Introducing Kristin Beeler

 

 

I’m excited to announce that Kristin Beeler has graciously agreed to illustrate our upcoming 2011 winter/spring issue! Kristin earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts from Berea College in Berea, Kentucky and an MFA from the University of Arizona, Tuscon. She most recently had a solo exhibit titled Beauty and other Monsters at Velvet DaVinci Gallery in San Francisco.

 

Her artist’s statement:

 

“Beauty, as the perception of effortless perfection, is both protective and exclusionist. Its nature is unapproachable, our need for it unrealistic.We experience beauty as an internal sigh of relief when our senses connect sympathetically with the external. In those moments, beauty feels less like a discovery and more like a remembering. In the sublime, it makes us feel closer to god. In the extreme, it separates us from ourselves.

If I could, I would make pieces that were so beautiful, they made people uncomfortable, touching off an itch of vague desire. Beauty, it seems, is the heat generated by friction between that longing and relief.”

 

 

I have long admired Kristin’s keen eye for design and the mood and feeling that she coaxes out of otherwise lifeless objects. She is best known as a jewelry maker and metalsmith, but is also an avid collector of striking /images (digital and otherwise), antique/unusual spoons, and random castoff bolts and other metal bits and pieces. She is attracted to found objects with an unknown (and therefore mysterious) history.

 

 

These characterizations are my own, mind you, not part of her official bio, and based mostly on a morning walk we took together about a year-and-a-half ago. We were walking along the sidewalk of a one-stoplight town in the county that we both lived in and left during the 1980s. During the course of that walk, we stopped at a small antique shop to search for interesting spoons (found one, acquired it) then paused in the parking lot of of an old jewelry-store-turned-used-car-lot to admire and then also acquire a bit of rusted cast iron that caught her eye.

 

 

And I guess the point I’m making is this: Kristin’s eye is keen, eclectic, all-encompassing, and generous. I cannot wait to see the /images she offers up to accompany the fine work that will be forthcoming in our next issue. Thank you, Kristin!

 

Featuring Alicia Gifford

Alicia Gifford

 

I’ve admired, appreciated, and been inspired by Alicia Gifford’s work for a long time. It was in 2003 that I first “e-met” her online at Zoetrope Studios and ever since then I have been consistently wowed by the energized, engaged, and edgy work she produces. Her short story Fallen in the current issue of r.kv.r.y. caught my attention right away. It’s written in close third-person with the perfect mix of humor, crass, and insight, and I feel so fortunate that she let us share it with you here.

 

 

Alicia is also a fantastic editor at Night Train, and her short story “Toggling the Switch” published in Narrative Magazine won the 2005 Million Writers Award for best online short story of 2004. More of her fine work can be read by following the links below. And I’ve got to tell you, if you’re reading her work for the first time, you’re in for a rare treat–a storyteller smorgasbord.

 

Surviving Darwin

 

You Go

 

Gravitas: Epilogue

 

Wreckers

 

Ugly, Tasty, SVU

 

I also know that Alicia has been at work for some time on a novel-in-stories. I am eagerly awaiting its publication (after some smart agent snaps her up and sends out the manuscript, of course). Her short story Fallen is taken from that work-in-progress and although Fallen had been previously published (the brilliant editors at PANK snatched it up first) I knew I wanted it for r.kv.r.y.’s first issue with me as editor. (If for no other reason than to be able to someday say, “Oh, Alicia Gifford? Yeah, we published her way back when–well before she won the National Book Award for her novel-in-stories.)

 

Oh, and just FYI, there is also a female bodybuilder by the name of Alicia Gifford, but our Alicia Gifford is not that Alicia Gifford…though it is entirely possible they both have buns of steel.

 

Featuring Jessica Handler

This week on the r.kv.r.y. blog, I’m excited to feature the work of Jessica Handler, author of the fine essay Hungry from our fall/winter issue. I’ve long been an admirer of Jessica’s work. Let me see if I can articulate what impresses me the most about her writing. I’ll write as if I’m blurbing her book: “Jessica Handler has an amazing ability to distill a moment by taking us through the perfect combination of past events and the minute dissection of all things internal–especially engaging when read in her assured storyteller form.” Wait–that sounds like artspeak gobbledygook, doesn’t it? Clearly, I’m having a difficult time doing what she does so well (and by all appearances, effortlessly). Perhaps the best way to understand my rambling attempt at description is to read one of her marvelous essays or her moving memoir, Invisible Sisters.

