Incendiary Lit

I had originally intended on reviewing the winner of the Lena-Miles Wever Todd Poetry Series in 2009, Susan Parr’s Pacific Shooter, having entered and included a SAE for the winner (DO IT!) but after reading the majority of the book I was divided. Lying in bed watching the shadow of the ceiling fan behind infomercials the best I could come up with was that the poems seemed like if Campbell McGrath’s lexicon had read the complete works of Charles Simic just before becoming obsessed with Ted Kooser and writing a book of quirky descriptions. But that seemed so inadequate. There was much more to the book than I was understanding, so I waited, emailed some friendly poets, and then got impatient, so I open this to the internet forum, please learn me my ig’nant ways. I absolutely loved Susan Parr’s “Poem in the Shape of a Poem” (among others, like Earthirst, an ode to scancion-adicts if you will) however, poems like “Internmoon” and “Brandoid Roundteen” completely eluded me. So I felt I couldn’t write a review. Especially after reading Susan Mitchell’s accusation that the “Bourgeois reader will hate it” because I didn’t hate it, I just wanted to believe in every single page, and apparently haven’t read widely enough to fully understand this collection. Which, in its own way, can help those reading this. So here are the two poems. If anyone has insight into “Brandoid Roundteen” I would be so, so happy to hear it, because there has to be something behind the poem. Random quatrains generally don’t find their way into award winning collections.

Poem in the Shape of a Poem

Forgive my shorn appearance,
my torn ends, tufts of cut hair;
the trackmarks of my comb.
Forgive my staggered racks, flat art,
my standing in this floating room.
Forgive my monochrome.
Forgive my tailored look, my pleated parts,
my tendency to stop and skip.
And please forgive my hats.
They rarely fit.
–
(Not sure what in my past made me so guilty, but I like the absurdist apology poems. Like Hal Sirowitz’s confessional poems, or Billy Collins’ “Sonnet”, or perhaps because just wrote a Villainelle apologizing for its own repetition. I’m not sure, but this poem got me, and I would often flip through the book late at night in the fading light of Shamwow ads and stop at this poem and read it, yet again, and smile. How silly poems, really, are.
–

Brandoid Roundteen

Brandoid Roundteen is a very fine drink;
a very fine drink indeed.
One of them makes six of a man,
two of them makes thirteen.
–

Now, this poem even more than the even shorter and more obscure “Internmoon” - “Internmoon, / internmoon // It’s a ha’moon” which the only thing I could pull from was the lament of a ‘half-funded’ internship?, and being under the ten words poem rule, I’ve apparently subconsciously awarded it a zen-like pass. But “Brandoid Roundteen” got me. Is it a comment on alcoholic effect on machismo? Is it a parody or homage to some poem I have yet to discover? Is it a way to push the collection to the minimum pages required? Although I’m inclined to believe one of the former, the last possible dwells in my mind, as a poor writer with an in-the-works collection. I don’t feel like I’m a bourgeois reader. I don’t want to be a bourgie-mofo. Please, internets. Help me. You are my only hope.

Is the site really back up now?

HTML hates me. Or whatever language is translated into html or however it works. Whatever. Welcome back to Incendiary Lit.

I mean, yeah, I knew what Autism was before starting to read/listen to The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime. It is one of those genetic flubs that make me so sad, because without it, it seems so easy to let go of things and be happy. For the record, I want to explain that I have my own sets of problems/neuroses/tics and could not imagine dealing with a bunch more. Since I don’t have this particular genetic peculiarity, it has always been tough to figure out. Mercury Rising was daunting, but as a Bruce Willis movie you just accept that logic may fly the coop, but John McClane’s a badass so all will be well. Mark Haddon’s autistic character was widely praised, and rightly so. The problem is, aside from the groanings and uncontrollable fits the narrator doesn’t sound terribly unlike my own internal monolog, which I’ve learned to translate into poetry form. Here are things that chapters consist of: 1) lists 2) hyper-focusing on one thing to microscopic or distant narrative 3) trying to use logic to understand/explain human behavior 4) tangents (which is really a subcategory of #2).

