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Special Announcement: Spring 2012 Issue
ROSE & THORN JOURNAL NEWSLETTER MAY 2012
FROM THE PUBLISHERS' PEN
As always, many thanks to our contributors and staff for their labors of love. Without you, Rose & Thorn would not exist.
We hope this season you are enjoying literary, artistic, poetic, and other creative endeavors, and are finding time to soak up the things you love most . . .including a perusal of our newest issue.
Rose & Thorn Journal is looking to add a staff member skilled in the art of Social Media. If you have a few hours a week available to help us maintain and beef up our “presence,” please contact us at editor@roseandthornjournal.com with the subject: Social Media. And feedback (positive, negative, or neutral) is always appreciated.
Our wonderful new art gallery opening has been a grand success. Take a stroll through and admire the work of the artists’ hands and visions: RTArtGallery.
Beautiful springtime to YOU!
—Angie Ledbetter and Kathryn Magendie
SUBMIT . . . SUBMIT . . .SUBMIT
Spring break is over and Rose & Thorn Journal is back, refreshed and ready to receive your submissions for our fall 2012 issue. Our submittal period opens June 1 and ends August 31. Please take a moment and visit our website to check for any updates to our PROSE and POETRY guidelines.
Submittal Period Issue Publication Date
December 1 – February 28 Spring May 15
June 1 – August 31 Fall November 15
PUBLISHED IN ROSE & THORN JOURNAL
PROSE
Walt Giersbach
Test of English as a Foreign Language
February Grace
Excess Baggage
Sally Houtman
The Temperature of Porridge
M. D. Joyce
Mr. Quigley's Untimely End by Punctuation
Irena Pasvinter
A Fancy Hat
Byron Reese
Conventional Wisdom Isn't
Anneka Shannon
Guinevere
Kelly Garriott Waite
Memory, Misplaced
Fehmida Zakeer
Accident
POETRY
Kevin Heaton
Gentle Men
Beyond the Throes of Jealous Sires
Just Beyond My Town
Ruth Hill
Cast in Bronze
Eddie Haggerty
Mark William Jackson
I Want to Build a Café
Anne Marie Jones
Day of the White Room
John Mahoney
an incident involving beach glass, in winter, 2012
Bryan Murphy
First Snowfall of Winter
Kenneth Pobo
Dindi in the Haunted House
Dindi Starring in Her Favorite Film
Childless Dindi
Jordan L. Puckett
Shells
John S. Rogers
Sonnet for Sisyphus
Danny Earl Simmons
Sestina: Nay Nay
Stephanie Smith
Friday Funeral
Statue
Alex Stolis
Schoolhouse Rock: The Weather Show
Schoolhouse Rock: The Preamble
Schoolhouse Rock: A Noun is a Person, Place, or Thing
THIS ISSUE'S ARTIST
MARBLES ON MARBLE by Steve Mills
29.5 x 48: Oil on aluminum
"I see the ‘extraordinarily-ordinary’ through a magnifying glass."—Steve Mills
Photorealism is a relatively new art movement begun in the '70s by only a handful of artists able to create canvases that rival the photographed subject for 'the most realistic' version. Steve Mills is one of the few remaining photorealists true to the movement's definition and has sold over 500 paintings in the first 20 years of his career, beginning with his premier gallery showing the year of his college graduation (magna cum laude). Galleries fortunate enough to house his work face a sell-out within minutes of their opening—a stark contrast to the 500 hours one of Mill's photorealistic oils takes to complete.
Influenced early in his career by Andrew Wyeth and Richard Estes, Mills's subject matter is similar to that of Glennray Tutor's, though with crisper focus and more natural light and depth. Those viewing his work will question the reliability of their own eyes, and if possible, resort to the sense of touch to distinguish the painting's surface for the tell-tale texture of paint on canvas rather than a mirror reflecting the subject's hidden image. Magical trickery or unsurpassed artistic skill? Virtually impossible to surmise. Mills’s oils will undoubtedly be exhibited at the New York MOMA, The Getty, and the Louvre alongside other masterpieces beyond fingertips' reach, but not eyes' disbelief. To view extraordinary canvases of ordinary objects, visit Mills’s website, The Granary Gallery, and Gallary Henoch.
ALAINE DiBENEDETTO BENARD
Art Director, Rose & Thorn
If you, or someone you know, would like your artwork featured as one of our covers or to appear in our Art Gallery, please contact Alaine at alaine.benard@roseandthornjournal.com.
