, yourself, feel entwined within the dreamlike revelry that pulls at each and every heartstring.
Grab a copy from Poor Claudia!