photo by the author
I am standing in Niland, California, with Katie, next to a photographer we just met, and the air is bright and hot. We are photographing a decaying 99 cent store. There are two other food stores in this plaza and a deli and then nothing, just brown land, stretching and curving with the Earth. We are here to explore, to see ghost towns. ( Read more )
Stuff is going on in September. Book stuff. Make-you-feel-smart stuff. But you’ll need to build up your literary constitution because September is not for the faint of heart, mind, eyes and/or ears. It’s going to take a level 20 lit nerd to hit up all these events, but I believe in you. You can do it. You will do it. You will do it because you love baseball, and America, and literature.
Double Header #1 – Speakeasy + There Will Be Words
The stars have aligned this month and TWBW has (temporarily) moved from the second Tuesday to the third Wednesday, which places it the day after Speakeasy.
This month’s Speakeasy is the Blue Collar edition. While technically anything goes at Speakeasy, I’m pretty sure it is verboten to recite stand up from the Blue Collar Comedy Tour verbatim, or even paraphrased. But I digress. Blue Collar means stories about work, be it your shitty job manning the fryer at Arby’s, or your lucrative position giving handjobs behind Arby’s, come share at Orlando’s best open mic. Tuesday Sept. 20, 9pm at Will’s Pub. Hosted by Mr. Tod Caviness.
There Will Be Words will feature Vanessa Blakeslee, Brendan Earl, Arnie Ellis and Sam Lamura. Prepare yourself for tales of struggling marriages, sex offenders, understanding women, and hallucinogenic dystopia. This month it will on Wednesday Sept. 21. Show starts at 7pm. It is socially acceptable to show up around 6pm. As always, it is at Urban ReThink. Hosted by Mr. J. Bradley.
Double Header #2 – Ed Bloor + Greg Sherl Book Launches
September 17th marks the launch of our good friend Edward Bloor‘s new Young Adult novel, The Plague Year. The novel examines how meth swept through a small Pennsylvania town and essentially turned everyone into zombies. Join Ed and friends for an evening of pestilence and death. 6 to 7pm at the Winter Garden Barnes and Noble, 3251 Daniels Rd.
Later on the evening of the 17th, make the transition from YA to MA and see Gregory Sherl read from his new book, Heavy Petting. He’ll be accompanied by J. Bradley, Robert Walker and Anna Claire Hodge. 9pm at Stardust Video and Coffee.
Double Header #3 – Michael Cuglietta + Peter Selgin read at Time for Prose
September 18, 6pm at Urban ReThink, these two authors will read, and you will listen if you know what’s good for you. Michael Cuglietta’s most recent story, “Vertigo,” was published in The Gettysburg Review. Peter Selgin is the Distinguished Visiting Writer at Rollins College. He is the author of Drowning Lessons, winner of the 2007 Flannery O’Connor Award for Fiction, the novel Life Goes to the Movies, two books on the craft of fiction writing, and two books for children. His memoir in essays, Confessions of a Left-Handed Man, is forthcoming from the University of Iowa Press.
Double Header #4 – Mark Pursell + Vanessa Blakeslee wrap up 15 Views of Orlando
I hope you’ve been following BP’s series of loosely linked stories set in the untapped literary goldmine that is Orlando. If not, you can start with the intro to the project, or jump right into the first story. It has been a truly delightful experiment and all 15 contributing writers have helped take this project above and beyond excellence. The last two installments will be posted on the BP blog in the next couple weeks: Mark Pursell’s story will be posted on Thursday 9/8, and Vanessa Blakeslee’s closer will be posted on Thursday 9/15.
The lesson of September is, if you think Orlando is lacking in literary goodness, get outta town.
Dear readers. Orlando readers in particular. Or those of you who will be in the Orlando area on Sunday May 29th.
Burrow Press is taking part in a world-touring event called Literary Death Match. I know, it sounds so cool in name that you probably need no further explanation. Allow me to explain, nonetheless.
Literary Death Match (LDM) is like a sailor in that it is rowdy and has traveled the world. Also, it looks good in navy blue. LDM is like a matchmaker in that, wherever it goes, it looks to marry fiction and fun… Here’s a catchy image:
…and maybe you should just watch this: Literary Death Match in two minutes.
And definitely you should come to the event.
There will be 3 quirky judges offering delightfully useless commentary:
Vanessa Blakeslee – local writer and poet extraordinaire
Phil Frazier – executive producer of Madden NFL 2012
Giti Khalsa – former drummer of Seven Mary Three
And four writers who, judging by the judges, need to brush up on not just writing, but video games and drumming.
J. Bradley – author of Dodging Traffic and The Serial Rapist is Sitting Behind You; repping Ampersand Books
Ashley Inguanta – recent creative writing MFA from UCF; repping same.
