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Authors: Raymond Carver

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Appendix 7
Posthumous Publications
1988
Elephant and Other Stories
published in London by Harvill on 4 August.
1989
A New Path to the Waterfall
published by Atlantic Monthly Press on 15 June and by Harvill in September.
1990
Conversations with Raymond Carver
, a collection of interviews, published by University Press of Mississippi on 31 October.
Carver Country: The World of Raymond Carver
, with photographs by Bob Adelman and introduction by Tess Gallagher, published by Scribner’s on 14 November.
1991
No Heroics, Please: Uncollected Writings
published in London by Harvill in November.
1992
No Heroics, Please
published in the US by Vintage Contemporaries on 24 June.
Carnations: A Play in One Act
published by Engdahl Typography in September.
1993
Where I’m Calling From: The Selected Stories
published in London by Harvill in September.
Short Cuts: Selected Stories
published by Vintage Contemporaries in September and by Harvill in November.
1996
All of Us: The Collected Poems
published in London by The Harvill Press in September.
Index of Titles

Bahia, Brazil

Cadillacs and Poetry

Eagles

Fear

Gravy

Hamid Ramouz (1818—1906)

In a Greek Orthodox Church near Daphne

Jean’s TV

Kafka’s Watch

Late Afternoon, April 8, 1984

Margo

Near Klamath

On an Old Photograph of My Son

Photograph of My Father in His Twenty-Second Year

Quiet Nights

Radio Waves

Scale

Tel Aviv and
Life On the Mississippi

The Ashtray

The Attic

The Author of Her Misfortune

The Autopsy Room

The Baker

The Best Time of the Day

The Blue Stones

The Brass Ring

The Car

The Catch

The Caucasus: A Romance

The Child

The Cobweb

The Contact

The Cougar

The Cranes

The Current

The Debate

The Eve of Battle

The Fields

The Fishing Pole of the Drowned Man

The Garden

The Gift

The Grant

The Hat

The House behind This One

The Juggler at
Heaven’s Gate

The Jungle

The Kitchen

The Lightning Speed of the Past

The Little Room

The Mail

The Mailman as Cancer Patient

The Man Outside

The March into Russia

The Meadow

The Minuet

The Moon, the Train

The Mosque in Jaffa

The Name
(Tranströmer)

The Net

The News Carried to Macedonia

The Offending Eel

The Old Days

The Other Life

The Painter & The Fish

The Party

The Pen

The Phenomenon

The Phone Booth

The Pipe

The Poem I Didn’t Write

The Possible

The Prize

The Projectile

The Rest

The River

The Road

The Schooldesk

The Scratch

The Sensitive Girl

The Sturgeon

The Sunbather, to Herself

The Toes

The Trestle

The White Field

The Window

The Windows of the Summer Vacation Houses

The World Book Salesman

The Young Fire Eaters of Mexico City

The Young Girls

Thermopylae

This Morning

This Room

This Word Love

Those Days

Threat

Through the Boughs

To Begin With

To My Daughter

Tomorrow

Torture

Transformation

Trying to Sleep Late on a Saturday Morning in November

Two Carriages (Chekhov)

Two Worlds

Union Street: San Francisco, Summer 1975

Venice

Waiting

Yesterday

Index of First Lines

A break in the clouds. The blue

A crow flew into the tree outside my window

A day so happy, (Milosz)

A few minutes ago, I stepped onto the deck

A girl pushes a bicycle through tall grass

A kind of

A late summer’s day, and my friend on the court

A little quietly outstanding uptown

A little sport-fishing boat

A matinee that Saturday

A storm blew in last night and knocked out

A swank dinner. Food truly wonderful

After rainy days and the same serious doubts

After the winter, grieving and dull

Again the flying horses, the strange voice of drunken Nikanor, (Chekhov)

All day he’d been working like a locomotive

All I know about medicine I picked up

All I want today is to keep an eye on these birds

All that day we banged at geese

Among the hieroglyphs, the masks, the unfinished poems

And did you get what

“and we kept going

Anderson, I thought of you when I loitered

As he passed his father’s room, he glanced in at the door. (Chekhov)

As he writes, without looking at the sea

As I stare at the smoothly worn portrait of

At night the salmon move

At noon we have rain, which washes away the snow, (Chekhov)

At Sportsmen’s Park, near Yakima, I crammed a hook

Awakened this morning by a voice from my childhood

Back at the hotel, watching her loosen, then comb out

Call it iron discipline. But for months

Down below the window, on the deck, some ragged-looking

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