slaw
- The Broken Plate is open for submissions until the end of October. This magazine is run by undergraduate students in a literary practicum class at BSU. I can personally vouch the end product as a glow print artifact for holding your words. Think of it this way: service. These are students learning to edit. You could help them along their way. Do send.
- Stoked Press would be, uh, stoked if you would submit. Tyler Gobble likes to wear sleeveless shirts in the spring and you wouldn’t want to bring children to a Layne Ransom reading, if that helps you get mouth-feel for the pub. Submit like a vertebrae.
- The International Algae Competition in Algae Landscape Design is only open until Oct 11! Get growing, I advise. I bet some of you knowledge base hydroponics.
- Hobart needs more stuff about luck. Think of this way: If they accept you, you kick dino-ass. If they blar your work, no worries. It was just bad luck. Here is a pretty epic “wish-list” and I wish more editors would do this, announce what they are thinking, on a rolling level, week to week–I feel it germinates a writer. This list has made me write. I see a future where editors throw out sparks like such as this. Glow.
- Can someone confirm or deny that Brautigan left a suicide note saying “Messy, isn’t it”? It smacks of mean, lazy urban legend and sort of pisses me off.
- Creative Nonfiction would like your “True Crime” stories. All of my favorites are Morrissey songs. No, no, here’s my favorite: I’m a Memphis teenager. I shoplift Pac-man cards. I walk outside the mall and 5 kids surround me, threaten to go exponential on my spleen, rob me, of my stolen cards. Irony? I hate that dumb word. This: welcome to Memphis.
- John Dermot Woods–drawings or words or source material–is bad-ass right here, right now. Just saying.
- Betty has collected 11,020 labels from bananas. In a hundred years, we will know Betty. Us? Never. It makes you wonder.
- Airplane Reading is surprisingly OK, these little flashes about flying on airplanes. They want you. Fly.
- Go right ahead, friend. The entry fee is one dollar, sixty cents.
poem before you might go out dancing tonight
From the new issue of The Broken Plate. A poem by Ryan Ridge.
Acceptance
Dear Ryan,
We enjoyed reading your poems. They were fun, but unfortunately they didn’t work for us, so we’ll have to pass. However, we would like to have you over for dinner next Tuesday at 6 pm.
Sincerely,
Mom & Dad
Mr. Hathaway
Clocked-in a reading recently by Mitchell L. H. Douglas. I was immediately glow, since he writes Persona Texts (I call them), specifically Donny Hathaway, his family and friends, his life.
Douglas is on a mission. He feels we have forgotten Donny Hathaway.
Many of the poems are the same poem, rewritten, reformed, re-done. Like jazz or mornings. Spun off into new territories, into improvs and pops and jams.
I was impressed. I told a student: “I want you to read his book and interview that poet.” A perk of teaching college is that you can assign such notions and the student pretty much will follow through. Grades are involved and so on. The student is named Aaron. This interview appears in the 2010 Broken Plate. And now online below:
5 swank stalls of roaring!
1.This dork will grant you a Lorrie Moore book.
2. We don’t want your damn glowing buoy things in our river, arty-farty.
3. Oh no we copy edited The Broken Plate 7 full times and should have done 8. Sweet mag but we konked up some of the table of contents. Like the page #s might not match the author’s work. Uh, sorry.
4. Publisher Or Books has had enough of Amazon’s bullshit.
5. I almost forgot to mention Tao Lin. Whew. Hold up. Here’s a classical album on Ebay. Art work, something.