For Your Monday Morning Coffee

1. HEY WE ARE COMING TO BROOKLYN. Or, really, we’re already in Brooklyn and Vol.1 Brooklyn, our co-host, is in Brooklyn all the time so we’re just saying you should get your ass to Brooklyn too, or more specifically to WORD Bookstore at 126 Franklin Street for the upcoming Invasion on Wednesday, May 23rd. Readings by Mensah Demary, Sean Doyle, Jennifer Pashley, Robb Todd, M.G. Martin, Tess Patalano, and Roxane Gay. 7 pm. RSVP here. 2. Regular submissions are closed until August 31. If you submitted before May 1 your submission is still under consideration as normal. Tip Jar Submissions are still open. 3. Also, Special Issue submissions are still open, submit here to the Pulp Issue.

Friday Four

1. “Quiet the Remedies”, fiction from Robb Todd, is a recent obsession of mine. It’s published here at The Fiddleback but also included in his book, Steal Me For Your Stories.

2. “Evening,” poetry from Alex Dimitrov at Memorious.

3. This new series from the Los Angeles Review of Books, Portrait of a Press, features an interesting portrait of Wave Books.

4. Head Meld from Sarah Rose Etter at Dark Sky Magazine.

 

For Your Monday Morning Coffee

1. THE MAY ISSUE IS ALIVE.

2. Only a short amount of time until we invade Brooklyn again, this time with Vol. 1 Brooklyn, and we couldn’t be more excited. May 23rd, 7pm. WORD, 126 Franklin Street, Brooklyn. Featuring readings by Mensah Demary, Sean Doyle, Jennifer Pashley, Robb Todd, M.G. Martin, Tess Patalano, and Roxane Gay. RSVP here.

3. Regular submissions are closed until August 31. If you submitted before May 1 your submission is still under consideration as normal. Tip Jar Submissions are still open.

4. Also, Special Issue submissions are still open, submit here to the Pulp Issue.

 

A Forsley Feuilleton: Stanley Kubrick Wanted A Taste, A Second Taste, Of Terry Southern’s Lamb-Pit

I love fucking Terry Southern. . . that came out wrong.  I never fucked the writer, at least not proper fucked.  But I have been fucking him intellectually, off and on, for a few decades now.  By that I mean I’ve read his literary work – Flash and Filigree, Candy, The Magic Christian, and Blue Movie – on several occasions, going deeper each time.  But no matter how deep I go, Southern’s satiric send-ups, lyrical lines, crazy characters, and demented dialogue always leave me hard.  I never fully come. . . to a satisfying climax.  I’m always left with the feeling that I could go deeper – that I could explore more of the birth canal that is Terry Southern’s sardonic vision of America.

So, just the other day, after eating a few dozen oysters, I read Lee Hill’s biography, A Grand Guy, of that writer I love fucking so much – I mean that writer I fucking love so much – and, sure enough, it acted as the satisfying climax to the intellectual stimulation Southern’s writing induces. It’s the kind of stimulation that makes you hard for days, novel after novel, the kind that only a grand guy like Southern has the ability to induce.

Continue reading

For Your Monday Morning Coffee

1. Together with Vol. 1 Brooklyn, [PANK] Invades Brooklyn. May 23. 7pm. WORD, 126 Franklin Street. Featuring readings by Mensah Demary, Sean Doyle, Jennifer Pashley, Robb Todd, M.G. Martin, Tess Patalano, and Roxane Gay. RSVP on our Facebook Page.

2. Wife Beaters and Cut-Offs: Southern Summer Comfort Book Tour is doing a Kickstarter campaign. Support the words and travels of five wonderful women, Chloe Caldwell, Elizabeth Ellen, Mary Miller, Brandi Wells and Donora Hillard, as they read to audiences throughout five southern cities during the month of July.

3. Submissions are open for the Special Pulp Issue.

A Forsley Feuilleton: I Would Have Obeyed Those Gods, Became A Dunce, And Joined The Confederacy

I read John Kennedy Toole’s A Confederacy of Dunces last month.  But it was too late.  My life was damaged beyond repair.  If I had read it ten years ago as a high school student, I would have a career, a mortgage, and a retirement plan right now. I would have known that “With the breakdown of the Medieval system, the gods of Chaos, Lunacy, and Bad Taste gained ascendancy.” And I would have obeyed those gods, became a dunce, and joined the confederacy.

But I read it last month, not ten years ago.  Ten years ago my high school teacher assigned me Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 to educate me on the dangers of McCarthyism.  At first she assigned me The Crucible for the same purpose, but the school district stopped her because it was her own, censored version without “sick words from the mouths of demon-possessed people.”  So Fahrenheit 451 it was. . . and she said if every student brought a copy to class on Monday she would let us watch a few of her favorite reality television shows – “Hey! Whoa! Oo-wee!” says Burma Jones of A Confederacy of Dunces.

Just because Burma Jones wasn’t impressed with her offer, it doesn’t mean I wasn’t.  Reality television is great.  I have always loved coming home at night and watching assholes on the television make millions – especially after a long day of watching assholes at the café make my drinks wrong, assholes on the bus make old ladies stand, assholes stopped at green lights make-out, assholes in blue uniforms make mistakes, and assholes at the urinal next to mine make fun.  Even an old man who’s literary and literarily like Ray Bradbury would enjoy reality television.  I know I do. Continue reading

Spring Funds Drive

Dear Readers,

Do you love [PANK]? Do you love what we do, what we stand for? Do you love the writers we publish, their stories and poems that keep you up at night, keep you thinking and guessing, creep you out, make you laugh and cry, turn you on, make the world mean in startlingly new, complicated, and challenging ways? Do you love that we offer content in a variety of sexy packages across a variety of print and digital platforms, at a variety of price points for your ease and edification, and that the vast majority of the content at [PANK] is available for free?

If you answered yes to any of the above, please consider contributing to [PANK] by either buying something from our shop or by making a donation below. Help us grow. Help us evolve. Every dollar you donate, be it one or twenty, goes directly to support our mission of fostering greater access to emerging and experimental poetry and prose, publishing the brightest and most promising writers for literature’s most adventurous readers. Help [PANK] keep literature diverse, vibrant, and burning bright.

Thank you for your contribution to the cause of great writing.

–M. Bartley Seigel & Roxane Gay, editors [PANK]