Proprietor

 

Rusty Barnes grew up in rural north­ern Appalachia. He received his B.A. from Mans­field Uni­ver­sity of Penn­syl­va­nia and his M.F.A. from Emer­son Col­lege. His fic­tion, poetry and non-fiction have appeared in over a hun­dred fifty jour­nals and antholo­gies.  After edit­ing fic­tion fOr the Bea­con Street Review (now Redi­vider) and Zoetrope All-Story Extra, he co-founded Night Train, a lit­er­ary jour­nal which has been fea­tured in the Boston Globe, The New York Times, and on National Pub­lic Radio. Sun­ny­out­side Press pub­lished a col­lec­tion of his flash fic­tion, Break­ing it Down, in Novem­ber 2007. MiPOe­sias pub­lished his poetry chap­book Red­neck Poems in Octo­ber 2010. In early 2011, Sun­ny­out­side will pub­lish his col­lec­tion of tra­di­tional fic­tion, Mostly Red­neck.

He is a nation­ally rec­og­nized and oft-solicited author­ity on flash fic­tion under all its var­i­ous names and per­mu­ta­tions, and serves on writ­ing con­fer­ence fac­ul­ties and pan­els through­out the coun­try, includ­ing recently with Asso­ci­ated Writ­ing Pro­grams, Somerville News Writ­ers Fes­ti­val, Writers@Work, The Par­lor, and Grub Street Writ­ers, as well as their annual Muse & Mar­ket­place con­fer­ence. He taught com­po­si­tion, fic­tion writ­ing, and lit­er­a­ture for over ten years in New Eng­land uni­ver­si­ties such as Emer­son Col­lege and North­east­ern Uni­ver­sity. His sto­ries have been trans­lated into Finnish, French, Pol­ish, and Russ­ian. His recently com­pleted novel, ten­ta­tively titled "Three of a Kind," is about north­ern Appalachia, fam­ily and com­mu­nity dynam­ics, sex, drugs, and not so much rock 'n' roll.

If you want to know more, friend him on Face­book, or check through his recent inter­views. If you'd like to read his poetry and get poetry-related news, visit Live Nude Poems. If you're really hurt­ing to know more, you can join his mail­ing list, and he'll mail you updates when some­thing inter­est­ing hap­pens in his life. In other words, not often. Addresses and infor­ma­tion will not be sold, given away, nor beaten from the proprietor's brain by large men with shillelaghs.