Skip James (1902–1969) was perhaps the most creative and idiosyncratic of all blues musicians. Drawing on hundreds of hours of conversations with James himself, Stephen Calt here paints a dark and unforgettable portrait of a man untroubled by his own murderous inclinations, a man who achieved one moment of transcendent greatness in a life haunted by failure. And in doing so, Calt offers new insights into the nature of the blues, the world in which it thrived, and its fate when that world vanished.

Skip James (1902&–1969) was perhaps the most creative and idiosyncratic of all blues musicians. Drawing on hundreds of hours of conversations with James himself, Stephen Calt here paints a dark and unforgettable portrait of a man untroubled by his own murderous inclinations, a man who achieved one moment of transcendent greatness in a life haunted by failure. And in doing so, Calt offers new insights into the nature of the blues, the world in which it thrived, and its fate when that world vanished.

Instagram star and comedian Ellen Skrmetti shares stories behind her wildly popular “Hey Jesus, It’s Me” sketches of a middle-aged, southern-woman's opinions on mamas, menopause, and menus--and on giving the Lord a bit of advice about those unspoken prayer requests. As a young girl, Ellen Skrmetti loved performing. She starred in plays, sang in the church choir, and even compete in the Miss Mississippi pageant. But backstage at the pageant, she was gripped by severe stage fright and made a deal with God: If you help me get through this, I will never, ever get onstage again. After successfully hitting the high note in “Adelaide’s Lament” from the musical Guys and Dolls, she packed up her drama clothes for good—or so she thought. When the pandemic hit, Ellen longed to bring a little joy to the dark struggles the world was facing. She thought about all of times she’d asked Jesus to walk with her through pain and heartache—and how often He’d laughed with or comforted her, even during her blazing hot flashes. So she decided to share that message with others, in 30-second videos on Instagram that quickly went viral. Holding a remote control in her hand, Ellen "calls" Jesus with comments and questions, including asking Him not to make her an advance maternal age mama (again) and if He could bless the nourishment of her food to someone else’s body. She also asks for advice when her best friend’s ex-husband’s new wife shows up in the next pew, or what nursing home plans to make when she's eight years past your first geriatric pregnancy. From a pageant queen with stage fright, to viral videos, to her growing popularity as a stand-up comedian with sold-out performances, Ellen’s humor is rooted in southern charm and culture. Her relatable stories in Hey Jesus, It’s Me will bring levity to our lives, or at least some validation that we’re not the only ones asking if we can ghost our relatives in heaven.

Drama recounting the experience of growing up in the Deep South

The true story of a young black man's quest: to canoe the length of the Mississippi River from Minnesota to New Orleans.

Winner of the NAACP Image Award for Fiction From Kiese Laymon, author of the critically acclaimed memoir Heavy, comes a “funny, astute, searching” (The Wall Street Journal) debut novel about Black teenagers that is a satirical exploration of celebrity, authorship, violence, religion, and coming of age in post-Katrina Mississippi. Written in a voice that’s alternately humorous, lacerating, and wise, Long Division features two interwoven stories. In the first, it’s 2013: after an on-stage meltdown during a nationally televised quiz contest, fourteen-year-old Citoyen “City” Coldson becomes an overnight YouTube celebrity. The next day, he’s sent to stay with his grandmother in the small coastal community of Melahatchie, where a young girl named Baize Shephard has recently disappeared. Before leaving, City is given a strange book without an author called Long Division. He learns that one of the book’s main characters is also named City Coldson—but Long Division is set in 1985. This 1985-version of City, along with his friend and love interest, Shalaya Crump, discovers a way to travel into the future, and steals a laptop and cellphone from an orphaned teenage rapper called...Baize Shephard. They ultimately take these items with them all the way back to 1964, to help another time-traveler they meet to protect his family from the Ku Klux Klan. City’s two stories ultimately converge in the work shed behind his grandmother’s house, where he discovers the key to Baize’s disappearance. Brilliantly “skewering the disingenuous masquerade of institutional racism” (Publishers Weekly), this dreamlike “smart, funny, and sharp” (Jesmyn Ward), novel shows the work that young Black Americans must do, while living under the shadow of a history “that they only gropingly understand and must try to fill in for themselves” (The Wall Street Journal).