Katy E. Ellis
Katy E. Ellis is the author of the novel-length prose poem Home Water, Home Land (Tolsun Books) and three chapbooks, including Night Watch, winner of Floating Bridge Press’s 2017 John Pierce Chapbook Competition, Urban Animal Expeditions (Dancing Girl Press), and Gravity (Yellow Flag Press).
Her poetry appears in a number of print and online literary journals and anthologies including I Sing the Salmon Home: Poems from Washington State, Till the Tide: An Anthology of Mermaid Poetry, Mom Egg Review (MER), SWWIM Every Day, Pithead Chapel, The American Journal of Poetry, Literary Mama, MAYDAY Magazine, CALYX: A Journal of Art & Literature by Women, Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review , and the Canadian journals PRISM International, Grain , and Fiddlehead. Her fiction has appeared in Burnside Review and won Third Place in the Glimmer Train super-short fiction contest. She has twice been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
She received a Bachelor of Arts degree studying creative writing at the University of Victoria’s Fine Arts Program in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, and a Master’s Degree in English with a creative writing emphasis at Western Washington University, in Bellingham, Washington.
For five years Katy co-curated WordsWest Literary Series, a monthly literary event in West Seattle. She has been awarded grants from the Elizabeth George Foundation, Seattle’s Office of Arts & Culture and Artist Trust/Centrum.
Learn more at www.KatyEEllis.com
Forty Bouts in the Wilderness: $19.99
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Excerpt from Forty Bouts in the Wilderness
{Bouts 4–6}
~ One sister telephones the lost sister2 who climbed unchristened ranges in search of— ~ A pet name meaning something between Little Lamb and Black Sheep. ~ Forests of tall monstera loom at the end of long, disinfected hallways. 2 One sister telephones the lost sister: My sister calls on Valentine’s Day, or rather, Valentine’s Night. I’m last to arrive, though I speed to the hospital on the hill that overlooks Elliott Bay, skyscrapers tightly huddled nearby. My brothers walk me down the hallway, each resting a hand on my shoulder. When had they last held me in their love? Like two kind police officers, they escort me to our father hooked to machines and a tube draining blood out his skull.