Gina Balibrera is a Zell Postgraduate Fellow in prose at the University of Michigan, at work on a novel set in El Salvador and France in the 1930s. Originally from San Francisco, she’s lived in Tucson, Singapore, Bogotá, and now, Ann Arbor, Michigan. Her writing has appeared in The Hairpinand Belletrist Coterie, and she blogs regularly for the Michigan Quarterly Review. Her favorite fictions are written near to the wild heart of life, and sometimes resemble poetry. She’s after Nabokov’s limpid light, Clarice Lispector’s weird topazes, Lorca’s duende, W. G. Sebald’s mazes, Shirley Hazzard’s celestial bodies, Anne Carson’s novel-in-verse volcanoes, and Steven Milhauser’s teeth.