In addition to Hungry, you can read her excellent short essay To the Moon in Brevity: A Journal of Concise Literary Nonfiction.

If you prefer to listen to her mellow, assured, dulcet voice, I recommend this link to an interview on Georgia Public Radio.

Her blog has links to many others and you can visit that here: Swimming in the trees.

 

 

And I highly recommend her memoir Invisible Sisters, which can be purchased here.

Here is the book’s write up: “When Jessica Handler was eight years old, her younger sister Susie was diagnosed with leukemia. To any family, the diagnosis would have been upending, but to the Handlers, whose youngest daughter Sarah had been born with a rare congenital blood disorder, it was an unimaginable verdict. By the time Jessica Handler turned nine, she had begun to introduce herself as the “well sibling;” and her family had begun to come apart.

Invisible Sisters is Handler’s powerfully told story of coming of age—as the daughter of progressive Jewish parents who move south to participate in the social-justice movement of the 1960s; as a healthy sister living in the shadow of her siblings’ illness; and as a young woman struggling to step out of the shadow of her sisters’ deaths, to find and redefine herself anew. With keen-eyed sensitivity, Handler’s brave account explores family love and loss, and what it takes not just to survive, but to keep living.”

I’m proud and honored to have Jessica’s awesome essay appear in my first issue as r.kv.r.y.’s editor.

Showcasing Myra Sherman

Myra Sherman’s fine short story “Tears of Christ” was one of the surprise “over the transom” pieces that I just couldn’t resist. I love it when this happens–it’s like a surprise present just sitting there waiting for me to notice it. The first-person point of view narrator in this story really spoke to me. I felt like I knew her. She’s older, but feisty and going through some tremendously difficult times, but it only made me love her even more.

Tears of Christ

Myra also has a wonderful piece titled The Hospital that first appeared in the June 2010 issue of Skive Magazine and was performed and recorded by Diane Havens. It’s a marvelous story and a fabulous dramatic reading. You can listen by clicking below.

We are proud and honored to have Myra’s fine work appear in this issue of r.kv.r.y.!

Showcasing the Work of Tracy Crow

 

I first became aware of Tracy Crow’s work when I heard her read at an open mic night in downtown Charlotte, NC. The room was buzzing with the kind of noise that a bar on a Saturday night generates and I was preparing to be that person–the one who gives a loud “Shhhh!” to try to quiet down the room–but I didn’t get the chance. Tracy walked on stage and the first wave of noise quieted. She’s got a commanding presence thanks to an utterly appealing combination of runway model looks and Marine Corps officer panache. Half of the barflies immediately shut their mouths or dropped them open in awe. Then she started reading and the other half quickly followed suit. Her writing was riveting and her voice captivating. Readers were only allowed five minutes at the mic that night, but Tracy’s five minutes were enough to make a lasting impression on all of us.

 

So, when I took over editorship of r.kv.ry., I knew I wanted to talk her out of some of her fine non-fiction. I had read a wonderful piece of hers in The Missouri Review a few years back and asked for that. It was titled The Facelift, and you can read it here.

 

I reread The Facelift, loved it all over again, and immediately accepted it. Then Tracy casually mentioned that she had this other piece that had come really close at Esquire, but that had somehow been passed over. I was intrigued and asked her to send it along. It was What I Can Tell You Now and I promptly (and sheepishly) asked if I might publish it instead. I did this for several reasons–one, because it was unpublished, which appealed to me, and two, because it was set in Roanoke, Virginia, a place very near my hometown of Floyd. I knew the Star at the top of Mill Mountain that changed colors with news of auto accidents. I knew the mountains. I felt like I knew the narrator. So it was a combination personal-professional reason, as I suspect most acceptances are. Tracy graciously allowed me to un-accept the other essay, and accept this one instead. (I hope I have since become a more professional editor, but thankfully she let me cut my editorial teeth on her.)

