Bart Yates


Born
Cheyenne, Wyoming, The United States
Website


Author also writes as Noah Bly

The youngest of three brothers, Bart Yates was born in Cheyenne, Wyoming, in 1962,
to Newell and Lois Yates. In 1969 his family moved to Lamoni, Iowa, where his father
was the Dean of Students at Graceland College and his mother taught business courses, also at Graceland. Bart graduated from Lamoni High School in 1981, Drake University in 1985 (with a Bachelor of Music degree in Clarinet Performance), and Boston University in 1988 (with a Master of Music degree in Woodwind Performance).

Following a brief. bizarrely inappropriate stint as bursar at The Boston Conservatory, Bart began teaching private music lessons in Massachusetts in 1989, and then moved to Iowa City, Iowa, in 1999. A novel-writing class taught by
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Average rating: 4.03 · 4,728 ratings · 544 reviews · 5 distinct worksSimilar authors
Leave Myself Behind

4.10 avg rating — 2,345 ratings — published 2003 — 9 editions
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The Brothers Bishop

3.95 avg rating — 1,423 ratings — published 2005 — 12 editions
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The Distance Between Us

really liked it 4.00 avg rating — 353 ratings — published 2008 — 14 editions
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White Creek: A Fable

4.50 avg rating — 24 ratings3 editions
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The Third Hill North of Town

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4.04 avg rating — 806 ratings — published 2014 — 5 editions
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“I should probably apologize for how much I swear, but fuck it. I've read that some people think swearing shows a lack of imagination and a limited vocabulary, but sometimes "darn" and "poop" and "oh heck" just don't cut it. Besides, swearing is kind of fun.”
Bart Yates, Leave Myself Behind

“It seems to be that loneliness is a small price to pay for peace and quiet.”
Bart Yates, The Brothers Bishop

“Love attacks. It sneaks up like a pride of lions or a pack of hyenas and eats your heart out while you watch. Love is the bully on the playground who takes your lunch money and gives you a black eye in return, the arsonist who burns your house down with you in it, the witch who lures you into her home with candy and boils you alive for dinner. Love is raw, and violent, and instantaneous. You don’t fall in love; you get trampled by it.”
Bart Yates

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