Ryan Rivas – write, editor and repper of Burrow Press (full disclosure, that’s me)
Gregory Sherl – author of I Have Touched You; repping Dark Sky Books
They will be giving it their all. So please come out and support Orlando’s literary community. And spread the word! Here’s a flier:
by Cris Phillips-Georg
I am no saint, Orlando. I try my best to be of good use around this city; by I am not without my own agenda.
Jeremy Seghers once had me as a guest on his local radio show. He asked me how I had come to be aligned with so many local projects, indie businesses and creative networks in this city. I told him: “I’m just incredibly selfish”. (And I meant it.)
I did not move to Orlando because I wanted to be here. And when I arrived (not going to lie): I hated it! From my vantage point, Orlando was a cultural black hole. A wasteland.
After sulking for a few years, I finally decided to get selfish. If I was going to be “stuck” here, I was either going to ferret out what was already awesome about this city (there had to be something, right?) or I was going to be a part of creating something great. I would have the city I wanted for myself, one way or another. So, I started supporting projects, people and places around town that matched my “Ideal Orlando” vision.
This led me to Snap! ( Read more )
by Cris Phillips-Georg
Orlando is sooo not New York.
It’s not L.A.
It’s not even Chicago.
And I, for one, am glad of it.
So, I’ll thank you kindly to quit your bitching about The City Beautiful. I don’t care about what Orlando is not. I care about what Orlando already is and what it can still authentically become.
Here’s the reality check: Orlando has about as much chance of becoming an uber-urban New York-esque city as I have of becoming a 22-year old, size 2 super model. You can shape me, shame me, morph me, and contort me … but that sh*t just ain’t gonna happen.
I just want to be me, people. And Orlando just wants to be Orlando. Doesn’t mean we can’t try new things. Doesn’t mean we can’t shine our shoes, whittle our middles, and put our best faces on. Doesn’t mean we can’t open our minds, open our hearts and open our world up in order to discover the peak of our potential.
But at the end of the day, you have to either love us … or leave us. Because we are what we are. And if you’d stop criticizing us for 10 seconds and truly look for the positive: you’d discover that we’re pretty damn amazing.
Case in point: I’m rather pale, kinda quirky looking, and my singing sounds like small helpless animals being tortured to death.
BUT:Â I also have pretty hair, get endearingly excited about everything, and have a surprisingly shrewd, strategic mind that my pep-rally personality belies.
Likewise, Orlando has way too many strip malls and TacoBell/Long John Silver combos; harbors inhabitants who think swimsuit cover-ups are acceptable theatre attire; and seems to be well on its way to successfully inducting red-light running as the next Xtreme sport.
BUT: Orlando also has some of the most fun, little funky cafes and indie businesses you could ever hope to find. It offers cool, “real city” arts experiences (uh, hello FL Film Festival is happening as we speak and Snap! Orlando is right on the heels of it = Awesome!) while still feeling like a small-town community (b/c of course you’ll already know half the people you run into at both events). But most importantly, Orlando offers a place where you can still make a thumbprint. You, as a random individual, can readily contribute and make an actual positive impact on the trajectory of the city you live in. (Try that in New York).
My point is: It all comes down to what eyes you choose to see us with: … me and my pal Orlando. And that is what my Burrow Press blog posts are going to be about.
Because, sure, Orlando and I might both look better in soft lighting.
Doesn’t mean we’re not beautiful.
So, stay tuned, more blog posts coming soon. (Prepare to fall in love with us.)
At the crossroads of Maguire and Colonial, Florida’s most unglamorous intersection, I pulled behind a Ford F-150. Since I was stopped at the red light, I had time to watch the dancing man, dressed in gold, parading along the dingy sidewalk in 90-degree weather, waving his WE BUY GOLD sign, but I didn’t need to. Not today. Instead, my eyes were fixated on what was on the back window of the red monster truck in front of me. There, in swirly, white, bold letters, a sticker sat proud for everyone to see, “Silly Boys—Trucks Are For Girls!”
What on earth? Who would do that to their vehicle?
I looked down to the license plate as if it would provide some sort of explanation, at the very least a clue to what county this obtrusive sticker came from. But no. I couldn’t catch it. I had instantly become distracted by something else, the words PROUD BOONE HIGH SCHOOL BRAVE, plastered along the rim of the license plate.
Really? A high schooler. This can’t be right.
Immediately, I tried to eye the driver through the rearview mirror, and when that wasn’t satisfying enough, I drove up next to him as soon as the light turned green. I needed to make sure I was taking this all in properly. The truck driver was not a girl like the sticker implied. Instead, it was what looked like a middle-aged man with a visible, middle-income beer belly–though all questionable. And that’s when the train wreck of thoughts came fast and hard: Is that a grown man? Really? If so, who’s truck is he driving? His wife’s? What is she like? Is he miserable? Is he aware of this sticker? Should someone tell him about it? Should I? Does his kid cringe every time he or she has to be picked up from school? Does he even have a kid? Should he be allowed on school grounds? Should someone alert Boone High School? Why does the sticker address only silly boys? What technically defines a boy as silly? How does this compare to those who put stuffed animals in the back window of their car?
