Coming to bookstores May 2020!
The first edition of little astronaut is sold out. All proceeds are going to Every Mother Counts. News about where to get the next edition of little astronaut will be announced shortly.
little astronaut is a little book of early motherhood poems and writings, three of which were in Mike Birbiglia’s The New One on Broadway at The Cort Theater, October 25, 2018- January 20, 2019.
more about little astronaut:
There’s that moment in Thornton Wilder’s Our Town, when Emily Webb asks from the grave, “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? –every, every minute?” “No,” she’s told. “The saints and poets, maybe. —they do some.” J. Hope Stein realizes life not just as she lives it, but as she gives it. In little astronaut we feel her give life, feed life, and wait for the time when the person she made must live life, “every, every minute” all on its own. I don’t know from Saints. But J. Hope Stein is Poet. I read this collection, choked-up, laughing, and in awe.
❤ John Mulaney ❤
J. Hope Stein is one of my favorite poets. Her images are outrageously vivid and memorable. Her music is alive, is unpredictable, is tender, is voracious.
little astronaut is a beautiful orchestration of the strange experience we call human. There is humor here, and wisdom. This astronaut shows us how to find, among the most mundane details, a little bit of magic. In our era of so much destruction and disappointment, what luck to come across this bundle of laughter.
❤ Ilya Kaminsky ❤
In Little Astronaut, J. Hope Stein writes a parental love so new to her, so overwhelming, that the poems read almost as if Stein were the first person to feel parental love at all. Rarely do such poems so thoroughly inhabit the moment. These poems convince me, effortlessly, that I am seeing the world new.
❤ Shane McCrae ❤
The brave, electric, hilarious and indelibly true poems of LITTLE ASTRONAUT convey the utter shock that is, has always been, and will always be…parenthood.
❤ Jean Hanff Korelitz ❤
Through J. Hope Stein, the reader sees mothering an infant as a primal force to be reckoned with. Tempered by humor and love, J. Hope Stein puts us in it, in her very bodily experience of it. I weaned my son years ago, and … uh … I was afraid my milk was going to come in while reading these funny, irreverent, intense poems.
❤ Joanna Penn Cooper ❤
I’ve been joining Mike Birbiglia on stage the past few months for a comedy/poetry experiment at theaters like the Cherry Lane Theater and Largo at the Coronet.
J. Hope Stein is the author of Occasionally, I remove your brain through your nose (Poet Republik, 2017).
Her poems can be found in The New Yorker, Poetry International, Lenny Letter, In the Shape of a Human Body I Am Visiting the Earth: Poems from Far and Wide (McSweeney’s and Poetry International, 2017).
“J. Hope Stein is one of my favorite poets …
Her images are outrageously vivid and memorable. Her music is alive, is unpredictable, is tender, is voracious. She updates the music of a great poet—say, John Berryman—into the 21st century, making the bard alive again, making the voice bristle with a verbal energy in this moment in time. But she is a poet all her own–unlike anyone else–writing a kind of music in which “the sky/drools sweetly to the ear” with sound that is full of emotion, full of erotic, ecstatic, essential moments: “I’m listening to Beethoven/…music swells/as it disappears into my pelvis.”
This is the kind of music that can take our most domestic moments–in which two people find themselves bewildered, and yet inseparable, in love–and see how they “act as two animals holding invisible balloons.” This music teaches us that our domestic joys, perhaps, are our last defense.
J. Hope Stein uses this defense of music, this shield of verbal art, against our moment’s ugliest creatures: “The steel men. The financiers. The patrons/of the petroleum arts,” and other kinds of trash, Donald Trump first in line among them. This poet knows that a time comes when only music and sensuality can still protect the soul. A time comes when there is no more time for the trivial. And she gives us the incredible energy, incredible verve of such saving music. Like I said, one of my favorite poets.”
“J. Hope Stein’s poetry is inspired. Thick, playful, rewarding and true.”
“ … perversely nourishing … ”
“… fresh, vital, surprising, and impactful … Occasionally, I Remove Your Brain Through Your Nose is a gem…
… a whirlwind of blazing insight lightly wrapped in deft and nimble language.
… You may feel after reading Occasionally, I Remove Your Brain Through Your Nose that Stein has performed just that feat upon you … a thorough wringing of the mind…”
“The book is brief, but the imagery and thought in it is so rich, it keeps expanding. Simultaneously, a giggle can build into a full-body laughing fit …
… [the book] ends in the middle of our thinking, our fruitless, round-and-round thinking, our not-learning-from-history-and-thus-repeating-it thinking, our wonderfully-inventive-yet-unable-to-save-ourselves-or-stop-ourselves thinking…. It’s a brilliant choice; it leaves the reader thinking and aware of her own responsibility in these matters. What should we do? What can we do? What will we do? Pondering it, I may pull my brain out through my nose.”
You can buy Occasionally, I remove your brain through your nose here at Poet Republik. (thanks! Maria Teutsch).
My poems are the luckiest poems that ever were to be bouncing around inside the cover artwork of (a thousand thank yous) Kate Micucci.
An excerpt from The Inventor is in the latest monster issue of Poetry International. Ilya Kaminsky and his team in San Diego have outdone themselves with a wholly holly alive collection of work from poets too sacred to name. (but here is the HOT cover which lists them). (also check out PI’s important and devastating reporting from Syria , Ukraine, and more, including their Poetry in a Time of Crisis issue.
(here’s a photo from a reading a few months ago at KGB Bar with my girl strapped to me. I don’t think she will let me do that any more.)