Tuesday, March 31, 2015

NaPoWriMo & Queen Mob Teahouse News

This year I'll again be participating in NaPoWriMo over at my tumblr: Psychic Novel & Poems, Inc.

It should be fun and a mess, but whatever.

If you're participating yourself this year and looking for prompts, may I suggest the Bibliomancy Oracle. As of this posting, there are 2800+ potential prophecies/prompts/divine answers.



Would you like to be a regular contributor to Queen Mob's Teahouse? The editors are looking for 4 or 5 regular contributors and an assistant editor. Details here.

If you can't commit to a regular writing gig, Queen Mob is always looking for people to write occasional reviews and essays. Details here.



There are some new Poemblots for Bruce Covey, Cynthia Arrieu-King and Michael Gushue.




wrote a collage poem using a PR release and another poet's work. Taking someone else's words and making them your own is a lot of fun and easy. I'm considering writing all my poems this way. It would really up my productivity level.


in other words . . .
greater rhetorical awareness: the paradox faced by language-users
virtually no one actually understands the principles

he feels a murderous rage toward his community but swallows
to rescue language from a perversion of language
from social media to blog posts: any way that content can be delivered

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Reb Livingston Suggests Everything


Inspired by a Borges reading list that was making the rounds, I'm doing a new regular feature at Queen Mob's called Reb Livingston Suggests Books For Your Personal Library. I plan on adding books for the rest of eternity.

And there are new Poemblots for poems by Sarah FoxTarfia FaizullahTeresa BallardLynn Behrendt, G. M. Palmer and Brent Terry.

Unless you're living under a bookless news rock, you've heard about Hausfrau, the new book by G's godmother, Jill Alexander Essbaum, coming out in a few days.

Yeah, I plan on spending all next week hanging out by the front table at my local Barnes and Noble saying, "That's my son's godmother, you know."

I will also be passing out flyers highlighting all the kick ass small presses who were publishing Jill's excellent books long before the big dogs ever heard of her.

Heaven (Bakeless Prize, selected by Agha Shahid Ali, published by Middlebury Press, 2000)

Oh Forbidden (editor H. Palmer Hall, Grove Press, 2005)

Harlot (editor, ahem, published by No Tell Books, 2007)

Necropolis (editor Neil Ellis Orts, published by neoNuma Arts, 2008)

The Devastation (editor Adam Deutsch, published by Cooper Dillon Books, 2009)


I suggest you get the entire Jill Alexander Essbaum backlist in addition to Hausfrau.

I suggest you do it now.



Friday, February 27, 2015

Galatea Resurrects Book Prize Selection

Bombyonder is Galatea Resurrects' Book Prize Selection. That means if you review a book for the next issue of GR, you receive a complimentary copy of Bombyonder. 

More details here.

Thank you Eileen Tabios!

Monday, February 23, 2015

Bombyonder Excerpt at Berfrois


Berfrois published an excerpt of Bombyonder:
Does the bomb target their emotions? Could we make the enemy love us? Make them stop desiring what we don’t want them to desire and weren’t going to let them have in the first place? A massacre of want? Of needs? What exactly are we annihilating?
My father wasn’t specific, but aloof and silent, like my father. In those days I knew so little of my inherited gifts and precious curses. The gift was the curse and the curse was the gift. The gift arrived on a bomb and curse wrapped the gift in tinsel. After you swallow the gift it takes a while to digest, not everything easily makes its way through and what comes out can be a bit unsightly. That was the conundrum. What to do with all the unwanted, undumpable crap. It didn’t go away on its own.
What if everyone in my neighborhood stood on our roofs and shot down planes, behaving like goddamn sky terrorists, instigating the army to drop this kind of bomb on top of us? What exactly would happen to us as we stood shooting our guns on our roofs?
A nearby soldier claimed that the bomb would have to fall directly on top of someone to kill him. He claimed to have seen it happen in battle to a good man who deserved better and god bless his soul. But my father claimed that even if the bomb directly hit a person, the event would not kill, only change him. Now this change might be that the person wished to die and if the following chain of events led to death, well that’s another thing entirely and it would be unfair to pin such results on a perfectly kind bomb.

READ ENTIRE EXCERPT 

 Buy Bombyonder ($15 paperback; $7.99 ebook)

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Poemblots



The newest feature I'm working on at Queen Mob's Teahouse is called Poemblot.


Poemblot (as in inkblot) is where a general reader (i.e. someone who does not have an educational or professional background in writing or literature) is shown a poem and asked to offer an immediate impression. The reader reads the poem no more than twice and is not given any instruction on how to read it or information about the author. One of the purposes of Poemblot is to explore the different perceptions and assumptions readers bring to a text. The readers' full names will not be shared to protect them from rampaging, ego-bruised poets on social media. Instead we'll offer some basic background information and a representational photo provided by each reader as a framework for who they are.

There's two up so far: a poem by Brent Terry, a second by G. M.  Palmer and more to come soon.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

redux and unwritten



I have two new posts up at Queen Mob's Teahouse. The first one is a series of book ideas I have yet to write. Please don't steal my ideas. Thank you.

* * *


The second post is a reprint from a post that first appeared elsewhere in 2010, but is no longer available online: Advice to (M)other(F)ucking Ho(A)rd(s) – REDUX.

I know it was popular and what people liked to read about, but aside from the occasional snarky tweet, I long tired of writing about publishing and pobiz in general. After a few years, I didn't haven't anything new to say. A lot has actually changed these past few years and I'm not even sure I have a firm grasp of what's going on at the moment. So I found it funny that a post that Jeremy Spencer wrote at Real Pants where he quoted from a post I wrote in 2011 got so much attention this past week. More attention than anything I've written recently. Clearly it's what people want to read about.

I might write about that in the near future. Thankfully I'm a poet and used to people not being interested in what I'm interested. Otherwise my feelings might be hurt.


Friday, January 30, 2015

"one of literature’s most unreliable narrators: a murderous, narcissistic, yet oddly appealing young woman"

Brent Terry reviews Bombyonder at Cleaver Magazine:

Welcome to the crater. Keep your head down, your eyes open, and try not to lose your lunch…or your mind. Your guide on this journey is one of literature’s most unreliable narrators: a murderous, narcissistic, yet oddly appealing young woman on a quest through the bombed-out wreckage of her own psyche, in search of a past she can hang her hat on, a future that tells the truth, the real nature of her bomb-maker father’s legacy, and a little birdy that might make everything turn out okay.

Reb Livingston’s literary forbears are legion. In this compellingly daft, lyrical, and mind-expanding novel we find traces of Sophocles, Lewis Carrol, Vonnegut, the Nabokov of Pale Fire, Hunter S. Thompson, Gertrude Stein, and Shelley—both of them—all run through the cerebral cortex of Tim Burton, put in a pill and swallowed whole by Livingston, the effect of which is an acid-trip of a novel that requires every bit of guile and courage a reader can muster. Livingston is best known as a poet, (with two critically acclaimed books and a Best American Poetry appearance to her credit) and her poetic sensibilities guide this book: not magical realism, but hyper-realism smashed to bits and reassembled, reanimated, and turned loose among the unsuspecting villagers.