Yuk it up, kids

Calendar Listings by Mairead on Monday 8 February 2010 at 3:44 pm

FunnyHaHaLovesYouBigFunny Ha-Ha — “it’s just a reading for people who like to laugh,” says Claire Zulkey, lovely host (and author of a book with pink shag carpeting on its cover). “Plus we incorporate a few different media.”

This month’s show — on Tuesday, February 9th at the Hideout, per usual (1354 W Wabansia) — starts at 6:30 and features some super-awesome folks: James Kennedy, Cameron Esposito, Fred Sasaki, Robbie Q. Telfer, Kate Harding, and Steve Delahoyde. Not to give anything away or anything, but we’ve been following some of these kids around so are stoked for a night that might possibly include/reference blue feathers, fancy pants, pizza, and/or cats on keyboard.

Bonus: When you arrive, check the walls for the Hideout’s new and glorious February calendar, designed by Alana Bailey. It should be up by then and is wowzers.

“Spit is God’s lube”

Bulletins, Calendar Listings by Mairead on Saturday 6 February 2010 at 8:08 pm

The post below just arrived in our inboxes — we think Harold’s talking about the reading at the Whistler (2421 N Milwaukee) on Monday, February 8th, 8pm. I mean, we’re pretty sure. — Eds.

TO: editors@literago.org
FROM: haroldray@gmail.com
SUBJ: Does Literago have nerves of steel?

Most folks don’t know how to really get a thing clean. I mean, spic and span. Well, man, I tell you the secret is spit. Spit is God’s lube. I ain’t sure what all you may know about spit, but there’s a few things to bear in mind. A man can use spit for other things besides cleanin’ but he has to be careful about what he eats. Don’t want to spit shine things with onions on the breath. Much less a ramp. No that ain’t no good. Won’t stand up no better than it’ll roll down hill. And I don’t even need to go into what might happen if you got Copenhagen on your breath. That ain’t no way to live. It’s like I was tellin’ these folks at Myopic last month before that no-count son of a bitch Fred Sasaki stole the stage with his poor attitude. It’s about seein’ people livin’. That’s the thing.  Ain’t no poetry in standin’ up and restorin’ some sense of order to a thing. A thing has its own order. And a man can’t force his own personal order onto a thing. And it don’t mean that I’m some kind of bully or that I ain’t tolerant of other opinions. Hell, you can spit-shine any old words and folks’ll buy ‘em. But at what cost? I’ll tell you, folks, it’s at the cost of real livin’. That’s the cost. And it’s a steep price for a person to pay. That’s what I like about this here city they call Chicago. If I sing a song then I sing it. I don’t just dribble spit. But I want to warn you. I could tell in that boy’s eyes that he would come again and be itchin’ for trouble. That sawed-off motherfucker Sasaki will be there on Monday. I just know it. And we done had four women leave out from the last meetin’ because he didn’t have nerves of steel. And he cracked and it all thinned out like spit in a river. You just can’t expose yourself that way when folks are tryin’ to show you themselves livin’. There ain’t no poetry in exposure. There ain’t but a little bit of poetry in livin’. And we have to beat life to a pulp in order to wrench whatever poetry we can from it. That thought don’t scare me. I’m spitting piss and vinegar. Sterile, man. Clean. I got nerves of steel, fucker. Question is, do you?

This is a 45,000 lb. steel coil –

Calendar Listings by Mairead on Saturday 6 February 2010 at 2:23 pm

Feb8

– also the second installment of SO YOU THINK YOU HAVE NERVES OF STEEL?, an experimental reading series masterminded by THE2NDHAND folks and hosted by Literago’s own Jacob S. Knabb, hamming it up excellently per usual. Tonight’s readers are Irene “So much for German engineering” Wescott, Kate Duva (appropriately/awesomely billed as “arch-weird” and “explosive”), and Kyle Beachy, whose book, The Slide, actually made us cheer on the #8 bus one night. See also: some really beautiful music.

Bloggers on Ice

Calendar Listings by Mairead on Thursday 4 February 2010 at 2:55 pm

sonja-henie-ice-skatingThis video reminds us very much of what blogging, organizedly, can be like: confusing at first, occasionally hatless, mostly really wonderful, and usually better with friends. That last point’s especially important, as it’s easy to forget that sharing skills and making plans, maps, and pals off the interweb is still absolutely key.

