After a rigorous (+ very helpful) revision dialogue with Jennifer Derilo, the very sharp, very smart + very detail-oriented Creative Nonfiction editor, I'm proud to announce that my lyrical essay "The Transfusion of Yukiyo Kanahashi" will be published in the upcoming issue of the Kartika Review. This lyrical essay is part personal narrative, part memory + neuroscience critique, + part metamemoir. It's a non-linear work about the last week of my sobo's life (my Japanese grandmother's), intertwined with political, cultural, nostalgic + speculative narrative strands. It's a beautiful + heartbreaking + language-driven + emotionally raw piece, + needs to be shared with the world I think. I honestly can't think of a more culturally important journal to publish an essay about my sobo's life than in the Kartika Review. I'll keep you posted.
Love Affairs of Silverware
I wanna live in san francisco. i wanna live in japan too, maybe date a fabulous urban 日本人 who wears platform sneakers, boas and sparkles on her face.
workshop is too long and i think we should be allowed to take naps in our seats, or go to a vacant classroom and write poems about our life on the chalkboard. we should slip meth to william's coffee so we can get out of class at 1:00pm.
i miss the west coast hardcore. it's mad beautiful there, the cafes are outside, the ocean breathes down your neck, and the sun is always close to you. and the honies there. . . joder.
there are certain days where i feel like everyday i'm not with someone i love, or making love to her, is somehow a wasted day.
also, i have mixed feelings about staying in the US next year. part of me wants to so i can write, fine tune my novel, begin my writing career, and another part of me wants to live abroad, kick it in an expat community, explore new worlds and new cities, and write as consolation.
sometimes i like it when i feel like i can cry, it makes me feel like i'm open, unzipped, exposed to the air, a storm waiting to happen, an unlocked chakra.
today is quiet but beautiful.
::
rejections:
prairie schooner
verbsap ( a nice rejection though, as always)
submissions to:
soma lit journal
the literary review
chelsea
the colorado review
peace and love to youz,
--j2b
workshop is too long and i think we should be allowed to take naps in our seats, or go to a vacant classroom and write poems about our life on the chalkboard. we should slip meth to william's coffee so we can get out of class at 1:00pm.
i miss the west coast hardcore. it's mad beautiful there, the cafes are outside, the ocean breathes down your neck, and the sun is always close to you. and the honies there. . . joder.
there are certain days where i feel like everyday i'm not with someone i love, or making love to her, is somehow a wasted day.
also, i have mixed feelings about staying in the US next year. part of me wants to so i can write, fine tune my novel, begin my writing career, and another part of me wants to live abroad, kick it in an expat community, explore new worlds and new cities, and write as consolation.
sometimes i like it when i feel like i can cry, it makes me feel like i'm open, unzipped, exposed to the air, a storm waiting to happen, an unlocked chakra.
today is quiet but beautiful.
::
rejections:
prairie schooner
verbsap ( a nice rejection though, as always)
submissions to:
soma lit journal
the literary review
chelsea
the colorado review
peace and love to youz,
--j2b