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Back Story: From an Old Man's Valise by Karen S. Elliott
In 1869, James Day left his family in Ebbw Vale, Monmouthshire, South Valleys, Wales. He was twenty-years-old and alone when he boarded a ship bound for America. James settled in the Panther Valley, Lansford, Carbon County, in eastern Pennsylvania.
James worked in the mines for more than forty years, a feat practically unheard of because of occupational hazards: death, dismemberment, and black-lung. Explosions and cave-ins occurred every week. James was lucky.
James married Ann Gallagher in 1872. Elizabeth “Liza” Day was one of the children of that union. She was my grandmother; she is the one chop-chopping in my story. Liza married Richard Holmes—my mother was a child of that union.
Though I have no evidence that James Day handled a gun or killed anyone, there was a murder of a mine boss in Lansford in the late 1800s. This murder was never solved.
Several years ago, I traveled to Pennsylvania and spent two weeks in Lansford and the surrounding towns. For hours every day, I hunched over micro-fiche and old newspapers. I studied tomes in libraries and scoured old documents in the county archives. I talked with local historians and chamber representatives and librarians. I chatted with old geezers in the local diner and met with the pastor of the Baptist Church. I wanted to know more about the origins of my mother’s family and the history of the region.
I was also pulled to Lansford to scatter my mother’s ashes, as well as those of my Aunt Agnes, at Hauto Lake where they used to swim as young girls.
Though I am somewhat claustrophobic, I forced myself to spend a couple of hours inside the No. 9 mine, where James had labored, with a tour guide, my brother Phil, and sister-in-law Kerry.
As I snapped one picture, I looked at the small display window on the back of the camera and noticed a vaporous distortion in the photo. When I downloaded the photos to my laptop that evening, I realized that in this vapor was a face. I like to think that it was great-grandfather come to say, “Hello, Karen, pleased to finally meet you.”
Many short stories have come to me as a result of the tales shared by my mother and her siblings of their life in Lansford. My personal expedition has inspired me, as well. I am inspired by the land of mines and coal, by roads that rattled with trolleys and the Black Maria, by the church where James worshipped and the graveyard where he is buried. Strolling up and down the streets my great-grandfather walked, and staring at the field where he played football on Sunday afternoons, I am inspired.
Over the last eight years, I have attended Welsh society gatherings, both local and national. I studied Welsh hymns and sang (poorly) in a couple Welsh choirs. I study the Welsh language and Welsh poets and writers. I have studied Welsh maps and Welsh photographers and thumbed through Welsh cookbooks. For years I subscribed to Ninnau, The North American Welsh Newspaper, and I have connected with Welsh writers Peter Williams and Rhianwen Roberts. Coincidentally, Peter taught my mother Welsh while she was a member of the Welsh Society of Delaware.
“From an Old Man’s Valise” is a result of my research and imagination.
Karen S. Elliott was raised by a Welsh/Irish mother who quoted Welsh poets and told her constantly, "Look it up." Karen is a writer, editor and proofreader, blogger, and grandmother. You can find her at karenselliot and at her blog, TheWordShark, as well as Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and Google+. Contact her at karenselliott@midco.net. And read "From an Old Man's Valise" in the winter 2012 issue of Rose & Thorn Journal.
Art Gallery: Jason Craighead & Luke Haynes
We are pleased to introduce Jason Craighead and Luke Haynes to our Art Gallery. See how real men make stellar art from quilts and butterfly wings—you won't be disappointed. The gallery artists would love to hear your feedback, and so would we!
Artful Blessings,
Alaine DiBenedetto Benard
Art Director, Rose & Thorn
Contact me at alaine.benard@roseanthornjournal.com if you have a master level artist you would like to see featured in our Gallery.
Back Story: In the Voice of a Harley Motorcycle by Benjamin Isaac
I’m 100% sure the bird was a crow, I never mistake that harsh pitch of call or “CAAAAAH” like an amateur playing a violin, for a cardinal or canary. Those bright birds always sing me back to sleep in the early morning, but a crow uses his or her voice to push me away from my pillow. I’m uncertain the motorcycle was a Harley Davidson. I didn’t look out the window when the biker rumbled down Nutwood St. shortly after the crow. I didn’t see the actual bike, although I doubt I could distinguish a Harley from a Suzuki or a Yamaha without some sort of intimate close inspection: all those bikes have their names plated somewhere on the body. How peculiar though? In my pajamas, I keep hearing these two unrelated images chasing each other in my head and think that’s a poem.
