Sloane Jacobsen is the most powerful trend forecaster in the world, and her recent forecasts are unwavering: the world is overpopulated, and having children is an extravagant indulgence.

So it’s no surprise when the tech giant Mammoth hires the woman who predicted “the swipe” to lead their groundbreaking annual conference celebrating the voluntarily childless and their growing reliance on technology. But soon Sloane begins to sense the undeniable signs of a movement against smart devices that will see people embracing compassion, empathy, and “in-personism” again. She’s worried that her predictions are hopelessly out of sync with her employer’s mission (and that her closest personal relationship is with her self-driving car) when her French “neo-sensualist” partner publishes an op-ed on the death of penetrative sex—which instantly goes viral…



Despite the success of his first solo show in Paris and the support of his brilliant French wife and young daughter, thirty-four-year-old British artist Richard Haddon is too busy mourning the loss of his American mistress to a famous cutlery designer to appreciate his fortune.

But after Richard discovers that a painting he originally made for his wife, Anne -when they were first married and deeply in love-has sold, it shocks him back to reality and he resolves to reinvest wholeheartedly in his family life...just in time for his wife to learn the extent of his affair. Rudderless and remorseful, Richard embarks on a series of misguided attempts to win Anne back while focusing his creative energy on a provocative art piece to prove that he's still the man she once loved.

Skillfully balancing biting wit with a deep emotional undercurrent, debut novelist Courtney Maum has created the perfect portrait of an imperfect family-and a heartfelt exploration of marriage, love, and fidelity.



Winner of The Cupboard's 2012 annual chapbook contest, the author Maud Casey described NOTES FROM MEXICO as a book in 21 chapters that is “wickedly funny but never rests on its cleverness. Instead, the wry sensibility walks a razor’s edge; danger lurks in the taut language, the refreshingly strange observations, the poignantly tippy searching. Like the songwriter Dory Previn, about whom the narrator says, ‘no one gave enough respect,’ this story has an eye for the unsettling, resonant detail and the winning oddness of the world, as well as a lovely, fresh agility when it comes to wrangling with behemoths like marriage and having, or not having, children. Most of all, the pleasure here is in the fleetness of this voice and its deft ability to reside in, and to illuminate, uncertainty, for which its author deserves an enormous amount of respect.”