Vernon Lott, director of the movie Bad Writing, knows his way out of a sticky situation. When Lott was in his 20s, he wrote a lot and drank a lot and thought a lot about how he wanted to be the next Arthur Rimbaud. Back then he was just a high school dropout intent on manifesting his dreams of becoming a star-studded author. Then things got sticky. Turns out his writing was kind of, um, lousy. Now married and in his 30s, Lott is once again intent on manifesting his dreams, only this time he’s using a film and interviews with authors as a means to better his prose. If the film (which Vernon was kind enough to share with us in its entirety) is any indication of his strengths as a writer, we expect one day to be reading stories and poems that brim with black humor, compelling narratives, and vivid character portraits. Recently Vernon answered our questions about the movie and writing. We thank him for this. — Kevin Murphy

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1.

A box of shells. A hand-me-down belt
A vial of ash from Mount Saint Helens
A felt sleeve, moldering in memory
Under box springs, wreaking

Privately for forty-four years…
Pull it up. Feel the hardwood. Slick heft
The cool gleam of it. Press your cheek to it
Go ahead. Play with the safety

2.

He’s fourteen. Discovering new tricks
Behind the tennis courts. She’s sixteen. It’s love
Then deuce. His palm on the girl’s palm
Trying to hold her racquet back. But she’s

Gifted. Plays without a net. His serve is no
Match. She’s been around the block
Her game doesn’t stop. Her volley comes
Gift-wrapped in lipstick

3.

He’s a father now. No honeysuckle
Stain on his collar. His black powder’s
Turned to an off-white dust on
A dry-rot mantle. She’s only

A ghost now. Wrapped in visqueen
Stashed in the attic for nosy daughters
She holds all these half-truths, &
More. Go ahead. Feel for the spiders––

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Scot Siegel lives in Oregon with his wife and two daughters. He is the author of three volumes of poetry, Some Weather (Plain View Press 2008), Untitled Country (Pudding House Publications 2009), and Skeleton Says (Finishing Line Press, 2010). A second full-length collection is due out from Salmon Poetry in early 2012. His work has recently appeared in Press 1, Front Porch, The Smoking Poet, The Oregonian, and The Centrifugal Eye.

Steadfast, Unchangeable

Earlier this week we returned to sunny South Carolina from NYC sunbaked and dehydrated. Baseball hats and sunscreen do serve a purpose, even at 40°43′N 74°0′W. Currently, though, — in between trips to the water cooler and applications of lotion, of course — we’re trying to find the time to explore Somerset Maugham’s secret lives, as well as William Walsh’s Pathologies. When we finish with that we’ll follow Twain’s Mississippi with Laura Barton and then meet up with E. M. Forster, where we’ll probe (heh) his homosexual journey and the abrupt end to his writing career. Speaking of brevity, check out elimae’s review of Christian TeBordo’s latest collection. And finally, in the spirit of DSM’s summer contest, here’s an interview with chapbooker Mike Heppner, which, to be sure, is a bright burn of a read. Don’t forget your sunglasses. — Andrew Geer

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