Amber Sparks
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You can scroll the shelf using ← and → keys
I’ve been terribly lax blogger, but forgive–I’m on a big road trip seeing old friends and family in the Midwest, and there’s been very little time for blogging. But I do have a deluge of fantastic publications to share with you, so listen up. Oh, and sorry for formatting weirdness–I’m doing this from my iPhone:
Emprise Review’s July issue is www.emprisereview.com, and I’m super excited for you all to read this baby. We have: fiction by Roxane Gay, Jessica Hollander, Sarah Pinsker, Reynard Seifert, Meg Sefton, Adrian Stumpp, Steve Upham, Ajay Vishwanathan, Eugenio Volpe, and Snowden Wright; poetry by Joan Glass, John McKernan, and Shannon Azzato Stephens; an interview and three pieces by our featured writer, Anne Valente; and nonfiction by Sam Bell, Jennifer Spiegel and Chris Wiewora. Whew! Go read!
JMWW’s summer issue is up, and holy crap does it look good. Here: httpSeriously, check out this lineup: George Blecher, Savannah Schroll Guz, Jane Hammons, Jensen Beach, Ryan Ridge, Jensen Beach, Bonnie ZoBell, Jon-Michael Frank, R. A. Allen, Andrew Borgstrom, Kim Chinquee, Robert Coover, Jeremy Davies, Luca DiPierro, Brian Evenson, Lily Hoang, Tim Horvath, Joanna Howard, James Iredell, Brian Kitely, Norman Lock, Robert Lopez, Sean Lovelace, Stacy Muszynski, Ken Sparling, Teresa Svoboda, and J.A. Tyler.
DecomP is up at: http://www.decompmagazine.com/ and featuring new work from Jane Cassady, Hunter Choate, Kat Dixon, Ethan Kilgore, Gary Moshimer, Mike Philbin, Megan Casella Roth, Jon Sands, J. A. Tyler, and Joy Whalen. Additionally, they’ve got reviews of Brendan Connell’s Metrophilias, Thomas Rain Crowe’s The Brucciano Poems, and Christian TeBordo’sThe Awful Possibilities.
Mud Luscious Press’ online quarterly is up to issue twelve now & featuring the work of Gregory Sherl, Daniel Carter, Jack Martin, Parker Tettleton, George Moore, N. God Savage, Howie Good, Diana Kole, Jarrid Deaton, Sean Lovelace, Darby Larson, Tim Roberts, Nicelle Davis, & Robert Kloss. Fiction & poetry for your summer reading pleasure here: http://www.mudlusciouspress.com/twelve
And last but very certainly not least, the always terrific Hobart has gifted us a new online issue, the July Hobart, with fiction from Sara Bohannon, Brian Allen Carr, Travis Kurowski, and Matthew Salesses. Also, an excellent World Cup piece by Karl Taro Greenfeld and interview with Andrew Ervin by Bayo Ojikutu. Check it out here: http://www.hobartpulp.com/website/july/salesses.html
Enjoy your summer holiday, kittens and kids. I know I am/will/have.
My story is called Be Like Us and We Will Like You Maybe. Would you like to know where that title came from? Would you like to know why enjoy evangelizing on behalf of Matt? Are you just really fucking confused now? Well, you’d better click over to Necessary Fiction then.
(Also, thank you, writer-in-residence Roxane!)
Roger Ebert has a beautiful piece up on his blog with his thoughts on the Arizona mural horrorshow and his reflections on growing up with the rest of the country, out of innate racism and into greater understanding towards equality. It’s really lovely, and made me feel a little more hopeful about the situation; it made me feel that these hateful people are a small, small, damaged and sad minority.
I began up above by imagining I was a student in Prescott, Arizona, with my face being painted over. That was easy for me. What I cannot imagine is what it would be like to be one of those people driving past in their cars day after day and screaming hateful things out of the window. How do you get to that place in your life? Were you raised as a racist, or become one on your own? Yes, there was racism involved as my mother let the driver wait outside in the car, but my mother had not evolved past that point at that time. The hard-won social struggles of the 1960s and before have fundamentally altered the feelings most of us breathe, and we have evolved, and that is how America will survive. We are all in this together.
But what about the people in those cars? They don’t breathe that air. They don’t think of the feelings of the kids on the mural. They don’t like those kids in the school. It’s not as if they have reasons. They simply hate. Why would they do that? What have they shut down inside? Why do they resent the rights of others? Our rights must come first before our fears. And our rights are their rights, whoever “they” are.
Read the whole thing here. It’s well worth it.
RIP David Markson, one of the best.
I’ve often and often been inspired by this writer who did things his own way and lent legitimacy to the collagist’s way of writing, and who led me to another favorite, Malcolm Lowry. Great interview with Web Conjunctions in 2007, here.