 

Oh, and Tracy is also a former r.kv.r.y author, published four years ago under Victoria Pynchon’s editorship, so it’s made for a nice continuity having her work also in my first issue as editor. Her other r.kv.r.y. essay, Shooting Azimuths, can be read here.

 

And I’m thrilled to mention that her fabulous memoir EYES RIGHT will be forthcoming next year from the University of Nebraska Press. Look for it! I promise you it’s a must-read.

 

Showcasing Isobel Dixon

Isobel Dixon

 

I first read Isobel Dixon’s gorgeous book of poetry, A Fold in the Map, on a long trans-continental flight headed for a bunch of book signings and author appearances of my own. I was sick with the chesty remnants of a rotten head cold and flying with my co-author, with whom I would be doing the appearances. Given my physical state, the flight could have been tortuous, but Isobel’s book of extraordinary poetry helped to make the long flight…well…fly by. My co-author and I kept passing the book back and forth with tears in our eyes saying things like, “Oh, read this one” and “Oh, my, you’ll like this.” Reading poetry is so often a solitary pleasure, but it was an extraordinary treat to share the experience of reading Isobel’s work in this way.

 

When I learned that I would be taking over editorship of r.kv.r.y. I knew that Isobel’s gorgeous and lyrical yet clear-eyed and unflinching poetry would be one of the first I would solicit. I am so pleased she allowed us to share them with all of you.

 

 

A sampling of Isobel’s other marvelous poems can be read here.

 

And I am eagerly awaiting her next collection, also published by Salt, titled The Tempest Prognosticator which will come out next year.

Showcasing Joan Hanna

Joan Hanna

 

Publication of Joan Hanna’s fine piece Breathing in our Shorts On Survival section almost didn’t happen. I’m sorry to say that in the messy process of transferring editorship, a number of pieces were misplaced in the shuffle. (If you submitted before this summer and have not heard back, please do submit again, this time using our handy-dandy submission page that can be fiound here. There will be no more getting lost with this system.) At any rate, during one of our email conversations, former editor Victoria Pynchon mentioned that she had received a piece from Joan (whom I was familiar with from a Facebook friendship, already) and I contacted Joan and asked her to resubmit her piece. I am so glad I did. Such solicitations don’t always result in a match, but I knew right away that Joan’s fine piece would be a perfect fit for r.kv.r.y.

 

Breathing

 

Her story is a second-person account of surviving spousal abuse and with a few edits–which she graciously agreed to make–Breathing became one of the very first pieces I accepted for this issue. She has been a consistent delight to work with and her talents as writer are equally matched by her talents as reader and reviewer. In fact, we are hoping to make her a permanent member of the r.kv.r.y. staff. Details to follow! 🙂

 

In the meantime, please visit Joan’s blog and get to know this fine writer.

 

Cheers,

 

Mary Akers

Editor, r.kv.r.y.

Showcasing the work of Jeffery Hess

Jeffery Hess

 

I first met Jeffery Hess (Weight of the Moment) in 2003, in Charlotte, North Carolina at Queens University. It was the year I was teaching my graduate craft class and he was in the audience as a first year MFA student. I noticed him right away, partly because the male-to-female ratio in our MFA program was pretty low, and mostly because he was listening intently, nodding, and taking notes. I don’t think we met formally then, but at some point we shared creative work outside of the program. The story he sent to me for a critique was Weight of the Moment. It was a fantastic story and I told him so.

 

weight of the moment(It was also the favorite story of our illustrator, Dawn Estrin, and she created a great image to accompany it.)

 

The idea of exploring weight issues and an eating disorder from a male point-of-view really struck a chord with me, and I have never forgotten that story. When I took over editorship of r.kv.r.y. I knew I wanted to bring it to print and share it with the rest of the world. Lucky me–lucky you!–he agreed to let us publish it and I’m proud to have it appear in my first issue as editor of r.kv.r.y. What better evidence of Jeff’s fine writing than to have an editor remember his story from reading it five years prior and then soliciting it? I think he wins the prize in this issue for the story coveted the longest.

