Reincarnation Blues: A Novel by Michael Poore (English) Paperback Book

Description: Reincarnation Blues by Michael Poore Originally published in hardcover in 2017. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Publisher Description A wildly imaginative novel about a man who is reincarnated over ten thousand lifetimes to be with his one true love: Death herself."Tales of gods and men akin to Neil Gaimans Sandman as penned by a kindred spirit of Douglas Adams."—Kirkus Reviews (starred review) First we live. Then we die. And then . . . we get another try? Ten thousand tries, to be exact. Ten thousand lives to "get it right." Answer all the Big Questions. Achieve Wisdom. And Become One with Everything. Milo has had 9,995 chances so far and has just five more lives to earn a place in the cosmic soul. If he doesnt make the cut, oblivion awaits. But all Milo really wants is to fall forever into the arms of Death. Or Suzie, as he calls her. More than just Milos lover throughout his countless layovers in the Afterlife, Suzie is literally his reason for living—as he dives into one new existence after another, praying for the day hell never have to leave her side again. But Reincarnation Blues is more than a great love story: Every journey from cradle to grave offers Milo more pieces of the great cosmic puzzle—if only he can piece them together in time to finally understand what it means to be part of something bigger than infinity. As darkly enchanting as the works of Neil Gaiman and as wisely hilarious as Kurt Vonneguts, Michael Poores Reincarnation Blues is the story of everything that makes life profound, beautiful, absurd, and heartbreaking. Because its more than Milo and Suzies story. Its your story, too.Praise for Reincarnation Blues "The most fun youll have reading about a man who has been killed by both catapult and car accident."—NPR "This book made me laugh out loud. And then a page later, it made me sob. Reminiscent of Tom Robbins and Christopher Moore, Poore finds humor in the dark absurdities of life."—Chicago Review of Books "Charming . . . surprisingly light and uplifting . . . It reads like a writer having fun."—New York Journal of Books Author Biography Michael Poores short fiction has appeared in Glimmer Train, Southern Review, Agni, Fiction, and Asimovs. His story "The Street of the House of the Sun" was selected for The Years Best Nonrequired Reading 2012. His first novel, Up Jumps the Devil, was hailed by The New York Review of Books as "an elegiac masterpiece." Poore lives in Highland, Indiana, with his wife, poet and activist Janine Harrison, and their daughter, Jianna. Review "Tales of gods and men akin to Neil Gaimans Sandman as penned by a kindred spirit of Douglas Adams."—Kirkus Reviews (starred review) "The most fun youll have reading about a man who has been killed by both catapult and car accident."—NPR "This book made me laugh out loud. And then a page later, it made me sob. Reminiscent of Tom Robbins and Christopher Moore, Poore finds humor in the dark absurdities of life."—Chicago Review of Books "Charming . . . surprisingly light and uplifting . . . It reads like a writer having fun."—New York Journal of Books Review Quote "Tales of gods and men akin to Neil Gaimans Sandman as penned by a kindred spirit of Douglas Adams." -- Kirkus Reviews (starred review) Excerpt from Book Copyright © 2017 Michael Poore ***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected proof*** Chapter 1: The Wise Man of Orange Blossom Key Florida Keys, 2017 This is a story about a wise man named Milo. It begins on the day he was eaten by a shark. The day didnt begin badly. Milo woke up before sunrise, tucked his fifty-year-old self into a pair of shorts, and walked out to meditate on the beach. His dog, Burt - a big black mutt -- followed. Milo sat down in the sugar-white sand, closed his eyes, and felt the warm, salt breeze in his beard. He took note of his ponytail feathering against his back, and seagulls crying. Thats what you were supposed to do when you meditated: notice things, without really thinking about them. Milo was not a particularly good meditator. He cracked open a beer, and watched the sun come up. Meanwhile, as always, the more he tried to think of nothing, the more he thought of ridiculous, noisy shit like his big toe, or France. Maybe he would get a new tattoo. He drank his breakfast, noticing the ocean, welcoming its ancient indifference. He tried to match its breath - the breath of time itself -- and fell asleep, as usual, on the beach with his beer and his dog, until the tide rolled in far enough to wet the sand under his ankles. He was, perhaps, the crappiest meditator in the world. But he noticed this, accepted it, and let it humble him. Humility was one of the things that made him a wise man. He walked back to the house to open a new bag of dog food. The shark that would eat Milo in a few hours was miles away, at that particular moment. It patrolled the surf off St. Jeffryes