James Dorr's Blog, page 19

Three-Hour Storytime Part of Backspace Art Fest

This had been the announcement in the Writers Guild Newsletter September:

CALLING Demonic Agony Aunts and Performers who like to walk the spooky dark side.

HAUNTED GALLERY IN BACK SPACE

The Writers Guild is working with Backspace Gallery to host a haunted house-type attraction in their galleries every Fri and Sat the month of October. This installation will be co-sponsored with BAC grants awarded to Backspace, Urban Deer Record Co., and the Writers Guild.

And to the point. . . .

We are also co-sponsoring spooky readings, your work or others or a mix. This will be kind of vaudeville-style where a group will move through the performance space, listen/watch for a bit, and move on, so you’ll read for 2-3 minutes at a time. No need to be in costume but spooky/creepy/macabre attire is strongly encouraged.

So I ended up signed for two Saturday stints (for unrelated reasons, my Fridays were already taken this month), from 5-8 p.m., on the first and third weeks. That is, this evening just passed and October 21st. And last night, it happened, there was no story reading (I’d stopped in briefly myself to check things out and, as coordinator Tony Brewer confirmed this evening, there’d been a last-minute cancellation, with two musicians from Urban Deer filling the space instead), so I was the first in what was still uncharted territory. Which meant some experimentation when I came in at 4:30.

But no problem. Impressed myself by the improvised music Friday, I’d already e-suggested we might keep it in as background for the readings too. Then a testing of “mics,” concluding that, as a change of setup, a hand-held microphone would work best (albeit being a bit of a pain when I, reading by preference from printed MSS, had to turn pages).

Then also, when the event began, that shorter five-minute or so tales (the “2-3 minutes” of the call being long since abandoned as a chimera) worked better than longer ones, adding some improvised patter between stories for those who might linger (“. . . it won’t be a good story, but it won’t be a bad one either. It will be a horrible story.” Hey, nobody said this was high art). But the thing is, it worked. The crowds weren’t large, but when there were gaps — which there would be anyway, or else one would find some other excuse — there were chances to take a break. Cokes from the refreshment stand helped keep my throat from getting too dry, and listeners seemed to be appreciative. . . .

Or in short, while grueling (it was still three hours) it was rather fun.

October First Wednesday Brings Funerals, Magic

It’s not too early. So, for its Backspace Gallery pre-Halloween session, the Bloomington Writers Guild’s First Wednesday Spoken Word (cf. September 6, et al.) brought writer, teacher, and stage magician Thomas Hastings with a demonstration of several tricks involving ropes — including a simplified version of the “Indian rope trick” which, according to him, was actually invented in Chicago. And to add to the magic, then reading several poems from his collection CROP CIRCLE SECRETS (Muse Rules Press, 2004) on such things as UFOs (under whatever name) and other assorted “popular-belief” wonders.

His was the second reading to an audience of just under 20 people, beginning at 6 p.m., in a program opening with composer/musician DREKKA presenting electronic melodies spiced with on-the-spot physical sound effects, both haunting and strangely immersive. Then the first of the featured readers was . . . me . . . with a Victorian tale of death and funerals, “The Re-Possessed,” originally published in CEMETERY RIOTS (Elysium Press, 2016) as well as 25 GATES OF HELL (Kydala Publishing, 2020), in an attempt to address the age old question: “What does an undertaker do when the bereaved declines to pay the bill?”

Then, after a final piece by DREKKA followed by a brief intermission, seven “Open Mic” readers offered poetry, stories, and creative nonfiction to a remaining group of about a dozen, to end for October at just before 9.

Mixed Forms Rule at October 1st Sunday Prose

Due to sharing a day with the city’s Fourth Street Arts Festival, there was no September “Bloomington Writers Guild’s First Sunday Prose and Open Mic” (cf. August 6, May 7, et al.). And today’s, for October, had to compete with a lovely, warm day, drenched in Sun. — perhaps the final weekend this year to have summer-like weather.

That said, two Guild notables were featured this time in the back conference area at Morgenstern’s Books, though only drawing a middling crowd of about a dozen. Sunny days do that. First was an old friend to this column, Writers Guild founding member and student of Women Writing for Change, Tonia Matthew, with two essays, the shortish “Chasing Supermoons” followed by a longer “Traveling With Stanley,” the latter about a trip to Greece when she was 18, still living in England, and just out of high school. Then second, “3rd Sunday Write” facilitator Shana Ritter offered “three very different pieces”: a short short story, “The Invitation,” a personal essay, “Blindsided,” and an excerpt from her 2019 historical novel, IN THE TIME OF LEAVING, on the 1492 expulsion of the Jews from Spain.

After the break it was “Open Mic” time with, aided by some confusion on the sign-up list, me first of five with a tongue-in-cheek early Halloween story, “Smashing Pumpkins,” explaining (among other things) the last-few-years fear of clowns seen in the woods, and why it’s important to vote the week after.

