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Archive for May, 2011

Peycho Kanev’s poetry collection, Bone Silence, evokes a theme repeating throughout: Our bones outlast us and remain our only testament in the world, even the greatest of us. Over time we are forgotten, our words are lost, and in the soil a story bones can’t tell. The writer pushes against death, strives for immortality in a temporal and zero-sum world or, as the author puts it: “as the tomb rock rolls among/the skulls of the geniuses of the past.”

Kanev opens the writer’s tale by yearning for the Word and illustrating the hard life that comes with seeking it. Automatically, this is a spiritual journey: in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God (John 1:1). This “mad God whirls” out of reach, and worse, He refuses to do anything about it. (more…)

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Uhm, what’s up, Doc?

From the start Gloom Cupboard has grown and the moment has come this magazine can’t be run anymore by one person, that’s why I gladly announce two new editors-in-chief: T.M. De Vos and Alan Garvey! Us three will assist you with all general and sometimes more specific compliments, problems, questions and of course the possible complaints …

Our team also gained a second poetry-editor Henry Ajumeze, who will work together with Luis and Amber.

Please welcome them :-)!

That’s all folks!

Lena

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Contributor to ‘The Gloom Cupboard’ and more recently to ‘Full of Crow’, Miceál Kearney is a breath of fresh air to Irish poetry, as evidenced by his first collection, ‘Inheritance’.  To anyone familiar with contemporary Irish literature it seems like we’re plagued by books harking back to the golden past of a rural setting, they mourn and wake the passing of ways and generations where our ancestors would turn in their graves if they knew how the countryside was being defiled; or novels and short stories set in Ireland before the 1970s, an Ireland many of us never saw or would have cared to live in, that claustrophobia and paranoia peculiar to insular midland towns.  ‘Inheritance’ shows that all is not lost; that there is a changing of hands, new turns on old practices and ways for the outside world to enter.  Country lore has not vanished, particularly not when it can be transmitted by SMS or poetry, for that matter. (more…)

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Even as a reader and follower of Gloom Cupboard, Rainbow’s End stands out as a most engaging section of this e-zine, dovetailing each edition with an ensemble from the writer’s desk; biodata, interview, work and, of course, reader’s response. In deciding to anchor this section, there’s need to continue providing the traditional meeting point between writer and reader; a rainbow of poetry arced through the sky for all to see, for all to behold and relish. But there’s far greater need now to broaden the scope.

Rainbow’s End has for long tilted towards European and American writing. My appointment to profile the Rainbow’s End section of Gloom Cupboard provides concomitant opportunity for African writers to contribute and balance the literary nuance of this e-zine. It is this balancing act really, a complete spectrum of activities from the otherness of poetry, a perfect rainbow where all hues and colours are reflected, a far illuminating reward.

I welcome you again to Rainbow’s End, hoping the variety will enrich your experience. Do continue to engage the author in the commentary box. Indeed, quoting the editor-in-chief, Lena Vanelslander, ‘conversation with the author is encouraged!’

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Authors get advances. Writers get day jobs.

This is a guest post by CalebJRoss as part of his Stranger Will Tour for Strange blog tour. He will be guest-posting beginning with the release of his novel Stranger Will in March 2011 to the release of his second novel, I Didn’t Mean to Be Kevin in November 2011. If you have connections to a lit blog of any type, professional journal or personal site, please contacthim. To be a groupie and follow this tour,subscribe to the Caleb J Ross blog RSS feed. Follow him on Twitter: @calebjross.com. Friend him on Facebook: Facebook.com/rosscaleb

The professional author pie is a small one, with author advances all but extinct and author royalties shrinking. I’m way too lazy to link to sources to validate that statement, but trust me, it’s true. Yet despite this negative trend, the number of wannabe authors remains strong. Why?

The simple answer is that many writers think of story-telling as something innate, or something not motivated by money. In the same way that visual artists (painters, sculptors, Bedazzlers, etc.) are contemporarily portrayed as jobless dirty people, authors would suffer the same problem if not for the strange acceptance of a supplemental day job. For a writer to have a day job is like a Thomas Jefferson having a slave; we don’t like it, but it happens so we have come to accept it. A visual artist with a day job is still just a dirty person. Academia excluded (visual or textual artists all have equal weight as university professors) a “normal” day job isn’t given the same respect in the world of paints and clay.

The complicated answer is that so many writers hope to be the exception. Some writers don’t mind authoring for money; I’m not talking about these wonderful people. Some writers want to make money by textualizing their philosophies. Is this possible? Has any author made a living only writing what they want, with absolutely no concern for money? I want to say “yes,” but I fear the answer is “no.” Examples please.

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Poetry # 133

Once upon a time immigrants had some radical ideas on labor, rights, democracy and society overall.  In May of 1886 in the cold streets of Chicago, they organized for the eight-hour workday and eventually were hanged.  Italians, Germans, Americans.  Anarchists, Socialists, Activists: Immigrants, all of them.  This issue has nothing to do with that whatsoever.  Happy May and enjoy!

Luis Rivas
Poetry Editor
Amber Bromer
Poetry Editor

Sustenance
By Ross Leese

the sun wears on in the sky
as the coffin dodgers continue to coax and dodge
and those less fortunate scrape and scream
at their
lids.

and earthworms are harmless
until they’re gnawing at
your eyeballs (more…)

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