Jac Jemc

Jac Jemc's work has appeared in The Denver Quarterly, Caketrain, Handsome and Sleepingfish, among others. She is the author of a chapbook of stories, These Strangers She'd Invited In (Greying Ghost Press) and the poetry editor for decomP Magazine. Jac blogs her rejections at jacjemc.wordpress.com.

Book Pages

My Only Wife

Jac Jemc

Release Date: April 10, 2012
ISBN: 978-1936873685

Price: $15.95

eBook Price: $7.99

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DESCRIPTION

Ten years ago the narrator unlocked the door of a wrecked apartment, empty of any trace of his wife. As stunning as her disappearance is his response. He freezes on the facts of her, haunting his recollections. This is the story of a man unable to free himself enough from the idea of a woman to try to find her.

 

ADVANCE PRAISE

"I adored this book. I adored the slippery, enigmatic wife of the title and I adored her adoring husband and I adored every lovely, heartbreaking sentence in this deftly written, beautiful book." —Elizabeth Crane, author of We Only Know So Much

"Jemc's subtle touch is evident in the focus and attention of My Only Wife. The reader's heart stirs and stops on her whim. This is a lovely, finely tuned book." —Amelia Gray, author of Threats

"Jac Jemc's My Only Wife operates with the calm, pristine clarity of an enormous marble room. In moving, methodically arranged sentences, one comes across the surpassing surfaces and relics of a kind of intimacy that seems an increasingly difficult proposition to rightly preserve. At last, here is a novel concerned with timeless dedication, love, and respect, which phrased through Jac Jemc's steady warming eye needs no punchline or coincidence or cataclysm to give true glow to the glow itself." —Blake Butler, author of There is No Year

 

REVIEWS

"My Only Wife is a sneaky book. It guiles the reader with clean prose and apparent simplicity into believing that it’s a novel about the narrator’s only wife. It may be about many things – about absence, emptiness, and loss – but it really isn’t about the narrator’s only wife. It’s more like an empty glass from the cupboard, an abstraction, a form, and it invites us to fill it with particulars from our own experience." —David Allan Barker, nouspique.com