I like simple inspiration in poems but not simple poems. I’m working on a poetry manuscript titled, “Muse for Hire,” and yes, I’m aware that’s the title of a Charles Baudelaire poem about a prostitute, but one of my favorite quotes from Charles Baudelaire goes something like “What is art? Prostitution.” (Really take the time to meditate on that quote.) Though, I imagine the peculiarity of seeing a sign “Muse for Hire” in a newspaper ad paid for by a desperate poet or in the window of a shoe store. My goal for the manuscript is somewhere between 52-75 poems, so I’m always searching for that simple inspiration. It’s as easy to find as hearing a motorcycle chasing the call of a crow. Once that feeling of peculiarity strikes inside of me, I immediately try drawing connections between the images until a poem is free. At 24 years old, I see everyday life as a giant unconstructed puzzle, and the purpose of a writer to create something cohesive, something beautiful.
Benjamin Isaac recently graduated Western Kentucky University with a Bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing and Philosophy, so in this economy he’s currently delivering sandwiches for Jimmy Johns and writing every day. He contributed a year’s worth of dark horoscopes to a local online magazine, SKYe mag. Read
"In the Voice of a Harley Motorcycle" and other poems by Benjamin in the winter 2012 issue of Rose & Thorn Journal.
Art Gallery: Edin Chavez & Liz Hamman
Please enjoy the art of Edin Chavez and Liz Hamman, our featured artist at the Gallery this week. See how one captures personal philosophies with a camera, and the other turns an entire book into a single piece of wearable art.
Contact me at alaine.benard@roseanthornjournal.com if you have a master level artist you would like to see featured in our Gallery.
Thank you,
Alaine DiBenedetto Benard
Art Director, Rose & Thorn
Interview with A. J. Ashworth by Adnan Mahmutovic
AM: I’m glad to be talking with the talented Andrea Ashworth about her Scott Prize winning collection Somewhere Else or Even Here. Andrea, tell us briefly about the collection, how do you see it, and what does it mean to you?
AA: Thanks, Adnan. The collection is made up of 14 stories, most of which were written during my Master’s degree in Writing at Sheffield Hallam University. The stories are quite diverse, but there are certain themes which run throughout a lot of them, for instance loss and hope, as well as more obvious themes such as astronomy. They’re quite dark, but there’s light in there too – the yin and yang of life. I suppose I’m happy with how the collection has turned out although I’m not sure creative people are ever fully satisfied with what they’ve produced! We’re always striving after some kind of perfect, unattainable creation. That’s what keeps us writing.
AM: I agree. Your stories have a strong individual tone or style. How close are they in terms of the writing process? Do you usually finish one and then start the next, or does the writing of one overlap with the writing of another? If so, how do you think it affects the finished pieces?
AA: They were all written over about three years so were produced quite close together. The writing of some of them may have overlapped – it’s hard to remember. Sometimes I’ve had an idea for a story and have written a few sentences but it didn’t feel the right time to write it, so I might have left it for a while and returned to it later. I have lots of first sentences and paragraphs on my computer – many of which will never be looked at again – but I think it’s important to at least have them written somewhere just in case. As for the effect on the finished pieces, I’m sure that similar interests and concerns will emerge especially if they’ve been written over a fairly short space of time. I was just starting to get more interested in astronomy when I began writing the stories in the collection, and I can definitely see that shining through a lot of the pieces.
AM: I wonder about the theme of loss, which is connected to words and gestures and other things. Loss is also related to happiness in several stories. Can you tell us something about the ways you deal with these themes?
AA: When I was writing the stories, I wasn’t really aware of how much loss was in them. I only realized it once people started reading them and telling me what they thought of them. But themes often emerge naturally without the writer necessarily being aware of them, so loss – and the potential of finding some kind of happiness after loss – is obviously a concern of mine. It’s hard to explain how I’ve dealt with themes like that because it’s not something I’m really conscious of. I’m a very intuitive writer and I just follow what feels right. I don’t feel I can be too analytical about how I write. I just follow my nose.
AM: I work in the same way, and am always fascinated by the readers’ impressions. I love the fact that we, as writers, are not in full control of what we do, despite the aspirations to perfection. I loved the way the loss of someone in “Overnight Miracles” was both total and gradual. By total, I mean the man is dead. But then the feelings remain, and he is being retrieved, if that is the right word, from the other side. Then, slowly, he is lost again. So this is the gradual loss after the abrupt one. Can you say something about this?