And then we parted ways. I turned right on Robinson and headed home, to the place where stickers aren’t allowed to stick on anything.
A lot of people in the slam community credit Paul Devlin’s SlamNation as a catalyst for them to get off their asses and start a slam in their town, be a slam poet in their town, or both.  The documentary inspired me to strive toward becoming a literary rock star, which I’m still working on.  My catalyst in starting the poetry slam here in Orlando came in response to a letter the Orlando Weekly published by performance poet Sandra Monday in 2000, who lamented the conversion of Java Jabbers into Back Booth and Orlando’s lack of culture.
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Put Back Booth on back burner and get involved – (Orlando Weekly: 9/14/2000)
Regarding the letter from Sandra Monday [“Beat doesn’t go on at Back Booth,” Sept. 7]: Over the last five years venues and weekly programs for poetry have diminished exponentially in Orlando.  We used to have the Yab Yum, Java Jabbers, Stardust, Performance Space Orlando and other locations.  Now poets are relegated to scattered open mikes in family bookstores.  Isn’t Orlando supposed to have the culture of a burgeoning metropolitan area?
Unfortunately, Orlando as a whole feels the need to be more attractive to transient citizens than to those who live here day in and day out. Â Do most of us want our city to be famous for theme parks and boy bands? Â No.
We need a major art/literary movement to awaken the minds of the 180,000 plus citizens of this town.  We need the world image of Orlando to be broadened.  All major cities have culture.  Look at New York, Chicago, San Francisco.  All of them have a national, if not international, recognition of their advances in all forms of art and culture.  Why can’t we share the same prestige?
There are a brave few who try to bring culture to our city.  Some of them include Victor Perez and Patrick Scott Barnes.  But they can’t do it alone.
And there are those who complain about the lack of culture and do nothing.  Those who do nothing and complain don’t deserve to complain.
And this all comes back to you, Ms. Monday.  I have read two letters making similar complaints in the Weekly, yet I don’t see you taking action to change things.  I’m making the rounds.  I’m seen around town, and I’m the managing editor for a publication that promotes free ideas and culture, ironically sponsored by the Sentinel.  I’m trying to make Orlando a better place.  I know you, and others like you, can as well.  All you need to do is DO SOMETHING.
J. Bradley, Managing Editor
UCF’s IndePENdent
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A month after that was published, I got my local English honors fraternity to help me start a poetry slam on UCF’s campus.  After, I quit my managing editor internship and focused on starting the Broken Speech Poetry Slam.  The IndePENdent folded, eventually.  The slam turns ten next week.  I think I made the right call.
Starting a show is tough.  Maintaining it week in, week out, month in, month out, is excruciating, but the sense of community it creates and the art it brings out makes the agony and the heartache worth it.  In 2000, the poetry scene was watery at best.  Now, we have amazing performance and writing talent in people such as Tod Caviness, Brendan Earl (you may know him as Ronin), Curtis Meyer, Shawn Welcome, and rising talent in Alex Ruiz and Sam Lamura.  We went from being smacked around left and right by bigger, badder cities at the National Poetry Slam, to holding our own, to beating those bigger, badder cities.  We’ve got an open mic devoted to poetry almost every night in Orlando.  It’s safe to say poetry’s healthy in this town and I can take some comfort I have something to do with that.
What gives me more hope in the cultural health of this city though is seeing the writers that came from here or migrated here making a splash in indie lit world, such as Laura van den Berg, Timothy Dicks, and Lindsay Hunter; and that Burrow Press is giving it a go in indie lit publishing here; having cool neighborhoods like The Milk District, and more art galleries like Neon Forest popping up around town.  We’re not there yet, but in comparison to where Orlando was in 2000-2001, we’ve come a long way.
I’ve made a lot of mistakes doing this, I won’t lie.  I’ve alienated people, been an unjustifiable asshole at times, but I’ve learned a lot from these hard lessons and overall, I think I deal with people better in running the slam and in life.
What can you do to make Orlando even better in the next ten years?  Do something.  You don’t have to slam, you don’t have to write, you don’t even have to be artistic, you can still do something.  Support your local arts, tell people about the cool stuff you saw, take part in the things that go on around you.  Do something, something small or something large.  Do something.  Orlando has enough haters.  We don’t need one more.
In ten years, I’ll still be here.  Maybe Broken Speech will be around still and we’ll get to talk again on its twentieth birthday, maybe it won’t be.  All I know is while I live in this city, I will do what I can to make it better.  What are you gonna do?
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J. Bradley is the SlamMaster of the Broken Speech Poetry Slam, which takes place every Third Thursday at Stardust Video & Coffee around 9:30 or so. Â The slam will celebrate its tenth birthday at The Cameo Theatre on January 27, featuring the No More Ribcage Tour and a three-round poetry slam. Â Check out J. Bradley at iheartfailure.net.
