Till Tuesday. Happy Memorial Day weekend.

It's Coming Today...

This week Roland Goity, editor of LITnIMAGE, received an 1186 day form rejection from the Notre Dame Review. 1186 days is over three years. A quick look at my own submission history reveals that I’ve only had a handful of publications take longer than a year and a half to reject or accept me and that’s out of hundreds of submissions.

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Lately there’s been talk about literary crushes. I have one on Sean Lovelace. It’s his name, for one. Sean Lovelace. I think it’s also his “bad boy” image. That man spits nachos and hard truths, holds nothing back. I should be intimidated. I’m not. His writing gets stranger and stranger, flips the mother bird at “rules” and “tradition.” I should be turned-off. I’m not. He’s liable to do or say anything. It thrills my Irish Catholic girlie soul.

–Ethel Rohan

Writing-wise, where are you now? Where are you going?

This question sounds like a Joyce Carol Oates story [smooth]. I am now working on two projects.

One is Drinking & Ebaying. A series of flash fictions and short stories built around this activity (example:http://www.everyday-genius.com/2009/09/sean-lovelace.html). I used to do a lot of drinking & Ebaying. I once bid $9000 for a Sherlock Holmes action figure [Rohan sees bad boy + money, swoons]. Another time I bought a pillow for a dollhouse. I do not own a dollhouse. So far I have written 3 pieces for this project, but, hey, summer is right around the bend.

The second project is a series of flash fictions about universities. There are 26 of them, University A to University Z. Again, I have written 3 of them. One is about blood, one about tree limbs, one about a herd of tame antelope, but all set on universities.

After that I have no idea where I am going.

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Look at that horned, anthropomorphic skull! When we first picked up Live From Fresno y Los, we have to admit we were a bit frightened. But then we looked closer, and thought that instead of being a frightening skull the image might actually be a ceremonial Day of the Dead mask. That soothed us, and our fear dissipated, just like that. “Fucking cool,” we thought. Now we think that more books should come with anthropomorphic skulls and ceremonial masks on their covers. But no pop-ups, please. That might just give us the heebie jeebies.

Like its cover image, author Stephen D. Gutierrez’s latest story collection is remarkable. In eight stories totaling a mere 120 pages, this collection is far more than a candid, succinct portrait of west coast, Chicano suburbia in the 1960s and 70s. These stories show vestiges in both style and tone. There are reminiscences of Carver, Faulkner, Gilb, even Kerouac. One of our favorites is “Feeding the People,” which exemplifies a Beat influence and dazzles with magical realism and melodious riffs of words and phrases:

“Helen’s song, man,” singing, singing, “Helen’s song.”

These guys are rocking. They’re in full swing. My Wetbacks! They’ve competently acclimated and adjusted. Fully soaked, with Mexico-shaped maps splashed on the backs of their thin t-shirts and huaraches nearly falling apart, they’ve found a groove astounding to all.

Carlos Santana nods at me from the wings when I walk into the studio. He gives me a brown what’s happening, offering me the shake, Chicano style, from the Mission, which I don’t know, having learned my shake on the streets of Los. But we work it out. I speak the lingo, though.

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