To that end, Literago recommends and invites you to Blogger Industry Night, this Saturday, Feb. 6th at Millenium Park. Drinks and free horsey dervies at Park Grill Restaurant from 7-9, then ice skating at the McCormick Tribune rink until 11.

All the info you need is here — RSVP date was a few days ago, however we bet Sarah’ll be welcoming if you ask nicely. The invite is appropriately properly written but includes good folks (Printers Ball, Gapers Block) and key party words (disco lights, 50s jams, treat bags) — sounds like good times for sure.

Neptune City: new fiction by C.T. Ballentine

Column by C.T. on Thursday 4 February 2010 at 1:19 pm

Literago’s pleased to present Neptune City, a new work in serial by C.T. Ballentine. More installments coming soon. — Eds.

276302331_46a7f7434dOf course the warehouse, being empty, was considerably brighter than it had ever been during that whole ordeal. Walter wondered, had it always been this dusty? All memories seemed to him nocturnal: an array of colored lights swimming through a field of obscure electronic equipment draped in red satin, Walter wheeling about in an office chair, fetching a drink for one guest, a roach clip for another. All the while trying not to talk too much about Alexis, her absence conspicuous in what had been, primarily, a three month litany of loneliness began with their last kiss at O’Hare’s terminal three. There had been phone calls, sure, but phones, thought Walter, were bullshit.

The dust cast Stockwell in a murky penumbra of filth. Their eyes met with a naked recognition of shared shame. For explanation, Stockwell pointed a pudgy finger at the cell phone nestled into his shoulder’s hollow, no doubt attempting to liquidate what remained of their antiquated assets. Walter retreated to his former office cum bedroom—barren now—the diagrams and flowcharts torn down, the homemade chandeliers gone who knows where. All that remained was one sheet of that goddamned, infernal red paper.

“Must be strange,” said Stockwell, ducking to maneuver himself through the doorframe. “Being back here. Seeing it empty.”

Walter nodded.

“How have you been?” asked Stockwell with an uncharacteristic fragility.

Walter considered an offhanded quip about amphetamines or perhaps some light hearted reference to the week he’d spent certain he would die at Stockwell’s hand, but figured the gravity of the situation was probably best left unmocked and so answered instead with a shrug.

“I’ve been alright,” he added, after a moment. “Or you know, better anyway.”

Stockwell nodded. “Don’t suppose you know anyone looking to buy a reel-to-reel?” He didn’t wait for an answer, moving instead to the main room, pacing among the empty shelves. “We’ve gotten rid of most of it,” he said. “But some of this shit…a four hundred pound paper cutter, industrial kitchen sinks? These things do not move quickly.” Walter lit a cigarette in agreement.

Stockwell turned abruptly, a faint blush showing through his beard. “We gave your share of everything to Quill, you know, considering…”

“Of course,” replied Walter, leaving a trail of smoke to hang lazily in the dust-humid air. He took a seat at the folding table, fidgeting automatically with the fly swatter while Stockwell returned to his phone. The flyswatter, for Walter, conjured images of the first Smith & Jones office, back when the pair had operated in the relative sphere of anonymity to which they would likely return after the press fervor faded. The storefront had been positively overridden with flies. Unsurprising, really, given its equally dusty location in a largely uninhabited, low-rent corner of Chicago’s Paseo Boricua neighborhood, the playground Puerto Rican flags casting an ominous shadow on the front door of the building where Walter and Alexis first met.

He’d gone to the office one evening on a lark, playing straight man to Stockwell who, upon entry, set himself, predictably, to the task of irritating living hell out of both Smith and Jones by offering, unsolicited,  all manner of heavy handed advice on everything from plumbing to payroll. Within four minutes he’d offered to restaff their entire operation. Smith, red faced, failed to allow any of Stockwell’s opinions to pass unchallenged, while Jones resigned himself to sipping bluegrass beer and, occasionally, killing a fly.

The two, Alexis and Walter, discovered some degree of union in their indifference, at first casting errant glances in each other’s direction, later engaging in a clipped and awkward conversation concerning Baudelaire, Godart and a mutual affinity for 7-11 cuisine.

“The Big Poorboy,” opined Alexis. “Is as close to arriving at a class consciousness as any sandwich I know.”

Walter laughed. Alexis furrowed her brow.

“The sandwich,” continued Alexis. “Foodstuff of the proletariat finding its etymology in a goddamned Earl adds a layer of irony which ought not be ignored.”

Then and there, Walter asked Alexis out on a date. Alexis refused, then paused a moment and said, “Don’t get any ideas.”

