Peter Brown Hoffmeister
Author also writes under Pedro Hoffmeister
Pedro Hoffmeister's new novel, American Afterlife, is a thriller with Crooked Lane Books (distributed by Penguin Random House).
Writing under the name Peter Brown Hoffmeister, Hoffmeister's previous novels have earned places on Year-End "Best Of" lists for 2016 and 2017 by The American Library Association, VOYA, and Bank Street, and starred reviews from Booklist, Kirkus, Publishers Weekly, Library Journal, VOYA, and The Bulletin.
Hoffmeister is the author of the critically acclaimed novels Too Shattered For Mending, This Is The Part Where You Laugh, and Graphic The Valley. He has also written the memoir The End of Boys, the nonfiction text Let Them Be Eaten By Bears, and a new collection of essays titled Confessions Of The Last Man On Earth Without A Cell Phone.
A former troubled teen, Hoffmeister was expelled from three high schools, lived for a short while in a Greyhound bus station, was remanded to a recovery and parole program, and completed a wilderness experience for troubled teens. He now runs the Integrated Outdoor Program and represents Ridgemont Outfitters as an outdoor athlete and climbs for Elevation Bouldering.
He lives with his wife and daughters in Eugene, Oregon.
“I know that I've lost something now because this keeps happening, and I feel as if this is all I ever come to, to this place, this knife, this feeling, almost killing, and I wonder that I'm not drunk because I feel fucked up and cold and hot, and this man, the drunk man, he's backing away from me toward a parked car and he trips over the parking meter and stumbles and takes a few steps and there's a wall he can follow along and he's scuttling back into the doorway of the bar and his off-white shirt gets hazy like cottonwood down floating off the river back home but it's hot in the spring there, back home, when the cottonwoods are dropping, and nothing about this night is even warm at all except my fist around the handle of the knife that's still cold, and there's the smell of the river water, the water in the air, and water everywhere, over my eyes and the city and the night, and I wonder why the water's not frozen because it's cold, cold every night here, so fucking cold, and no amount of weed will warm me up because I'm a long way from home and my bed and my room and my house and my family and anything and everything and everyone that I have ever loved, and I can sleep on a dirty floor with gum and spiders and garbage and wrappers and ants and dust and spit and cum, and I can sleep here and wake up, and I can sleep here and wake up again, but no amount of sleeping and waking will ever make it right.”