We are glad to announce that past contributor Deborah Bogen has recently released a collection of poems titled In Case of Sudden Free Fall. The collection has already received recognition from poet and actress Hélène Cardona, who called Deborah’s writing “a delicious gem” worth revisiting. Purchase a copy of In Case of Sudden Free Fall from Jacar Presshere.
To read four poems by Deborah in Issue 4 of Superstition Review click here.
Today we are pleased to feature author Jonathan Cardew as our Authors Talk series contributor. Jonathan discusses the work experiences that let “The Story of the Elephant” and its characters come to him.
Jonathan speaks intriguingly about what draws him to flash fiction. He notes his love for ellipses and the fact that anything can happen even after the end of such a short story, that the story “could be about anything or nothing.”
Today, we here at Superstition Review want to take time to mourn the loss of past contributor Brian Doyle, who passed away in May at the age of 60. Brian’s writing first appeared in Issue 2 of Superstition Review, and he later became a frequent guest post contributor for our blog. We will always remember Brian’s abundant generosity.
We were grateful for the announcement of the release of his book Eight Whopping Lies and Other Stories of Bruised Grace, which he was working on at the time of his tragic death. In this collection of essays, Brian writes about the “I love you” that goes unsaid, the brooding shadows in our hearts, and finding God in the unlikeliest of places. We are honored to have been given the opportunity to read and share his extraordinary tales with the world, which left a legacy of love and compassion that will not be easily forgotten.
Purchase a copy of Eight Whopping Lies and Other Stories of Bruised Grace from Franciscan Mediahere.
Click here to read Brian’s guest posts for our blog, and here to read his essay, “Welcome Home Dick Queen!” in Issue 2 of Superstition Review.
Dedication: For all writers who struggle with mental illness. But particularly, for Aubrie Cox Warner and Jill Talbot who, whether they realize it or not, continue to inspire me to be vulnerable and open. With thanks to Ben Barnes for assistance with self-portraits and so much more.
We are pleased to announce that past contributor Kamilah Aisha Moon has recently released a collection of poems titled Starshine & Clay. Listen to the sample poem “Mercy Beach” from Starshine & Clayhere, and purchase your copy now at Four Way Books.
Kamilah’s nonfiction piece “Rikers Island Writing Workshop” in issue 10 of Superstition Review can be read here.
Today we have some exciting news from past contributor Aimée Baker. Aimée’s manuscript, Doe, won the 2016 Akron Poetry Prize and is available for purchase. Doe documents the stories of missing and unidentified women in the United States, and has received high praise from Allison Joseph, the 2016 Akron Poetry Prize judge, who labeled it a “game changer” and “silence eliminator.” You can purchase a copy here.
Aimée read in our SR reading series in spring 2008. Congratulations!
Hello everyone! Today we are excited to share that past contributor Patricia Ann McNair has a new book out titled And These Are The Good Times, a collection of essays which include a couple of pieces Patricia wrote for our very own blog.
A recent Booklist review by Donna Seaman states, “McNair proves to be an irresistible personal essayist of refreshing candor, vibrant openheartedness, rueful humor, and unassuming wisdom.” Don’t miss out on this opportunity and click here to buy yourself a copy!
Read “Just Like That” by Patricia in issue 3 of Superstition Reviewhere.
I realized I wasn’t ready to write a poem about decorum when I couldn’t tell how an epigraph from the Budd Dwyer suicide video would play to the average person. In particular, I wanted to quote the press secretary’s plea for onlookers to “show a little decorum, please,” since it made me realize how strange the act of demanding/measuring civility is. That use of such a line might come off as disrespectful did occur to me, though, and I was forced to do some measuring myself.
With tastefulness just out of reach, I couldn’t plan any further until I eliminated all of the other weighted words that might muddy my understanding of the one. “Aesthetic” was out, since it brought too broad of a focus, and since I‘d lost Eco’s “On Ugliness” to a basement flood. The same went for “Ethics,” which should be a part of everything, and so should be the cedar dinner table, and not woodchips in the meal. “Taboo,” as a near-synonym for “bad taste,” might provide me with the dangerous shelter of circular reasoning. Gone too were excuses; I vowed not to namedrop or allude to Bataille in some attempt to blame my own lack of taste on a literary precedent.
I then thought of others’ approaches to decorum, and of the way I tended to process them, and turn them out in the cold in various states of dress. For instance, when processing a friend’s death, I had made a list of drug overdose scenes in films of all kinds. When I returned to it later, I considered how the scenes ranged from visceral bursts of close-up special effects to a single shot of a shoeless foot in a doorway. I found myself shopping the list for certain types of impacts, and was struck most by a scene from In a Glass Cage, in which the director instructed the child actor to behave like a fish out of water after his character had been injected with gasoline. This scene, I felt, defied good taste in an interesting way, as any apologetic attempt I might make to soften its imagery by adding context (“Don’t worry; it’s another child who administers the injection,” or “he does it to impress his adult captive, a paralyzed doctor”) only deepened the tastelessness. That I feel the need to apologize after describing this scene, which I did not create, says as much about decorum as does the scene itself.
Therefore, apology seems to be what holds decorum together. If I get caught mouthing a scream into a restroom mirror, I might apologize for doing it and the observer might apologize for seeing, even though he’s not done anything socially wrong. Some people even push apology into the realm of atonement, like Sarah Winchester, designer of the labyrinthine Winchester house. She required builders to continually add on to the house to appease the ghosts of those who were killed by Winchester firearms, until the house became a hodgepodge of doors to nowhere and staircases into solid ceiling. It’s what “I’m sorry for everyone else” might look like in concrete form.
Though this didn’t put me off decorum altogether, I was (and am now) more inclined to risk tastelessness if the alternative is a thousand doors to nowhere. I plan to continue to use the line from the suicide video, though probably not as an epigraph; I’d want to control the context, so that it worked to honor truth, instead of repulsing readers with irreverence. I could think of it as mapping the terrain: Identifying the staircases that always lead to a bloody nose, only using them when I need a bloody nose, stumbling down uncharted ones. I might practice my quiet scream in the restroom mirror (my late friend, of course, not there to excuse me), and see what dialogue comes in absence of an apology.
Hello everyone! Today we have some extremely exciting news to share. Our very own poetry advisor, Mark Haunschild, has been chosen as the featured poet this month in A Dozen Nothing. His awesome poems such as: “Wagstaff”, “An Exit”, “Cairn”, and many more can be read on their website here.
Mark has served as a poetry advisor for Superstition Review since issue 6 in Fall 2010.
Today we are excited to announce that our former interview advisor, Valerie Bandura, has been recently featured on Verse Daily. Her poem “Evil” from her collection of poems, Human Interest, can be read on their website here. If you end up loving it (which you most probably will) go grab yourself a copy of Human Interest, in which Valerie talks about game shows, Kardashians, bad fathers, Black Sabbath, and much more. To do so click here!