The pair spent the duration of the summer hiding out in innocuous dive bars and passing notes—Alexis’s being mostly condemnation of their own bourgeois milieu, while Walter’s consisted primarily of sentimentally earnest flirtations. Alexis rejected the notion of a relationship outright, being unable to jibe with any notion as philosophically omniscient as love and, furthermore, refusing to relegate herself to systematic masculine oppression. Once, upon waking in Alexis’s spartan studio apartment, Walter said, “It’s just that I’d be sad if you were making out with other boys.” Alexis scoffed and refused any attempts at spooning for the rest of the morning. Never again did Walter broach the subject of relationships, preferring instead to, when allowed, exist quietly in Alexis’s embrace. The rest of his days were spent meticulously archiving the stack of loose-leaf notebook paper which had passed between their two hands.

Walter looked up at Stockwell whose phone was, at present, sitting idly at his side. “Have you sold the paper shredder?” he asked.

After a pregnant pause Stockwell answered. “We did, yes,” he said. “But the filing office…we haven’t gotten around to that yet. We tried selling it as confetti, but nobody bought that line.”

Walter advanced tentatively toward the filing office’s door while Stockwell looked on apprehensively. He stood frozen before it, until finally, with a cautious reverence, he pulled the handle outward to reveal a waist high stack of paper shreds. Contained therein were all of Walter and Alexis’s notes, in addition to blueprints of various skyscrapers, accounting ledgers both legit and otherwise and internet printouts concerning unified field theory, among other things. All destroyed in one manic burst when things had become, as Walter put it, a little too real.

Walter grinned. Taking a step back, he flung himself into the paper like so many autumn leaves. He lay on his back, tossing paper into the air, watching the corporeal manifestation of a year’s worth of dreams hang in the dust cloud overhead, flittering down onto his body like rain.

The Encyclopedia Show explores a new theatre.

Bulletins, Calendar Listings by Featherproof on Tuesday 2 February 2010 at 2:07 pm

The Encyclopedia Show moves for one night only to the Vittum Theatre, 1012 N Noble St. It’s happening on Wednesday, February 3 at 7:30 pm. Tickets $6 at the door. All ages. www.encyclopediashow.com Those are the facts, here’s the theme:

Robbie Q Telfer and Shanny Jean Maney explore it all.This Month – Series 2, Volume 6: Explorers

With music, poetry, visual art and spoken word on the topic: Explorers. Featuring contributors: Dave Awl (Author of What the Sea Means) Sacagawea, Cin Salach (Slam Legend) Gudridur Thorbjarnardottir, Derrick Brown (International Heart-throb, Founder of Write Bloody Press) Jacques Cousteau, Bob Boone (Founder of Young Chicago Authors) Neil Armstrong, Stephen Meads (Bay Area Raconteur and Hooligan) Internet Explorer 6, Greg Bee (BitterSingleGuy.com) John C. Lilly, Brian Morrison (Animation Student) MagellanThe Brothers Dodson: Zach Dodson (featherproof, Show ’n Tell Show) and Seth Dodson (1,2,3, Fag!, Glitter in the Gutter) Starship EnterpriseRaych Jackson(Louder Than a Bomb) Dora, Mike Martello (The Nothingheads) Marco Polo and John Davis (John Davis) John Davis, John Davis and John Davis. With hosts Robbie Q Telfer (Author of Spiking the Sucker Punch) and Shanny Jean Maney (Author of Our Brave Faces Were Just Smiles) and cast regulars: Kurt Heintz (E-Poets.net)– Fact Checker; Aaron Enskat (Former Normal Slammaster); Tim Stafford (HBO Def Poet); Joel Chmara(HBO Def Poet); Evan Chung (Musician) - House Band Leader “The Encartagans”; and Emily Rose (Poetry Vet and House Manager) as Jilted Emily Rose.

If you’ve never seen this great variety show – now would be a good time to explore.

Wednesday Glory

Calendar Listings by Mairead on Tuesday 2 February 2010 at 8:00 am

4320810033_8d1b666639Literago’s stoked about the two readings happening this Wednesday, February 3rd: “Home rEc” at rec room and “Explorers” at the Encyclopedia Show (note Encyclopedia Show’s venue change, this Wednesday only). Both of these long-standing shows (and their clever curators) are big reasons why literary Chicago is both awesome and uniquely awesome — go! Go especially if you’re new to town or want to dive in/help out. NOW IS THE TIME.

