Douglas Woolf

Douglas Woolf’s Followers (3)

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Douglas Woolf



Average rating: 3.81 · 54 ratings · 12 reviews · 10 distinct works
Fade Out

3.50 avg rating — 14 ratings — published 1959 — 5 editions
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Ya! & John-Juan

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4.25 avg rating — 8 ratings — published 1971
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Wall to Wall

3.38 avg rating — 8 ratings — published 1962 — 2 editions
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New American Story

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4.60 avg rating — 5 ratings — published 1965 — 3 editions
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Hypocritic Days & Other Tales

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3.33 avg rating — 6 ratings — published 1993 — 3 editions
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On Us

really liked it 4.00 avg rating — 5 ratings — published 1976 — 2 editions
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The Timing Chain

3.75 avg rating — 4 ratings — published 1985
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Future Preconditional: A Co...

4.33 avg rating — 3 ratings
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Signs of a Migrant Worrier

it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 1 rating — published 1965
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Ya & John-Juan

0.00 avg rating — 0 ratings
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More books by Douglas Woolf…
“So they drove again, Vivien sitting up and looking now, but as navigator only, letting the desert scratch its own thorny poetry on the enormous moon.”
Douglas Woolf, Wall to Wall

“Twentyone is too old to go anywhere alone, you know that. I want to go with someone. I don't mean as a bride, I'm not so gauche as that, but as a mistress or paramour or concubine or companion or friend or pal or anything else. I just don't want to be left alone! I want to get out of here!" She said it again for all the wide-faced flowers to hear: "I want to get out of here!”
Douglas Woolf, Wall to Wall

“They looked so familiar that for a moment Claude feared he had doubled back to Mrs. Merritt's city, until a sudden wave of water blinded his wipers and drove him along with everyone else to the curb, where the crackling radio reported an old man had just now been swept from his backyard by a cloudburst, the latest in a series deluging Tulsa. Clinging there to the side of the hill, no hand brake, Claude rode out the storm, stuffing blankets into the cracks under the doors, watching overhead drips as best he could with the babyseat. When the car next in front crept away from the curb, Claude followed as far as a gas station. There he wondered aloud what lay ahead, but the attendant couldn't say, having swum to work just five minutes ago. Now as Claude pulled away the rain suddenly ceased, it seemed from exhaustion, and for the next hundred miles he spun his dial to catch the latest reports: that old man was still missing, he had last been seen floating downhill toward the river, he had been found, he was dead, he was dying, he was still missing... Claude turned off the radio, for he was beyond range of Tulsa, and Joplin had not heard the news yet. He raced in silence toward the night which he knew already had begun not far ahead.”
Douglas Woolf, Wall to Wall

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