You really don’t have to suck at your job or suck at your writing. You really can do both well. (Provided, of course, that in this lousy economy you can find a good job.) And this guy proves the point. Like Wallace Stevens, he’s a dedicated career man with a very private life of superb poetry. How cool is that?
Via Bookslut.
She really is a new kind of “politician” (in quotes because is she? Celebritician?). Matt Taibbi explains how she panders to the worst common denominator, probably because she really is part of her target demographic:
Palin has figured out that this is really all you have to do to win elections in this country — flatter middle Americans’ moronic fantasies about themselves. The great thing about flattery is a) you can’t overdo it as hard as you try, and b) it doesn’t pin you down to messy political positions, controversies, things you can be harassed about by Chris Matthews and other press weasels.
It’s basically a risk-free strategy. You get up on stage and you say, “I’m just like all you idiots. And you idiots rock!” People will fall for this stuff. The ingenious part in Sarah Palin’s case is that she probably genuinely believes it.
Taibbi argues that even Dubya never had the same success with these same methods, because he was too used to the high life despite his cowboy image. Palin, on the other hand, really is of the people–her people.
So, I try to stay very neutral in these contests, as somebody who works for a literary publication and writes myself. But in this case I just can’t help it. You can now vote for the winner of the Million Writers Award, and while I’m sure all the writers listed are wonderful (they’d have to be, wouldn’t they?) there is one writer that beyond stands out to me, and that’s Roxane Gay. This particular story is great, yes–and so is this one, and this one, and this one, and this one, and this one, and…
My point is that Roxane is one of the hardest-working, most talented writers out there today, and I know that I’m not the only one who thinks that. Her internet writing has been prolific and great, so I’m happy to see her on this list, getting her due, and would love to see her win this award for the same reason.
So while I’m not going to tell you who to vote for, I will tell you that I think the clear choice is Roxane, and that’s why I’m voting for her.
Because we know you’re not REALLY working, right? You can thank me later:
Read the new issue of PANK, including this very sly story by Kyle Minor.
Get outraged over Arizona’s latest racist move.
Send xTx, writer and blogger and mistress of awesome, a poem or story or thingamajig about ZOMBIES! Because this is the summer of ZOMBIES and she will be featuring these things on her site.
Shout “I declare you to be AN OUTLAW!” every time you answer the phone. God, that movie looks like a dried piece of crap, doesn’t it? Poor Cate Blanchett. It’s not her fault. She is beautiful and talented. And it’s her birthday, so please be nice to her. And why does everyone have to SHOUT so much in movies nowadays? Russell Crowe is probably standing right next to that guy. Although if Russell Crowe were standing next to me, I would shout at him, too. I would shout, MAKE A GOOD MOVIE! But he probably wouldn’t.
Yet another entry in the “Is poetry relevant?” neverending debate/discussion. This one courtesy of Paper Cuts, which includes this interesting bit from Lipsky’s DFW tapes/interview/book.
Put it this way, there are a few really good poets who suffered because of the desiccation and involution of poetry, but for the most part I think American poetry has gotten what it’s deserved. And, uh, it’ll come awake again when poets start speaking to people who have to pay the rent.
What do you think? Has poetry gotten so cloistered, so far from the people, that it’s mostly irrelevant today? Can today’s poets make a comeback? I’m curious, and concerned, about this possible irrelevance and about fiction maybe sliding down the same path. I was a poet until I had a writing professor who asked me if I could write fiction. Sure, I said. I write both. The professor told me, Write fiction if you can. Someone may actually read it someday. Write poetry and the only people who’ll read it are other poets. Is that true? And why? Should you need a MA in poetry to read it?
Frank O’Hara said, “I can’t even enjoy a blade of grass unless I know there’s a subway handy, or a record store, or some other sign that people do not totally *regret* life.”
This is exactly the way I feel. I am a city kid, born and bred, and I can’t handle more than a day away from it. Vacations? To other, bigger cities. I love my restaurants and my mass transit and my sidewalks filled with people. People make me feel safe. I’m pleased as punch with civilization’s progress, and isolated pastoral settings make me think of serial killers. Beaches bore me silly, unless we’re talking Riviera-type beaches, which are really just transplanted cities. I’ll take Central Park if I want some greenery. To me, the skyscaper is ten times more astounding than any mountain. I can’t write when it’s too quiet–I prefer the busy background hum of a coffeeshop.
I realize I’m an outlier, and most of my friends and family are nuts for the great outdoors. Maybe I would be, too, if I were more athletic. And not allergic to trees. And pollen. And grass. And flowers. Do I sound like Woody Allen yet? I do appreciate the beauty of nature. Just, you know, shown on my flatscreen tv.
What about you? City, country, or both? Do feel differently when you write? Do you like to just get away from it all to write, or be right in the thick of it?