Nate Pritts is the author of five books of poetry, most recently Sweet Nothing which Publishers Weekly describes as “both baroque and irreverent, banal and romantic, his poems […] arrive at a place of vulnerability and sincerity.”
POETRY Magazine called his third book, The Wonderfull Yeare, “rich, vivid, intimate, & somewhat troubled” while The Rumpus called Big Bright Sun, his fourth book, “a textual record of mistakes made and insights gleaned…[in] a voice that knows its part in self-destruction.” His poetry & prose have been widely published, both online & in print, at places like Southern Review, Columbia, Court Green, Gulf Coast, Boston Review & Rain Taxi where he frequently contributes reviews.
He is the founder & principal editor of H_NGM_N Bks, an online journal & small press — which publishes a refreshingly inspired roster of emerging voices.
I asked him what he’s been reading and here’s what he said:
“I read some poetry every day, sometimes just a few pages & sometimes a book or two. Though I get obsessed with a particular poet, or period or style, my reading here is really scattered & intuitive…serious, but lacking any kind of discernible program.
Late last fall, spurred on by a course I was teaching, I started reading in this recent vein of books targeting the ways in which the internet, & our predominantly online socio-cultural network, can damage us in all kinds of ways – our hearts, our brains, the way we understand our experience & process our memories. I read Nicholas Carr’s The Shallows & Sherry Turkle’s Alone Together & Maggie Jackson’s Distracted: The Erosion of Attention & the Coming Dark Age & Jaron Lanier’s You Are Not a Gadget: A Manifesto. I felt like all this speed was making me forget about patience, that sometimes we need things fast but often it’s nice to go slow & open yourself up to the complex pleasures of sifting & accumulation instead of the brief jolt that accompanies acquisition.
I wanted to hit the refresh button on the world, make it strange again. I read some Borges, & then Paul Poissel’s The Facts of Winter. Finally, I decided that it was memory (our only record of the self) & time (both scientific & theoretical, how it passes & what that means) that I was most interested in. So I started reading Proust’s In Search of Lost Time. The sentences & descriptions are beautiful. That’s where I still am today.”