I feel that, for me at least, my brain kind of works that way in the first place. That the learning of language in elementary school, television, whatever, has taught me to fill in the blanks between the core elements of experience: nouns, verbs, and the barest, most necessary of adjectives.  Then learning poetry is learning to strip away that filler again. To return to the images and emotions of the brain.

There isn’t a larger meaning to this post, just an observation.  Also, a link to somewhere to buy The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. It’s a really good book. Yes, I’m slow on the bus with this one. Sorry.

As English majors, we here at Incendiary are suckers for a good grammar gaffe or hilarious mistranslation. EngrishFunny.com has a ton of them. Here are a few we enjoyed…

Kay Ryan is kind of a black and white figure in poetry. You either love her wit and little geodes of poems, or you hate her for the silliness and almost childishness of her poems. Or something like that. To be honest, I think I was born into the first category, so I can’t exactly say what people don’t like about her for sure. I know that I’ve heard from professors and students alike that they don’t get the appeal. Thus begins this 20-day excursion into Kay Ryan’s work. The poem “Blandeur” originally appeared in The New Yorker (so perhaps jealousy is a factor in not liking Ryan’s work) and then her book Say Uncle.

Blandeur

If it please God,
let less happen.
Even out Earth’s
rondure, flatten
Eiger, blanden
the Grand Canyon.
Make valleys
slightly higher,
widen fissures
to arable land,
remand your
terrible glaciers
and silence
their calving,
halving or doubling
all geographical features
toward the mean.
Unlean against our hearts.
Withdraw your grandeur
from these parts.

—

What I love about this poem isn’t necessarily the witty title (as opposed to grandeur) or the witty little rhymes, or the mention of a greater entity which might be pleased by little ol’ us, but the extended metaphor of the yin and yang. Everyone complains about the bad things that happen, but without the negative a positive isn’t really possible, only a sense of sameness, of blandeur. This is probably Ryan’s most anthologized poems.

Emma Bolden is a poet, playwright, teacher and editor. She holds a BA from Sarah Lawrence and an MFA from University of North Carolina, Wilmington; her poems have appeared in MARGIE, Verse, and Briar Cliff Review among others (including winning the Georgetown Review’s 2007 fiction prize); her newest chapbook The Mariner’s Wife was published in 2008 by Finishing Line Press, and first chapbook How to Recognize a Lady appeared in the chapbook quartet Edge by Edge; and her her one-act, Drinks, was selected as the winner of the American Theatre Co-Op’s Winter 2004 Contest for Original One-Act Plays. She will be assuming poetry editorship of the Georgetown Review this fall. And, she updates the world on her life and writing and whatnot at A Century of Nerve.

Zebulon Huset: Do you have a favorite two-word color?
Emma Bolden: Pearl gray.

ZH: Do you have any tricks that you use when a particular word in a poem just doesn’t feel right?
EB: Sometimes, I just sit and stare at the word for a very long time.  Sometimes, I change it, and then sit and stare at the new word for a very long time.  This process tends to repeat itself ad infinitum, until I finally find a word that feels right.  When I can’t find a word that feels right, even after said process repeats itself ad infinitum, I do have a few tricks up my sleeve.  I am sadly dependent upon the online thesaurus.  I have a collection of odd books lying around, most of which are very old, and I’ll sometimes pick a word randomly from one of those books.  It’s a trick I picked up from OuLiPo, and often shakes the text up enough so that I can see where things need to go, or it gives me a new vision for the work.