Sept. 3rd Sunday Write (for Me) Is On 4th

My bad. The prompts came this month pretty well on schedule, but it’s been a busy time for me on other projects so it’s my delay that brings this on the fourth Sunday this month. So it goes.

So the prompt I’ve chosen for actual “Bloomington Writers Guild Third Sunday Write,” but a full week late (also I prefer to read the prompts cold, to allow for a still-spontaneous response — so this goes for reading/commenting on other people’s responses as well) is:

1. What would you do with a bushel of apples?

I’d throw them, I’d whack them, I’d practice my pitches,
I’d pass them like footballs at Halloween witches.
I’d pound them, I’d mash them, to cider both hard and soft;
Saturday nights I’d spend drinking (burp!) in my loft.
Most though I’d save for when the circus is in town,
toss them in front of the big parade,
and watch while the Elephant, squishing them underfoot,
slips and falls down!

At the top I also added this (which I’ve sort of put at the top here, too): Sorry to be on this so late — it’s been a busy, busy week (and maybe I’m feeling just a little bit goofy). . . .

Rabbit Hole, Marcie Revisited, Cover Revealed

Some things move swiftly. We have an announced publication date for THE RABBIT HOLE, VOL. VI, with my story “Marcie and Her Sisters” (see just below, September 14, et al.), for late October. And as of now we have a release of the cover as well.

Of THE RABBIT HOLE, to continue the call partially quoted below, [w]hat we’re looking for are odd, unusual stories where the journey can be the destination, or the destination the journey, anything at all — happy, sad, good, bad, or even indifferent. Stories can emphasize whatever floats, or sinks, your boat. Just remember to keep it weird as befitting a trip down the Rabbit Hole. And as for my story, keeping in mind the odd, the unusual, quoting myself now from May 31, “Marcie and Her Sisters” decide one day they might marry zombies — or do they? In any event, the journey (ah, now!) is not one wholly filled with flowers and butterflies. Oh, no! Nor is the narrator entirely reliable. . . .

In other words, a love story. Perfect for Halloween when days are chill, the nights growing longer — and “Marcie” is only one of a total of 39 stories in nearly 350 pages! At least as in the contents of Thursday’s “semi-proof.”

(And to add a small note, THE RABBIT HOLE VI has charity ties as well, with an option for royalties to go to the Against Malaria Foundation.)

Rabbit Hole, Marcie “Semi-Proof” Arrived, OKed

Came the email Thursday morning: Attached is a pdf file containing the semi-proof of THE RABBIT HOLE VI. I call it a semi-proof because the pagination will probably change for both the e-book and the paperback. Also, I may still have to make some adjustments where one line of a story or bio runs over to be an entire page (a bit of a waste). Anyway, that’s my problem. What I need from you is the following: Well, pretty much the usual, corrections of any errors found (only two, it turned out, and one of them a citation), double check the spelling of my name (contents page, bio, as well byline on the story proper). . . .

And so, done Thursday evening, back it has gone a bit before supper.

The story: “Marcie and her Sisters” (cf. May 31), originally published in the movie-oriented anthology REEL DARK (BlackWyrm Publishing, 2015), and now being revived by The Writers’ Co-op for their sixth annual THE RABBIT HOLE anthology, under the theme “Destination: Journey.” In a simple sense [to quote the original call] the journey itself being the destination can be taken literally or as a metaphor for life. On the other hand, as a non-sequitur it can mean almost anything — think Kafka, Bierce, Serling, or Lovecraft — and we’re really looking forward to your interpretation, because falling into the Rabbit Hole is always a strange and different experience.

In this case, think of a tale with maybe a tiny nod to Woody Allen’s HANNAH AND HER SISTERS, but this time with zombies. Or are they really?

Or who are we to believe anything that Marcie might have to say?

Maybe we’ll all find out together in THE RABBIT HOLE, VOL. VI, currently slated (if all goes well) for a publishing date of late October — just in time for Halloween. With more to be here as it becomes known.

Mammoth Royalty Report for September

Royalties. Yes, they keep dribbling in (cf., e.g., June 24 et al.) — in this case actually for sales for 2023’s first six months. And despite, in the publisher’s own words, [s]ales were abysmal, but some — few — of you have money coming. Although I’m not really quite one of the “few” since, despite this latest take, it remains in the pot until there’s enough there to justify postage to send me a check.

Yes, “check” — as the publisher (who as is the custom will not be named here, nor will actual amounts, to avoid embarrassment all around) explains, PayPal surcharges are high enough these days to cut more than the stamps would.

But it all adds up, still. And these are for short stories, in this case collected for several different anthologies, but the point is that they’re shared with other contributing authors as well. Each of us with our own mite. But as I pointed out (the publisher asked for us to acknowledge receiving the report — after months and years sometimes addresses change), with poor sales especially it’s neat that there’s anything there at all.

And that’s the point, sort of. Few of us in the writing game make that much money — especially not from continued short fiction anthology sales — but there’s still bragging rights. Art, even for just art’s sake, is worth pursuing. And little dabs of money, repeated, given enough time may grow into piles.

