The best personal essays from a contested region, from Belt Publishing's ten years as a press.
Everyone has an opinion on the Rust Belt--whether it's the real America or a place that no longer exists called by a name that has long outlived its usefulness, as our own president has said. But undeniably, there's something that connects the post-industrial cities. Maybe the question isn't what defines that connection, but who.
Over the past ten years, Belt Publishing has been putting out books that prioritize the voices of the many people who live here. We've collected our favorite writing from across our collections, from Pittsburgh to Detroit, Chicago to St. Louis, Milwaukee to Cleveland, and more. Here, writers document growing up in segregated St. Louis and elucidate the coded Islamophobia of southern Michigan. Writers include Megan Stielstra, 2022 Missouri Author of the Year Vivian Gibson, Aaron Foley, Kathleen Rooney, Sarah Kendzior, and more.
In So You Want to Publish a Book?, Anne Trubek, founder of Belt Publishing, demystifies the publishing process.
This insightful guide offers concrete, witty advice and information to authors, prospective authors, and those curious about the inner workings of the industry. Learn the differences between Big Five and independent presses, and how advances and royalties really work. Discover the surprising methods that actually move books off the shelves. Develop the lingo to make editors swoon, and challenge yourself to find the errors intentionally embedded in the text!
Timely . . . [the collection] paints intimate portraits of neglected places that are often used as political talking points. A good companion piece to J. D. Vance's Hillbilly Elegy.--Booklist
The essays in Voices from the Rust Belt address segregated schools, rural childhoods, suburban ennui, lead poisoning, opiate addiction, and job loss. They reflect upon happy childhoods, successful community ventures, warm refuges for outsiders, and hidden oases of natural beauty. But mainly they are stories drawn from uniquely personal experiences: A girl has her bike stolen. A social worker in Pittsburgh makes calls on clients. A journalist from Buffalo moves away, and misses home.... A father gives his daughter a bath in the lead-contaminated water of Flint, Michigan (from the introduction).
There are many ways to show our devotion to an author besides reading his or her works. Graves make for popular pilgrimage sites, but far more popular are writers' house museums. What is it we hope to accomplish by trekking to the home of a dead author? We may go in search of the point of inspiration, eager to stand on the very spot where our favorite literary characters first came to life--and find ourselves instead in the house where the author himself was conceived, or where she drew her last breath. Perhaps it is a place through which our writer passed only briefly, or maybe it really was a longtime home--now thoroughly remade as a decorator's show-house.
In A Skeptic's Guide to Writers' Houses Anne Trubek takes a vexed, often funny, and always thoughtful tour of a goodly number of house museums across the nation. In Key West she visits the shamelessly ersatz shrine to a hard-living Ernest Hemingway, while meditating on his lost Cuban farm and the sterile Idaho house in which he committed suicide. In Hannibal, Missouri, she walks the fuzzy line between fact and fiction, as she visits the home of the young Samuel Clemens--and the purported haunts of Tom Sawyer, Becky Thatcher, and Injun' Joe. She hits literary pay-dirt in Concord, Massachusetts, the nineteenth-century mecca that gave home to Hawthorne, Emerson, and Thoreau--and yet could not accommodate a surprisingly complex Louisa May Alcott. She takes us along the trail of residences that Edgar Allan Poe left behind in the wake of his many failures and to the burned-out shell of a California house with which Jack London staked his claim on posterity. In Dayton, Ohio, a charismatic guide brings Paul Laurence Dunbar to compelling life for those few visitors willing to listen; in Cleveland, Trubek finds a moving remembrance of Charles Chesnutt in a house that no longer stands. Why is it that we visit writers' houses? Although admittedly skeptical about the stories these buildings tell us about their former inhabitants, Anne Trubek carries us along as she falls at least a little bit in love with each stop on her itinerary and finds in each some truth about literature, history, and contemporary America.