Alison Stine is a 2008 winner of a Ruth Lilly Fellowship. She was born in Indiana and grew up in Ohio. A former Wallace Stegner Fellow at Stanford University, she is the author of the chapbook Lot of My Sister, winner of the Wick Prize. Her poems have appeared in such journals as The Paris Review, Poetry, and The Kenyon Review. This is her first book. She lives in Athens, Ohio.

Other poems by Alison Stine in Verse Daily:
October 25, 2002:  "When I Taught Mary to Eat Avocado" "She didn't understand..."

Books by Alison Stine:

Other poems on the web by Alison Stine:
Three poems
"School"
"Gossip"
"In the Limbo of Lost Toys"
"After Meat"
Two poems

Alison Stine's Home Page.

Alison Stine's Blog.

About Ohio Violence:

"Alison Stine writes, 'Believe me. I am telling you a story,' and the story she tells us we believe as it unfolds. The poems are moving–beautiful, tragic, death-haunted, and uncanny–like old folk songs and murder ballads–lovely on the tongue, heavy on the heart. As a narrator, Stine does not and will not swerve when faced with the brutal, the adamantine and the ordinary damage that equals a life."
—Eric Pankey

"In this highly anticipated debut of poems, Alison Stine guides us in a moving tour of the heart's land: the star-lit terrain of Ohio, the quiet chambers of loss and longing. Stine's poems present a gloriously vibrant zoology dotted with a blessing of birds, reptiles, and the gallop of a branded horse so real-you'd swear you could hear them chatter and hiss as you read. These poems are electric, raw, and charged with such beauty, your heart is bound to be forever bruised. You will thank her for it again and again."
—Aimee Nezhukumatathil

"Ohio Violence is a gut punch of a debut, a rural winter book, replete with doom and elegy, loss and love and lack. What loveliness there is (and there's a fount of that) comes through constellations of blood, beauty, animaldeath, girldeath, the dark pines, bisected toys, the remains of deer: everything connecting and electric. Each poem becomes a trapdoor through which we must descend. Yes. You'll like it. Poor deer. Dark night. Big love. Great book."
—Ander Monson