The Benefits and Faults of a Small Press Section

Column by Mairead on Monday 1 February 2010 at 10:59 am

"So many possibilities!"

"So many possibilities!"

Franny the Bookstore Cat, here.  If you’ll recall, I’m reporting in from the trenches of spending 40+ hours a week in a bookstore.

Lately, at my lovely workplace, we’ve been wondering about the possibility of starting a small press section.  Wandering into Myopic, you see a nice little shelf for McSweeney’s goods. At Unabridged, there’s just about the prettiest row of the solid-color-spined Europa Editions.  And if you’ve ever been to Europe, you know the joy of browsing books by publisher rather than genre or author.

One of the reasons this has been on my mind is the increasing number of small press titles coming into our store.  I’ve been trying to keep a close eye on new releases that don’t show up in major publisher catalogs: things distributed by Small Press Distribution, or not at all.  I know of a healthy handful of people who can spot these titles on the fiction wall by their size and well-designed spines, but I’m wondering if it might not benefit the books to be separated out into a Small Press section.  That way people who love Dalkey Archive, but aren’t familiar with Tarpaulin Sky can find similar books that much easier.

There are a few problems with this idea though, and some logistics to be worked out.

#1: Would sorting these books out into their own section increase or decrease the likelihood of a customer (who’s not particularly interested in supporting small presses) taking a chance on these books?

#2: Where should the line be drawn? Obviously, fledgling and limited edition presses (like Orange Alert or Green Lantern) would be placed in this section, but what’s the upper limit?  Is a press like Soft Skull too big?  Dzanc?  Melville House?  Those three presses all have wider distribution, making them more likely to be ordered to more bookstores. However, it seems each of these publishers are all still on the small side with very easily recognizable styles, not interested in forcing out bestsellers, but in making available books that will engage a more specific audience.

#3: Once this shelf is constructed, should all of the books of each press be placed in small clumps together?  Or should they be alphabetical by author in the hopes people might make discoveries by exploring the whole rack?

Would you be interested in such a section?  This is a project I’m excited about, but I want feedback from like-minded people to kick it off.  Speak, and Franny will make your desires fact.

– Franny the Bookstore Cat

CUL Reopens! January 30th

Bulletins, Calendar Listings by Mairead on Friday 29 January 2010 at 6:33 pm

newfront2The Chicago Underground Library (CUL) is something we’re duck-lucky to have in our city — founded in 2006 by Nell Taylor and Emerson Dameron, CUL connects, introduces, and surprises all kinds of rad Chicago writer-types. It’s a place for inspiration and — after jumping from a few boxes in the basement of Mercury Café to a full-fledged nonprofit in just four years — a model for growth. Even The New York Times did a head-snap.

As well it should! CUL has a rainbow-awesome archive, highlighting Chicago’s independent media and small press communities through an open acquisitions policy (meaning: it wants you) and a radical, straightforward cataloging process. CUL has crazy-awesome programming, riffing on everything from science fairs to roadshows to squid. Plus CUL has a straight-up-awesome staff, kind and savvy too — check the blog to drool over their bookshelves.

Want in on the excellence? This Saturday, January 30th from 3-5, CUL is holding an open house in the sparkly new space it’s sharing with Red Tape Theatre Company (621 W. Belmont, 2nd floor).

This is the perfect time to meet the staff or learn about upcoming programming (for example, the Storefront Theatre Project and Tuesday night Worklucks). To preview the new catalog. To high-five Nell Taylor. To donate your own works. You can also gawk at the archive (Gwendolyn Brooks chapbooks!), BYOB, or sign up to volunteer. See also: free drinks and free cookies.

P.S. Literago is not dating, related to, or paid by anyone at CUL. We’re in awe for real.

Monsters & Dust Seeks Contributions

Bulletins by Mairead on Thursday 28 January 2010 at 2:49 pm

banner

Monsters and Dust, the glorious new online magazine spearheaded by Aay Preston-Myint, Chris Pappas, and Joe Proulx — accurate adjectives on their website include innovative, fantastic, fabulous, subversive, radical, thoughtful, hilarious, witty, shrewd, cynical, optimistic, dark, surreal, sublime — recently announced their Spring 2010 theme, “Flowers”. To submit to it and/or future issues (”Ice”, “Barter”), go here, now!

Next Page »
Literago is powered by Wordpress - Site Design & Layout by Christopher Hudgens - Logo by Smart & Lovely