Mahyar is an Iranian-born author who lives between the US and New Zealand. His latest novel is “The Hubris of an Empty Hand”.
"But, looking down, I realized that I had left my cojones back at my desk, or possibly even lost them years ago."
—Dinner at 10:32
“Death appeared as he always did and sat regally across from the three men. The black cloak draped around him made him look taller. He had a long, strong face with deep dark eyes.”
—The Hubris of an Empty Hand
“Alfonso pushed his hands deeper in the soft, velvety earth, allowing them to soak the goodness that was absent from everywhere else around him.”
—A Dark Sunny Afternoon
“[Gabrielle] takes another oyster, but this time she puts a lot of hot sauce on top of it. There is a large mound of red chili on the shell and I wonder how the oyster is feeling at the moment. It must be on fire.”
—Pisgah Road
“Jackie leans close, and I know I have no power to deny her. She puts her lips on my ear and I can smell the morning dew on her hair. I don’t want this intimacy to end, but she whispers what she knows is poison, and then she is done.”
—The Hubris of an Empty Hand
“I didn’t really cry. I didn’t cry when I sat in the waiting area, nor when I found the courage to leave, nor when I stood waiting for a taxi, nor throughout any part of the trip. The grief was just there, settling heavily in the bottom of my heart, and it never moved... I wondered how many others were in mourning that very moment in Terminal C. I wondered which of us would break down and cry for our lost love. None of us did… I wondered how many of us would reach our destination carrying the pain and keeping it forever. I knew I would."
—Dinner at 10:32
“I feel a raindrop hit the side of my head and it rolls down my neck slowly, like a little crawling insect… I look over at Daniel and a few drops hit the wine that now has completely covered his name. He licks his lips. He loves the wine. He loves the picnic. He misses my company. The drops are diluting the wine though and before the hour the rain will completely wash it away. Daniel smiles and urges me on…The rain makes us decisive.”
—Pisgah Road
“That spring, it rained for weeks, and when the earth was saturated and the rivers around the camp roiled impatiently, and the trees sagged from the unwanted weight, and the birds, angry at the sky, stayed in place, and when everyone forgot about the time before the rain, and the sun was a mere dream, it rained for two more weeks.”
—A Dark Sunny Afternoon
“A contemplative exploration of both inner and external lives.”—Buzzfeed News
In eight ethereal stories, The Hubris of an Empty Hand encompasses the frailty and complexity of being human. When some divine gifts fall into decidedly earthly hands, the results are almost beyond reckoning for humans and gods both. Through its wide cast of characters and fascinating settings, terrestrial, divine, or somewhere in-between, Mahyar A. Amouzegar's fourth book of fiction takes on timeless questions of love and its permanence, sacrifice, and the human desire to be remembered and known.
"A work that features admirable, layered storytelling and complex, distinct characters," —Kirkus Reviews
In Dinner At 10:32, Mahyar A. Amouzegar offers a textured examination of the ambiguity of the most intimate human relationships. Near the end of his life, Donte’s granddaughter asks him a simple question: What are the true origins of his long love affair with his wife? From there, Donte embarks on a reminiscence of their complex love story, along with other romances, friendships, and intrigues that peppered his younger days. As Donte reveals the moments that formed him by sharing stories with his granddaughter, both are led to contemplate memories, truths, secrets, and hope.