1st Wednesday for September Subs for August Short Session

It wasn’t supposed to be, this evening’s Bloomington Writers Guild’s First Wednesday Spoken Word (cf. July 5, May 3, et al.), due to the Labor Day weekend’s Annual Bloomington Arts Fair with its spoken word stage, except that a re-organization this year caused the spoken word stage part to not be held. There was still a Writers Guild booth at the Fair as well as its popular “Poetry on Demand” feature, but also as a result, the usually skipped otherwise-directly-following September Wednesday’s “Spoken Word” was reinstated in compensation, this time to be an all “Open Mic” session.

Following me so far? So also, in August, because of a later-evening event including Guild officers Joan Hawkins and Tony Brewer, the normal “First Wednesday” that month was cut short by omitting the Open Mic portion that evening (thus, also, no report here last month as I wasn’t a participant either).

So it evens out, sort of.

Or anyway, the”All Open-Mic Bloomington Writers Guild First Wednesday Spoken Word” session this evening at downtown Bloomington’s Backspace Gallery, perhaps in part due to its late-minute, cobbled-together nature, drew only ten people but of which eight were readers, which made for an appreciative if smallish crowd. And the smallness in turn meant that everyone had a chance to read twice which in my case, due to my having missed June’s regular session (a competing engagement) as well as the August non-session, and thus having two of my ongoing five-part “Casket Suite” tales of the plucky New Orleanian vampiresses, les filles à les caissettes — a.k.a. “Casket Girls” — still unread, I was able to read, first, a very-short part 4, “Shades of Difference” in which les filles discuss the color red and why it’s the vampiresses’ favorite color. And then in the “encore round,” the final fifth part, “What’s in a Name?” where Aimée laments that although she wishes to be loved by all, there are still some who insist on holding her being a vampire against her.

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(Note: Aimée, of course, takes pride in her raven-black hair; thus the illustration here perhaps being an informal portrait of Lo?)

First Wednesday for Sept. Subs for August Short Session

It wasn’t supposed to be, this evening’s Bloomington Writers Guild’s First Wednesday Spoken Word (cf. July 5, May 3, et al.), due to the Labor Day weekend’s Annual Bloomington Arts Fair with its spoken word stage, except that a re-organization this year caused the spoken word stage part to not be held. There was still a Writers Guild booth at the Fair as well as its popular “Poetry on Demand” feature, but also as a result, the usually skipped otherwise-directly-following September Wednesday’s “Spoken Word” was reinstated in compensation, this time to be an all “Open Mic” session.

Following me so far? So also, in August, because of a later-evening event including Guild officers Joan Hawkins and Tony Brewer, the normal “First Wednesday” that month was cut short by omitting the Open Mic portion that evening (thus, also, no report here last month as I wasn’t a participant either).

So it evens out, sort of.

Or anyway, the”All Open-Mic Bloomington Writers Guild First Wednesday Spoken Word” session this evening at downtown Bloomington’s Backspace Gallery, perhaps in part due to its late-minute, cobbled-together nature drew only ten people, but of which eight were readers, which made for an appreciative if smallish crowd. And the smallness in turn meant that everyone had a chance to read twice which in my case, due to my having missed June’s regular session (a competing engagement) as well as the August non-session, and thus having two of my ongoing five-part “Casket Suite” tales of the plucky New Orleanian vampiresses, les filles à les caissettes a.k.a. “Casket Girls” still unread, I was able to read, first, a very-short part 4, “Shades of Difference” in which les filles discuss the color red and why it’s the vampiresses’ favorite color. And then in the “encore round.” the final fifth part, “What’s in a Name?” where Aimée laments that although she wishes to be loved by all, there are still some who insist on holding her being a vampire against her.

.
(Note: Aimée, of course, takes pride in her raven-black hair; thus the illustration here perhaps being an informal portrait of Lo?)

Last Sunday Poetry Brings Flannelly, Abegunde, and Baths

August’s Bloomington Writers Guild “Last Sunday Poetry Reading and Open Mic” at Morgenstern Books (cf. July 30, June 25, et al.) began with multimedia poet and Butler University Creative Writing MFA student Bree Jo’ann Flannelly reading a group of “more recent” poems, followed with two from her book BLACK GLITTER (Monster House Press, 2018), a short story, and a final poem capping it off. She was followed by multi-published poet and Indiana University faculty member in African American and African Diaspora Studies, as well as recent NEH award winner in the category of Institutes for Higher Education Faculty, Dr. Maria Hamilton Abegunde (who we’ve met several times in the past), with a number of prose poems of varying lengths, to an overflow audience of some thirty or more listeners.

This completed the featured poets section. Then, after the break, there were about eight walk-on readers from those who remained, still at a healthy twenty-some strong, of which I was next-to-last with two horror poems to honor summer (thus closing as well a week of midish-nineties, at peak, sun-drenched late August weather): “Summer Cancellations,” originally published in THE PALACE CORBIE a few years back, and my “3rd Sunday Write” entry from last month, “Birdbath,” which you can read right here if desired by scrolling down to July 21.