Sean Lovelace is running right now, far. Other times he teaches at Ball State University. HOW SOME PEOPLE LIKE THEIR EGGS is his flash fiction collection by Rose Metal Press. His works have appeared in Crazyhorse, Diagram, Sonora Review, Willow Springs, and so on.
5. Aaron Burch interview at new Word Riot. Glow like lung tattoos.
I don’t know. I think one of the interesting things of having been writing stories for a good handful of years now is looking back at stuff and seeing what recurs and finding those fascinations that you weren’t really aware of. I guess I could say something like I believe, often, you have to be taken apart, by yourself or something else, and then be put back together to really grow/change/etc., and so I guess that was kind of what the book became about, though that’s the answer I put together just now for this interview; I’ve certainly never thought of it that prescriptively before, nor was it an intention when working the book.
1. You can buy Andy Warhol’s turtleneck.The same people will sell you Martian Meteorites and Madonna’s appointment books.
February 1999: Pick up dog at daycare. Do crunches. Run LONG! Select polymer for breast cone. Step into groove. Drink 3 ounces lemon juice. Tell Pepsi Co. to go fuck themselves. Wax.
7. If every single poem you wrote was published in mags would you gather those poems and send out the mss? Aren’t they already out in the world?
213. Prime Number Magazine is open for submissions starting now. You miss 100% of publications you never submit to, blar me, rosy tunnel, etc.
Has anyone else been reading Greg Oden’s webpage/blog? (“Greg Oden’s Recent Activity is empty!”) It’s like poetry of the clinically depressed. It’s so honest as to be beautiful.
Well to start, I woke up this morning with an itchy throat and a runny nose.
After media training, I went out to dinner with the little white guy, the really quick one and I think he told me he played soccer all summer.
The second half i went up to the press box because i was getting cold and was tired of standing.
I usually hate it when there is fruit with my meal.
The next night when i woke up i had a puddle of blood where i was sleeping. It was in the spot where my puddle of slobber is usually at.
No one really looks at me as a 19 year old kid, and no one has for a while now.
I never get a chance to just come out and be here to go see the sights and walk around.
Im actually here in Portland right now visiting Nike and on the way here I saw mountains with snow on it, I thought to myself its May.
I sucked worse then anybody who ever played golf, i didnt even have one decent shot.
Its so bad that i watch Cold Case up to 4 in the morning every week night, because it comes on TNT starting at 12 and they play 4 episodes back to back.
When i got back here and i was going to move in i didnt have anything in my room.
I get lost just about everytime I step out my room.
I don’t think I was supposed to do it anyway.
I saw a guy with a Ohio State shirt and I got hype I was like thats amazing someone who loves Ohio State then once i saw 30 more people with the same shirt I was like hold up not all these people like Ohio State, but its ok.
I was quiet most of the time, and when I did talk they told me to speak up.
After that i hung out at home with my dog who i havent seen in over a month.
I can keep going and going but mostly im thankful just to wake up each morning.
1. Reading includes Brett Elizabeth Jenkins (poetry here) and Christopher Newgent (genius) in Indianapolis. Friday, July 23rd, 7:30, Calvin Fletcher Coffee Co. While In Indy, you could drop by Kurt Vonnegut’s house (his baby hand print in the concrete of the steps) or not. And so it goes.
17. This new Adam Langer book/satire (review, review) looks pretty dern interesting and getting buzz for shots at mainstream publishers.
3. Does anyone else read two books at once? Has worked for me lately, and glows best if the two books are vastly different (i.e. I am now reading David Shields death book and Harrison’s desperate prose poem letters to Yesenin). I weave them, usually chapter/chapter and it stays fresh and maybe the compliment/contrast in my brain and also so far the Harrison book is kicking Mr. Shield’s ass.
23. Fuck twitter.
Three disc golf discs, a fillet knife, a bill for salt, and an eggshell book arrived at my door. On the cover a blue goat. I was skeptical/green-eyed, but also glimmed a glow—the book obviously cared for/handmade and who here doesn’t respect a literary artifact? The book is titled The Feeling is Mutual. Written by The Washtenaw County Women’s Poetry Collective & Casserole Society (Amy Berkowitz, Beth Divis, Emma Gorenberg, Elisa McCool & Jessica Young). What in the blar is the WCWPCCS? And where is my casserole?
A true sense of collaboration. A gathering and letting go. None of the poems or recipes has bylines. Possibly penned by any of the WCWPCCS or by all or by their mysterious “appearances by” friends or by the goat tied to the persimmon tree down by the bass pond. (The authors say themselves: “We no longer recognize our own words.”)
The ingredients of this poetic porringer?
(ALMOST) SONNETS, SPOOKLES, QUESTIONS & ANSWERS, RETELLINGS, CASSEROLES
There is a patented capsule of nitrogen inside my bottle of Guinness. It looks like a toy submarine (the type you could once find in cereal boxes and fill with baking soda). The capsule clatters around inside the bottle, but also releases nitrogen that agitates the previously dissolved CO2 and this makes for a clean, creamy, immortal pour and a head like the caps of waves washing upon the shore of Innisfree. That’s a lot of wonk-science (like $13 million worth) for a fucking beer, but then again this is Guinness.
This is a fine book. I mean the real deal. Let’s begin with the (almost) sonnets.
1. Ken Sparling. 2. Stace Budzko. 3. Kim Chinquee 4. Elysia Smith. 5. Shya Scanlon 6. Aimee Nezhukumatathil 7. Mark Ehling.
8. Damian Dressick. 9. Jac Jemc. 10. Peter Gradbois 11. David Shumate. 12. Jesse Goolsby. 13. Caroline Zilk. 14. Molly Gaudry.
Firework by Eugene Marten has one of the most amazing endings I have ever eyed in literature. I read the ending 3 times. Just the ending. It made me feel like a dropped doll or a foghorn playing Tupac or a person who couldn’t draw freehand at all except for horses, could do excellent horses, etc. Amazing. Please buy this book. It is short fuse, independent, G-string, and prayerful–a word people keep using on Facebook. After I read Marten I prayed he will write a similar book and I’ll be alive to read the glow.
But this isn’t about Firework. Rather fireworks. Ah, Scorch Atlas, that ear trumpet. That brushed steel mobile home. A sign of a good book is you can’t kill the thing…but I am stoic and persistent and dumb to criticism, like any good American.
Enjoy:
A great tradition would be to make Independence Day into “Independent” Day. Buy one book from an independent press today, I ask you. I went with Pathologies by William Walsh. Keyhole Press. You?
My yard needs cutting so I drank bottle-o-vodka tonight and shot at Blake’s book. There is something inevitable there. Missed twice, but bow season isn’t until October. I am happy Scorch Atlas is not a liver or a lung. A longing like 16 and first making out in a car. Failure to listen to reasoning. Etc. This was my first warm-up. I’ll be back, Butler. I’ll be back. (Arrows end at 20 seconds {my peep-sight snaps is why!}, after that just more birds and kids walking into frame {danger!} and stupid shit)
[There will be many takes coming–I will destroy this fucking book]
Also: What is the best way for me to edit iPhone videos? (on a PC) That would solve everything after 20 seconds. [Jimmy? I bet you know]
14. Flash, prose, short thing? This is your last day to enter the Fineline contest.
2. There is a Gordon Lish Facebook page.
7. Ten best short story collections? Maybe…
5. Here is that David Foster Wallace piece about Federer you should read every year around Wimbledon.
1. Sexcast # 8: Interview/podcast with Roxana Shirazi, author of The last Living Slut: Born in Iran, Bred Backstage.