Key, looking for manatees. The shark knew it was hungry. This required no thought. The shark lived in the moment, every moment, in a perfect equanimity of sense and peace, meditating its way through the sea without even trying. Milo worked in his garden for a while. He played with his dog and read a book about fossils. He went online and spent twenty minutes watching dumb videos. Then he drove his old pickup truck to St. Vincents Hospital, because visiting the sick is an important part of a wise mans job. He took Burt with him. Petting dogs was good for peop≤ it was a scientific fact. Burt was a wise man too, in his way. All animals are. On this particular day, Milo and Burt visited Ms. Arlene Epstein, who was dying of being a hundred years old. She was asleep when Milo arrived, and he stood there looking at her for a minute. Hospitals had an unfortunate way of reducing people, he thought. Looking at Arlene Epstein in her bed, tissue-delicate, youd never know that she had once been a legendary bartender, keeping rowdy tourists in line with a sawed-off hockey stick. Burt hopped up and rested his forepaws on the mattress. "Milo," yawned Arlene. "Is it Thursday already?" "Saturday," he answered, kneeling. "I always liked Saturdays," mused Arlene. "I think Ill die on a Saturday, if I can help it." "Not today, though," said Milo. "You look good." "Fantastic," she replied, sitting up and giving his beard a tug. "You can take me for a walk." Arlene was not supposed to go for walks. There was a sticker on her door that said she was a fall risk. Milo ignored the sticker, and stole a walker from a closet down the hall. Arlene took one step about every three seconds. Milo stuck casually by her side, ready like a hair-trigger to catch her. Burt walked along the wall, sniffing like crazy (dogs love hospitals. Think of all the different smells you can never quite get rid of). When they had traveled ten feet, Arlene asked, "Milo, do you know what happens when we die?" He was honest with her. He said, "Yes." One step. Two steps. "Well?" she asked. "You come back as something else." Arlene thought about that. "Like another person?" she said. "Or a dog. Or an ant. Maybe even a tree. Burt was a bus driver in his last life." The old woman stopped. "Dont fuck with me," she said. "Im going to die soon, on a Saturday, and I want to know." Milo looked down at her with deep, honest eyes. "Ive lived almost ten thousand lives," he told her. "I am the oldest soul on the planet." Arlene looked into one of his eyes, then the other. Seemed to like what she saw. She set the walker aside, took Milos hand with both of hers, and leaned on him some. They resumed walking. "Will I still be me?" she asked. "Sure," said Milo. "More or less. Of course, youre supposed to make improvements." "Well, I dont think I want to come back as a tree." "Then dont." Arlene patted his hand and told him he was a good boy. Burt sniffed out something nasty on the floor, and gave it a big, fat lick. If Milo had gone out swimming then and been eaten by the shark, it would have been a wonderful, generous note for his life to end on. But he didnt. The shark, always hungry, had eaten a mess of ocean perch and some floating garbage, and now cruised the deeps between islands, coming up slowly across the outer reefs of Orange Blossom Key. The shark had been an ocean perch, in a former life. It had been food of all kinds. It had been the Strawberry Queen for the 1985 Strawberry Festival in Troy, Ohio. Sometimes, in dreams, it remembered these other lives. For now, though, it swam and was hungry, and swam and was hungry. Milo still had his workday to look forward to. Part of being a wise man was knowing the importance of work. Milo did two things for a living. Thing One: he was a fisherman, and a sportfishing guide. He owned a boat called the Jenny Ann Loudermilk , and charged people a fortune to catch fish. You could charge tourists in the keys practically anything. Today, Milos workday involved housecleaning aboard the Loudermilk. Maybe a customer would appear, but he kind of hoped not. He was hoping to go surfing, if the waves built up. He stood on the deck of his boat, wielding a garden hose, spraying away seagull shit and old fish guts. Burt curled up on the floor in the pilot house and lay there watching the flies on the windshield. Milo thought about Arlene Epstein and wondering if she was scared. &n Details ISBN0399178503 Author Michael Poore Short Title REINCARNATION BLUES Pages 384 Language English ISBN-10 0399178503 ISBN-13 9780399178504 Format Paperback DEWEY 813.6 Year 2018 Publication Date 2018-07-10 Subtitle A Novel Country of Publication United States AU Release Date 2018-07-10 NZ Release Date 2018-07-10 US Release Date 2018-07-10 UK Release Date 2018-07-10 Place of Publication New York Publisher Random House USA Inc Imprint Del Rey Books Audience General We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:118425276;

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