AA: I suppose when you lose someone part of you knows that they’ve gone, but there’s another part, probably a larger part, that doesn’t quite believe it. It’s almost like the brain hasn’t fully made the connections it needs to in order to accept the death, so it doesn’t feel real. I think that’s what I tried to capture in that story – that initial refusal to accept the death of someone and how far you might go to try and keep that person alive, in whatever way possible. I think the feeling of gradual loss that you describe is something which happens over time, after the initial shock – when the brain begins to firm up those mental pathways and you begin to realize the person you loved has really gone, forever.
AM: Something that I particularly liked about your stories is the way they suggest at or hint at much bigger worlds than those depicted in the stories. What I mean is, like in Dega’s painting of the ballet dancers, we have a precise picture of events and emotions and at the same time, we know that is not all. Your characters are not confined to what is on the pages, but we get the sense that there is a much larger world, which we can only imagine, in relation to which they are formed. You evoke all that in the reader without telling too much. How conscious are you of something like this? Or is it more the way your writing functions in general? Or something completely different?
AA: Well, if I’ve managed to do that then I’m very happy indeed! I was going to say that when you write short stories you tend to boil down a life or situation until you’re left only with an essence – and that the essence then contains aspects of that larger life or world. But then that implies that you start with the big and reduce it to the small. That’s not really what happens…not for me anyway. I start small and stay small. I don’t really think about the larger life and take a chunk of that; I just automatically see the fragment and explore that. For me, it’s like the idea of the microcosm and the macrocosm. The microcosm or little world will always contain enough detail to hint at that bigger world. A grain of sand contains aspects of the shell or rock from which it came, as well as the beach and ocean (to paraphrase Steven Millhauser).
AM: Start small and stay small, I like that a lot. I guess when you’re not trying to squeeze in the word you somehow actually do it, or expose it, or hint at it.
Tell us about the characters of dogs. I deliberately say character, rather than say the figure of the dog, which may be a more appropriate term. I feel that there are many things you use (dog, flag, coconut), usually one in each story, which have a certain catalyst-function. Now, that is how a scholar in me would approach it at first, but I cannot do it because these elements are much more than mere functions. I see these things as character-like. Can you tell us how do you think about this?
AA: That is a difficult one. I suppose they’re not just objects that serve as a stepping stones to get the reader across the path of the story; they have a more weighty, symbolic purpose than that. In that way they’re probably more like characters as they have more qualities than purely functional ones. And yes, in some instances they are catalysts – but probably emotional catalysts rather than catalysts with regard to plot. That’s a really interesting question. Probably the kind of question that will keep me awake tonight as I try and think it over!
AM: In a few stories, I felt that words and language gave me a sense of invocation of something, you know, like magic, like enchanted phrases.
AA: That’s a fascinating observation and even though I’ve never thought about it, I can see what you mean. I love words that echo, repeated phrases, or similar-sounding words placed close together. Repeated phrases can have magical, spell-like qualities; they’re incantatory, but rather than summoning strange entities or events, I suppose I’m trying to summon a mood from the reader. So, at the start of the story “Bone Fire,”which is about a troubled teenager who builds a bonfire in the basement of his school, I use the words ‘Bonfire. Bone and fire. Bone fire" alongside each other - not for any reason other than that I liked the rhythm created. And it set the right tone for the rest of the story.
AM: I was intrigued by the story “Tattoo” which begins with a comment on the death of the universe, almost as if it something imminent even though it will take billions of years. Then we have the woman with a tattoo that is connected to her relationship. Tell us about death-universe-love, all of which you juggle with in this story.
AA: I love astronomy, so I love to use ideas and metaphors related to it if I can. “Tattoo” is the story of a woman who meets someone during a meteor shower and goes on to have a relationship with this person. Rather than just write a straight "break up" story though, I wanted to bring in bigger ideas from astronomy. So, as the story is about the death of love, I wanted to also place that alongside ideas about the death of the universe – the story then creates a link between the macrocosm of the universe and the microcosm of the woman’s life. What I also wanted to explore is that, even when you’re in what you think is the darkest place in your life, there is always hope – so, even if something dies (love or a star or even a universe) there is the hope of rebirth (new love or a new star created from the elements of the dead one).
AM: Thank you for talking with me about your book.
AA: Thanks, Adnan. I really enjoyed it.
Somewhere Else or Even Here can be ordered from Salt Publishing or Amazon.
Art Gallery: Simon Gudgeon & Randal Wilcox
Saliva/DNA self-portraits, a famous jazz saxophonist, and sculptures in the private collection of His Royal Highness The Duke of Edinburgh. Discover the diverse talents of our latest Gallery artists, Simon Gudgeon and Randal Wilcox, then decide which is more intriguing, their art or their stories. We'd love to hear your thoughts!
