…(Nichols) has written a soul-searching meander littered with the bitter – sweetness of his music. The Untogether is narrated with a Mid-West drawl sharpened by NYC, and generously seasoned by the author’s more recent stint in rural Wales. A voice that emanates warmth, his sparse style is punctuated, staccato, with dry wit – discover and re-read.

'This is not a love story. With this haunting, modernist account of
lives struck by loss and threatened by love, Jeb Loy Nichols emerges as
a singular voice.'

Venturing briskly through what is not said, 'The Unlanguaged' demonstrates a proper 'allegiance to the peripheries'. The waiting times. Remaindered dreams. Short aeons following the vortex in a coffee cup. The karma of memory reads like a very imaginative shopping list. In stance and style, Jeb Loy Nichols summons the vagrant spirit of Douglas Woolf, that great master of going-with-your-fate. Here is a supple intelligence in play. A sprightly and welcome voice in a time of stalled metaphors and gassy rhetoric.