 

 

Jeff is also an excellent editor in his own right. He assembled and edited the Press 53 anthology Home of the Brave, a fine collection of military-themed stories including work by Kurt Vonnegut, Tim O’Brien, Tobias Wolff, Chris Offutt, and Benjamin Percy, among others. As the foward says, it’s got “shipbuilders and sailors, pilots, wild dogs, battles–both physical and emotional, misunderstandings, fistfights, and the wounds of unrequited love. There are parades and hurricanes, people getting high and some merely getting by, as well as the human sacrifices made, the losses endured, the hardships faced because of or in spite of some connection to the military.”

 

Please take a few moments to visit the website of Home of the Brave, read a great review at Get Lit and then listen to Jeff talk about the book in an interview with Dennis Miller on The Dennis Miller Show.

 

I do hope you will read Jeff’s very fine story and enjoy some of the additional links. We’re proud to have him as a r.kv.r.y. author.

Showcasing Jim Ruland’s work

This issue of r.kv.r.y. contains a number of pieces that I personally solicited. This being my first issue as editor-in-chief, I felt it would be appropriate to solicit particular work that I had found especially moving or thought provoking. It seemed like a good way to showcase my editorial bent and also to give some attention to authors whose work I admire and would like to see get more attention. Over the next few weeks, I plan to introduce you to the writers and their work in greater depth.

Jim Ruland (Shot Through the Heart) is first up.

I first experienced Jim Ruland’s awesome writing by hearing it. He had a piece on NPR about his father’s military service as a swiftboat veteran which I found extremely moving. You can still find it here if you’d like to listen. The honesty and love in that piece intrigued me enough to make me want to read his short story collection Big Lonesome, which I promptly ordered.

 

 

And then wrote a review of that book that can be read here.

I have since also enjoyed his essay on visiting Robert Smithson’s Spiral Jetty that appeared in Salt Flats Journal.

I finally met Jim in person (and saw/heard him read from his work) at Bread Loaf last year. Some online friendships or author-reader relationships don’t fare well in the real world, but this was not the case with Jim and his fine writing/creative work. I am proud and honored to have his work appear in this first issue of r.kv.r.y. with my name at the top of the masthead.

“Lamb” by Isobel Dixon

deathbed ram
Image by Dawn Estrin

We left him sleeping peaceful in the night
but they have tied him down, bony wrists
wrapped in a sheepskin cuff, lashed tightly to the rail.

He was fierce after we left, they say:
shouting, tearing at the drip. Hard to believe it
of this gentle man, but this morning,

unbound for the time we’re there, he cavils,
clawing at the needle in his arm, moaning
and stubborn, baring his teeth at us

when we refuse. I stroke his fettered hand,
his paper forehead, murmur comfort,
courage, anything. He shakes me off, tossing

his head, red-eyed, an angry ram. Ha!
I must remember who I am: his child,
just a child, why do I question him?

So I hold my tongue, but stay. Lift up the cup,
with its candy-striped concertina straw,
to his splintered lip and he, in resignation, sucks.

Yes, we make a meagre congregation, father,
disobedient. The flesh, indeed, is weak.
Still, remembered echoes of his sermons come:

a promised child, the tangled ram, the sheep-clothed son;
last-minute rescues, legacies, and lies.
The promised and the chosen, certain hopes.

How, from these stories are we to be wise?
His word was clear and sure before, but now
his raging, rambling, shakes this listener’s heart.

And yet, to be here, of some small use,
is a kind of peace. Three spoons of food,
oil for his hands, his feet. Then at last,
at last, returning to gentleness, he sleeps.

 

 

Isobel Dixon grew up in South Africa, where her prize-winning debut Weather Eye was published. Her poems have appeared in The Paris Review, Financial Times, The Guardian, The Manhattan Review, Southwest Review, Magma, Succour and Wasafiri, among others. She has been commissioned to write poems for the British Film Institute, and her work is included in several anthologies, including Penguin’s Poems for Love and The Forward Book of Poetry 2009. Her latest collection A Fold in the Map is published by Salt. Her next collection, The Tempest Prognosticator, comes out from Salt next year. www.isobeldixon.com Lamb taken from A Fold in the Map, ©2007, (UK: Salt; SA: Jacana), Reprinted with permission.