ZH: If you were stranded on a desert island what three movies (or books or CDs) would you bring (with the island’s magical cd/dvd player in mind, I guess)?
EB: The three movies I’d bring are Spinal Tap, Dr. Strangelove (Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb), and The Graduate.  The three CDs I’d bring are Bob Dylan’s Blonde on Blonde, George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass, and Radiohead’s OK Computer.  The three books would be Emily Dickinson’s complete works, T.S. Eliot’s complete works, and Marilynne Robinson’s Housekeeping.

ZH: If an actress was to play you in a movie, who would you want it to be?
EB: Oh, Emma Thompson.  Definitely.

ZH: Do you have any tips for writers just beginning to submit their work for publication?
EB: Read the magazine!  I know it’s the most common piece of advice, but I think it’s the most important.  At the very least, read the work samples on the journal’s website.  It can tell you a lot about what they’re looking for.

ZH: If you could only ever read the books of one author again, who would it be?
EB: Hm.  This is an especially difficult question, so I think I’m going to have to cheat.  If I could only ever read the books of one poet again, it’d have to be Emily Dickinson — I’ve read her poems hundreds of times, but am always surprised by something new — or Anne Carson, who I think is one of the most brilliant minds at work today, if not the most brilliant.  If I could only ever read the books of one fiction writer again, it’d be Margaret Atwood.

ZH: Do you have any guilty pleasure books/movies?
EB: I have to admit that I absolutely love Jacqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls and Once Is Not Enough.  I also loved the Joan Crawford movie Straight Jacket.

ZH: What was the last book (or poem) that you’ve absolutely loved?
EB: Louise Gluck’s Averno – it’s a powerful, affecting, complicated, and gorgeously written collection.  I read it months ago and am still wrestling with it, which is when I know a book is really doing its job.  I also loved Beth Ann Fennelly’s Tender Hooks, which is powerful and unflinching and beautifully done.

ZH: What is the best title you’ve come across (actual work notwithstanding)?
EB: Sad Little Breathing Machine — and the actual work is even better than the title.

ZH: Writers are notoriously neurotic, do you have any particular writing-related tics, or have you seen any interesting tics in fellow writers?
EB: The most interesting tic I’ve ever heard about — though this might be a myth (I almost hope it is) — is of a writer who could only write while eating green apples.  That sounds like a stomach ache waiting to happen to me.  I write poetry long-hand, which many people think is crazy.  I always write with a particular kind of pen (Pilot Precise V5 Rolling Ball Pens, Extra Fine, to be exact) and in a particular kind of notebook (those old school composition books you can find for 90 cents at an office supply store).  I tend to write at night, and I have to be alone, in a quiet room.  I never actually realized how particular I am about writing until I answered this question …

ZH: As a Master of the Fine Arts, do you have any advice for writers planning on applying to MFA programs this coming winter?
EB: Steel yourself.  Remember that the most important part about an MFA program is developing your own voice and learning, for yourself, what it means to be a writer.  Remember that this means “for the rest of your life” — only a fraction of your life as a writer will be spent in an MFA program.  Therefore, I think the most important thing to learn as an MFA student is how to work independently — that is, learning and developing the patterns of life and of mind that will allow you to work as a writer after the MFA program.  As important as my classes and workshops were, I think that the most essential work I did as a graduate student happened outside of the classroom, as I studied and wrote and revised on my own.

ZH: You’ve successfully navigated the path from MFA to teaching, do you have any tips for current MFA students who are hoping to teach?
EB: I’d encourage them to remember that good teachers are immersed in their subject, in and out of the classroom — in order to teach well, it’s important that you’re immersed in the work you’re meant to teach.  I’d advise them to not be overwhelmed by the day-to-day problems that occur in the classroom.  There will be challenges, and those challenges will be significant, but I am grateful for each and every problem that’s popped up in the classroom, as it taught me more about what it means to be a teacher, and how to teach effectively.  Remember that your students are human beings, just like you, with their own interests and issues and challenges and concerns.  And don’t be afraid to be a human being in the classroom yourself — in writing classes, I’ve often found that the most helpful thing for a student is to share your own struggles with them.

