tophotmovie

Music Heard in Hi-Fi

By Noel Alumit

The soundtrack of Maybe Someday was first heard in a small house on Vendome Avenue. It was eventually heard in homes on Council, Reno, Dillon, and Union. The music of this hit Broadway musical was heard in cars driving north on Rampart, turning right on Temple street, then stopping at a parking lot in Bahay Kubo, a popular hang out in Historic Filipinotown—Hi-Fi for short—in Los Angeles, Ca. At Bahay Kubo, the music of Maybe Someday was heard on the loudspeakers, a boot-legged video of the musical played on a large TV in the restaurant.

Filipino men and women sang along, including the old manongs and …

THRESHOLD

EDITORIAL
Threshold by Nita Noveno & Sara Lippmann
INTERVIEWS
Chris Tarry by Sara Lippmann
Laurel Fantauzzo by Nita Noveno
FICTION
Music Heard in Hi-Fi by Noel Alumit
In the Beginning by Victoria Brown
A Handbook for Single Mothers by Jen Knox
Gray Area by Krista Madsen
The Forestiera by Cynthia Blake Thompson
NON-FICTION
Back Home by Ben Tanzer
In the Making by Kari Nguyen
An Unlikely Pilgrimage by Jennifer McGaha
POETRY
that voice by …

“It’s a cold inhospitable place, but you should go”: in conversation with Chris Tarry

At the Sunday Salon, we’ve had the immense pleasure of hosting Chris Tarry twice – as musical guest and as featured author. His debut collection, How to Carry Bigfoot Home, came out this March from Red Hen Press with glowing blurbs from Jim Shepard, Pamela Erens, Roy Kesey, and Matt Bell. The Masters Review’s Kim Winterheimer writes, “Each of his stories is laced with humor and heart.” And Stefan Merrill Block says, “What would happen if some mad scientist were able to fuse the otherworldly exuberance of H.P. Lovecraft with the nuanced pathos of John Cheever? The result would be a dazzling, explosive, and inexhaustible new kind of illumination: a …

Non-Belonging and Eternal Adaptation: An Interview with Laurel Fantauzzo

Her artist statement reveals this: “much of her work finds her studying appetites, identity, the signals for real love, and the search for home.” Born in Southern California to a Filipina mother and an Italian-American father, Laurel Fantauzzo has lived in Brooklyn, Manila, and Iowa over the past few years. Currently, she calls Quezon City, Philippines home and teaches at Ateneo de Manila University. She is well-acquainted with starting over and telling stories from the margins. Largely a nonfiction writer and an essayist, Laurel also writes young adult fiction. Poet Hossannah Asuncion describes Laurel’s writing as “lyrical and technically elegant—what makes it glorious is the kindness that is imbued within …

An Unlikely Pilgrimage

By Jennifer McGaha

Admittedly, the Midwest is an unlikely place for a pilgrimage. In the vast and wide-open landscape, one doesn’t have the sense so much of going inward, but rather of being exposed, flayed open like a trout. Had I had more money or more time to contemplate my path, I might have gone to Lumbini or hiked the El Camino. As it were, it had been less than a week since I had applied for a semester-long teaching position at a rural Illinois university. I had interviewed via Skype, received an offer, grabbed a few essential items—my mountain bike, my dog, my computer—and headed west. I …

THRESHOLD

Plank of wood, metal, stone beneath the door. A boundary. An opening. The point at which something begins or changes. That “there, we’ve arrived; now, let’s cross over” moment. Consider the threshold of pain, of love, of language. What happens when you approach, remain, and/or take a step to the other side?

This issue’s collection of prose and poetry starts in one place—a mindset, an emotion, a room, a life—and moves toward another. We’re excited to present fourteen contrasting, beautiful voices that respond to the question: “What’s next?”

-Nita Noveno and Sara Lippmann, the Editors

SHAKEN


EDITORIAL
SHAKEN by Nita Noveno & Sara Lippmann
FICTION
Come Loose and Fly Away by Kathy Fish

A Car Ride of Second Chances by Len Kuntz

The Joseph of Arimathea Center for Secret Believers by Nana Ekua Brew-Hammond

He-Man and a Girl Named Larry by Rae Bryant

NON-FICTION
Family Dinner the Week of the Connecticut Shooting on the Sunday Jake Adam York Died by Michael Copperman

And Am I Born to Die? by Brian Gersten

The Toot by Dean Kostos

POETRY
Pünktlichkeit by Erika Dreifus

All Are Equal In the Fall by Stash Hempeck

Stroking the Pigeon by Patricia Spears Jones

INTERVIEW…

SPILLAGE

Spill-xlarge-cover

EDITORIAL
Spillage by Nita Noveno & Barbara Sueko McGuire
FICTION
Be Careful by William Cass

Empty Pockets by Roof Alexander

NON-FICTION
Wingin’ It by Jessica Machado

Distrust the Inner Voice by Alisa Slaughter

Felicia by Ilana Garon

POETRY
Life Taxidermy by Brie Huling

A Psalm of What Happens When I Submit to Love by Bernadette McComish

Fado de Coimbra (serenade) by Mike Stutzman

Consider by Brie Huling

Heart Decay by Diane Schenker

INTERVIEWS
Ed Pavlic by Nita Noveno

Nancy Martini Barbara Sueko McGuire

SHAKEN

The original idea for this issue of SalonZine came soon after the 2011 earthquake in Japan, a magnitude 9, and the fourth largest earthquake in the world since 1900. This past year, the destruction wrought by Hurricane Sandy, the Connecticut school shootings, and other seemingly endless gun-related tragedies have shaken us to the core. In our unsettling world lives change in an instant, only to become irrevocably defined by that which cleaves. How does one come out of such terrible loss? How do we deal with the worst? The unexpected? The inevitable?

The writers and poets in this issue respond to these questions. Their prose and poetry address things, people, and …

And Am I Born To Die?

By Brian Gersten

Between I-295 and the Penobscot Bay, past the Hussey’s General Store sign that reads “Guns – Wedding Gowns – Cold Beer”, down narrow potholed dirt roads lacking signposts or street lamps, over a steel bog bridge, and among fiery oaks and pines, rests Karen Keller’s square farmhouse.  The house teeters on a rocky foundation.  It has no running water or electricity.  The grey wooden shingles are weathered from years of blizzards and nor’easters.  Gusts of wind pass through the closed rectangular windows just as easily as the sunlight, and only the bedroom is insulated.  “There is a plan for this chaos,” Karen says of her home, “it …

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