Alaine DiBenedetto Benard
Art Director, Rose & Thorn
If you, or anyone you know, would like to showcase work in our gallery, please contact Alaine at alaine.benard@roseandthornjournal.com.
Back Story: The Bride by Patricia Abbott
“The Bride” evolved from a flash fiction challenge I posted on my blog several years ago. I occasionally post flash fiction challenges, and this was an early one that about a dozen people responded to. The prompt, based on an actual anthology of stories in the eighties, was that a wedding cake was sitting in the middle of the road. Just that. People could do what they wished with that idea or image. And some fine stories were written. A later challenge resulted in an ebook with more than 40 stories (Discount Noir), but this one drew a smaller number.
“The Bride” was my original story for the challenge, but I wasn't sure of myself as a fantasy writer at that point (not that I am now) so I instead wrote what is more typical for me a noirish story. I liked the new story, but this first one haunted me. It seemed like the right story for the image of a cake in the road.
As a bus rider, I often thought I saw things from the bus window that few people saw. The height and quiet gave me a perspective that often revealed interesting things. And those incidents or fantasies often spurred stories for me. I liked the idea that the woman attempts to share her vision, but she lives in a world of her own. I wanted to enlarge her world, even if it was in an otherwordly way. The challenge was in keeping the story under 1000 words and yet still breathing life into it. I hope I succeeded.
Patti Abbott’s new collection of stories, Monkey Justice, is an ebook from Snubnose Press. She is co-editor of Discount Noir. Nearly one hundred of her stories have appeared in print or online. You can find her at pattinase. Read “The Bride” in the winter 2012 issue of Rose & Thorn Journal.
Art Gallery: Milton Bernal Castro & Daniel Hauben
It's Art Wednesday at Rose & Thorn! Please take a moment and stop by our gallery to view the new offerings this week from world renowned artists Daniel Hauben and Milton Bernal Castro. Hauben hails from New York and works in glass, bronze, oil, and other mediums, while Bernal Castro produces astoundingly realistic portraits by manipulating tobacco. Find out why he is known as the "painter of snuff."
Also, if you, or anyone you know, would like to showcase work in our gallery, please contact Alaine at alaine.benard@gmail.com.
Back Story: Remedy Radio by Linda C. Peer
Linda entertains several Kashmiris in the Himalayas above Gulmarg, India, by doing something perfectly ordinary in her subculture: putting skins on skis.
1) While driving to Alta Ski area in Utah, Linda (the writer) and John (the husband) were listening to the National Public Radio program, Car Talk. Hoping the car Guys could diagnose their vehicles' malfunctions, callers imitated the sounds their cars and trucks made: wheerrrrr, wheerrrr, or brahahoom, brahahoom or greee, greeeup. Linda said to John, “How about a radio program for human medical problems where people demonstrated the sounds their illnesses and complaints make? What if a person has pernicious hiccups or her stomach rumbles? What would appendix trouble sound like? Could you distinguish it from a gall bladder attack?
2) Yeah, I know, you can imagine the law suits a call-in program like that would generate. So, what would have to happen for such a program to exist? Ah, the deregulation of medicine! And isn't deregulation enjoying a fad, and how far might it go, and isn't it interesting to think about deregulation in both a personal and a social sense. In a personal sense, in the realm of love and loyalty, regulation and deregulation are two of the horns of our (human) dilemma, aren't they? Isn't it odd that people who believe in deregulated financial/business behavior often believe that personal behavior should be highly regulated, and vise-verse?
3) A writer pal of mine says that we should write more about people's work lives, since most people spend most of their time engaged in work or work related activities, like commuting. This provoking observation makes me want to set stories in work environments.
4) And then there are love, trust, and betrayal, and the terrible temptation to vengeance, and regret.
These are the steam-lets of thought and feeling, some goofy and some serious, that fed “Remedy Radio.” The idea of deregulated medicine and its repercussions has produced two other tales, which I hope are also goofy and serious.
Best wishes to you all,
Linda
Due to the need to make a living and a serious addiction to back country skiing, this writer lives in a state of vagabondage between NYC, SLC, Pine Hill NY, and Torrey, UT. She has published fiction in venues such as Bartleby-Snopes, Writers’ Bloc, Used Gravitrons and Foundling Review, and may be found at lindapeer.com. Read "Remedy Radio" in the winter 2012 issue of Rose & Thorn Journal.