Well, tonight Jason Castro left American Idol, and you know, it ain’t so bad. Personally, he was my favorite of this year… that David Cook better win now. But I’ve never really liked the people who win American Idol anyway. Except Kelly Clarkson, which makes me feel like they made a mistake and actually gave someone with some uniqueness to them. Jessica forces me to watch, I swear. But I’m also glad Blake didn’t win last year. Could you imagine him singing that god-awful, ridiculously cliched song? No, he needs to beatbox and mix his shit up, make it unique. But, his record was wayyyy more poppy than it should’ve been. Anyway, back to Jason Castro. He isn’t typical American Idol material, which means I’d be more likely buy his CD. Seems more like a folksy Ben Harper, and that’s way more up my alley than Ruben Studdard or ArchuD2.

We’re on Spring Break in San Diego, and no, that’s not a new reality show on VH1, though it could be. They’re about ready to catch up to Real World San Diego… but yeah, so we’ve been quite busy. One thing people should check out, though, is AgentQuery.com It’s a very useful site for those seeking representation. Kind of like a duotrope for agents. I’ll write more about that when we return to Long Beach.

Here’s a classic clip from Sesame Street, censored in an absolutely hilarious way. Bleepin’ amazing.

And school is back already for some. Hopefully Incendiary Lit will continue to be a resource that people can look to for original material as well as reviews, exercises and laughs. We’ll also be posting some sample lesson plans for beginning teachers (and Teaching Assistants) to help get in stride, as well as more interviews and essays that might be used as source material, as well as read for enjoyment. If anyone has ideas of things that they’re like to see here, please let us know and we’ll do our best. Enjoy the Superbowl, (coming soon!) and, of course, don’t forget to drive responsibly. Besides the whole dangerous thing, DUI’s are really expensive these days, and a $10,000 bill thrown on the top of the pile’s the last thing you need, right?

During the past year, over 2,000 entries for words to be banned for excessive use were submitted online to Michigan’s Lake Superior University. Among the so-called “banished” were words and phrases such as “post 9/11,” (we’re looking at you, Giuliani) and “organic.” Check out the whole list here on LSSU’s website.

Pick your favorite (of those listed) Christmas special. We may have a grudge match with the likes of A Christmas Story, The first Simpson’s Christmas special, Frosty and a few others… but only if enough people, well, give a reindeer poo. Haha. But instead of flinging reindeer scat at us, maybe just pick a special.

Yes, I’m going to give you three nail guns, only load one, then, when you’re answering my questions, there’s no way you can indicate which nail gun it is, if we hadn’t just decided that weeks ago and have been rehearsing as such… Yes, I’m a mentalist… no, dude, you’re just mental if you think we can’t see through a couple preplanned ‘illusions of the mind.’Anyway, this is a sweet illusion of the eye… slightly harder to trick, but as you see it can be done…

Most of these were familiar, but it’s still cool seeing the optical illusions again, it moves pretty fast though, so pay close attention. and remember… WHEE!!!

I was flipping through the 2005 Best American Poetry today and I stumbled upon a page marked with a lottery ticket from November 2006. Like a year after I’d bought the book, so apparently I’ve previously revisited the anthology. Although there’re poems that sacrifice substance entirely for wit, which are cute, (Best?) but there are quite a few really good poems. This one, Jessica Goodheart’s “Advice for a Stegosaurus” was funny, but also carried a cool message. Also it has something of a formula, which is like writing a poem in a formal structure, so let’s see the poem, and how to write your own “Advice” poem

Advice for a Stegosaurus

Never mind the asteroid,
the hot throat of the volcano,
a sun that daily drops into the void.

Comb the drying riverbed for drink.
Strut your bird-hipped body.
Practice a lizard grin. Don’t think.

Stretch out your tail. Walk as you must,
in a slow deliberate gait.
Don’t look back, Dinosaur. Dust is dust.

You’ll leave your bones, your fossil feet
and armored eye-lids.
Put your chin to the wind. Eat what you eat.

——–

Take either an animal (or perhaps person) and give it advice structured like the poem. As in:

“Never mind ____,
(another thing to not think about)
(another)

(Instruct to do something simple)
(and another thing.)
(One more short thing,) Don’t _____.

(another simple, everyday instruction)
(another instruction)
Don’t look (direction), _____. Dust is dust.

You’ll leave (insert a personal item or memento)
(another item)
Put your _____ to the wind. ______ what you ______

————–
Now, obviously you’ll be tweaking the form here and there, which is good, but use the form as a firestarter for the mammoth flames of your genius. Word. Oh, by the way, the poem originally appeared The Antioch Review, a fabulous magazine which is carrying on despite Antioch (OH) College closing. Then it was picked by the new New Yorker poetry editor for the 2005 Best American poetry (the red one). Enjoy.

That would be Mozilla’s Firefox Browser. A free download, or freeware or whatever it’s called. Here’s a few reasons why I love Firefox so much more than Internet Explorer.

Tabs, for one. So much more convenient than having ten different windows open.

It has a very effective pop-up blocker, and anti-virus protection. Virtually (if not actually) no spyware.

But this, is the best. Type in the browser address bar: “University Minnesota MFA” and bam! Faster than Emeril with cajun peppers you’re at the University of Minnesota’s Creative Writing MFA program’s website. Immediately. Want, say Dorianne Laux’s email address because you’re visiting University of Oregon’s campus and wanted to meet her while you’re touring the place. Type in Dorianne Laux Oregon and right there you have UOregon.edu’s information, office phone number and location, email etc. Looking for the phone number for Beyond Baroque? don’t even worry about any .org or .com or whatever, type in “Beyond Baroque” and the website comes up, phone number right in front of your eyes.

And Firefox is living in an online world. Click on an email link and it pulls up your gmail account instead of that silly, silly Outlook.

It really is flawed logic when you think about it. Which may be the true genius of Mims. In his own words “I could sell a mil sayin nothin on the track.” and he even demonstrated that ability with that very song. Bravo for showmanship.

Firestarter Challenge Week 1 Title: Like Struck Matches

(the categories of the exercises will change weekly)

1. Imagery: A broken Christmas tree bulb
2. Persona: A vending machine stocker.
3. Form- Basic: Limerick
4. Form- Complex: A series of three limericks describing the same person by three very different people. For instance, a ‘woman of the night’ as told by her mother, her priest, and her last customer.
5. Sound: \O\ as in “Sonny Bono knows no bones snow won’t coax into broken spokes.” Ouch.

Hello everyone, this blog has been a long time in the works, and it finally works. Incendiary Literature and Culture is online for your enjoyment. There will be daily writing exercises (with a monthly contest for cash and prizes), MFA program profiles, interactive polls, literary essays (that may be used as source material for any essays you may write *wink wink*), submission calendars for both literary magazine’s regular submission deadlines, as well as contests; interviews with poets, novelists, short fiction writers, screenwriters, editors, MFA directors; reviews of books, movies, cds, tv shows and perhaps even a mime interpretation or two, who knows. Anything that directly affects us as writers in the modern era. Incendiary Literature Press is conducting its first annual chapbook contest, and each entrant (with enclosed SASE) will get a good amount of feedback, as well as a copy of the winning chapbook, which we hope will encourage more students to submit their work, as some of the finest work we’ve read have been from students, not only in MFA programs, but also still just working on their BA’s, who are sorely lacking in confidence, even though their work shines. So tell a friend, tell a stranger, shout it from rooftops, and most of all, tell us what you think, and what you’d like to see, and we’ll do our best to accommodate as many requests as possible.

Hey everybody, this blog is currently under construction. Check back in a week or so and we should be ready to roll!