BY C.M. MAYO — October 18, 2021 UPDATE: This blog was then entitled Madam Mayo (2006-2022).
Yea verily, even in the doldrums of the present rhinocerosness, the American literary short story lives on. I must thank Richard Polt, author of The Typewriter Revolution, for the prompt that inspired me to write my latest typewriter short story, “Julius Knows,” which, I am honored to report, appears in the gorgeous new Fall 2021 issue of Catamaran.
I’ll post “Julius Knows” here on the blog, as soon as I get around to typing it up on my Hermes 3000. Meanwhile, you can read my previous typewritten short story about a typewriter, “What Happened to the Dog,” which originally appeared in the anthology edited by Richard Polt, et al., Escapements: Typewritten Tales from Post-Digital Worlds.
I welcome your courteous comments which, should you feel so moved, you can email to me here.
I am delighted and honored to announce that my translation of Mexican writer Rose Mary Salum’s short story “La tía” as “The Aunt” appears in the shiny new Fall 2019 issue of Catamaran Literary Reader– check it out here. “The Aunt” is from The Water That Rocks the Silence, Salum’s collection of linked stories set in Lebanon, two other stories of which have previously appeared in Catamaran. Originally published in Spanish as El agua que mece el silencio (Vaso Roto, 2015), it won the International Latino Book Award and the prestigious Panamerican Award Carlos Montemayor.
Based in Santa Cruz, California, Catamaran is a stand-out on the West Coast literary scene, and, indeed, it is one of the finest English language literary magazines alive in the United States today.
Rose Mary Salum is not only a superb writer and poet, but she is one of Mexico’s most visionary editors, editor of Delta de arenas (an anthology of Arab, Jewish writing from Latin America), and founding editor of the literary magazineLiteral: Latin American Voices, Voces latinoamericanas and of Literal Publishing which, among others, publishes the “Deslocados” series of writing in Spanish by Latin Americans who live in the United States.
Here is a screenshot of her bio (and mine) from the current issue:
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Back in 2013 I did a very fun in-depth interview with Rose Mary Salum about her work for my Conversations with Other Writers occasional series podcast. You can listen in anytime here and read the complete transcript of that interview here.
And the Houston Chronicle has a piece on Salum and her International Latino Book Award here.
After attending for more years than I can count, in 2014 I swore off the annual conference of the Association of Writers and Writing Programs in lieu of fewer, more narrowly focused, and smaller writers conferences.* If you’re not familiar with it, AWP is huger than HUUUUGE, with an eye-addling and foot blister-inducing bookfair, plus endless panels, scads of receptions (free cheese cubes!), readings, and more readings, and even more readings. Finding friends at AWP oftentimes feels like trying to meet up at Grand Central Station at rush hour. Of the panels that appeal, dagnabbit, they somehow occupy the same time slot. Then try finding a table for an impromptu group of 13 on Friday at 7 PM! But sometimes, never mind, it all aligns beautifully and you can find friends and inspiration and new friends and all whatnot!
*For example, the American Literary Translators Association; Biographers International; Center for Big Bend Studies; Texas Institute of Letters; Women Writing the West.
Never say never. What brought me back to AWP this last weekend in March of 2019 was to celebrate Gival Press’s 20th anniversary with a reading from my book Meteor, which won the Gival Press Poetry Award, and a booksigning at the Gival Press table in the bookfair. I also went to see friends and to scout out who’s publishing translations these days, since I have a couple of manuscripts of contemporary Mexican fiction that I’m aiming to place. Yet another reason was for a spritz of inspiration. (And I won’t go on about the lovely and fascinating city of Portland, since this is already a longish post.)
Think no one is reading books and literary magazines anymore? Here are just a few of the multitude of aisles of the 2019 AWP bookfair this year in Portland’s Oregon Convention Center:
The above views are typical, in my experience from AWPs in Austin, Chicago, Palm Springs, New York City, Denver, Seattle… I’m sure I left one out… they all kinda meld together in my memories…
I spent most of my time at AWP this year in the bookfair. Among the shining highlights for me was finding Alexandra van de Kamp, one of my favorite poets, and a fellow literary editor and Spanish translator– we met at a book fair in New York City back when she was editing Terra Incognita and I, Tameme, and we’ve kept in touch for all these years. I think it’s been (ayy) 20. Alexandra now teaches poetry workshops at Gemini Ink, the literary arts center in San Antonio, Texas, where she also serves as Executive Director.
Here’s my favorite table in the bookfair, a cozy red tent constructed by Nicholas Adamski, poet and Chief Creative Officer of The Poetry Society of New York. We had a most excellently awesome conversation about typewriters.
What I had not seen before at an AWP bookfair was this central platform for filming author interviews:
WHY ATTEND AWP?
It takes a pile of clams to attend AWP, plus travel costs, plus time– and that includes recovery time. Everyone has their own reasons for attending, and these might vary from year to year. I’ll speak for myself: In early years I attended AWP in order to promote my literary magazine, Tameme, and that meant standing at the table in the bookfair all day every day– which was fun, mostly, but exhausting (I developed an immense respect for vegetable sellers, I am not kidding). Later, after Tameme danced its jig over the litmag rainbow, I focused on participating on and attending panels as a writer (here’s one I did in for AWP on writers blogs in Seattle 2014; in previous years I participated on panels on writing travel memoir; writing across cultures; translating Mexican writers; and audio CDs– the latter on the eve of the advent of podcasting); exploring the bookfair (among other benefits, you can pitch editors sometimes, and sometimes it actually works); and meeting up with my editors, and with fellow poets and writers and translators. (The American Literary Translators Asociation, which has its own annual conference, also runs a mini-conference within the AWP conference. Ditto the Council of Literary Magazines and Presses, for which many editors and marketing staff attend.)
AWP is the MFA scene (Masters in Fine Arts in Writing). Most of the people attending seem to me to be students, graduates, or faculty of MFA programs. Those who are not, such as myself, are literary writers, poets, translators, and editors, and some staff of university-affliated conferences and independent nonprofit literary centers and organizations. While books and magazines are sold at AWP, this is not the commercial publishing scene. The publishers in the bookfair are for the most part university presses and university-associated literary magazines, and small independent presses and literary organizations. It’s not unheard of at AWP but extremely rare (as in albino antelope) to encounter an agent, or any commercial genre writing (romances, mystery, detective). You certainly won’t find much if anything in the way of the business books, commercial fiction, and celebrity tell-alls that are stock-in-trade for most bookstores.
OFF-SITERIE
A big draw for AWP is the delicious menu of off-site events, which are listed in the conference catalogue. The first night I arrived, I attended the readings by Leslie Pietrzyk from This Angel on My Chest, and Brad Felver, from The Dogs of Detroit, both winners of the University of Pittsburgh Press Drue Heinz Award for Short Fiction, at Mother Foucault’s Bookshop — a charming venue for two brilliant readings. Here’s my amiga Leslie:
Another offsite event was the Gival Press 20th Anniversary Celebration at the Hotel Rose, in which I participated with a batch of poems from Meteor. (No photos of Yours Truly. Bad hair day.)
Here’s Thaddeus Rutkowski reading his poem, “White and Wong”:
And here is my amigo novelist, short story writer, essayist, and literary activist Sergio Troncoso talking about “How to Overcome Discouragement and Use It as a Motivating Tool”:
AT THE AWP BOOKFAIR
The Natural Bridge table was one of many that I missed visiting at the bookfair. Alas, ever and always, there are dear friends, fabulous events, and necessary bookfair tables that one ends up missing at such a hugely huger than huge conference. AWP is not for the FOMO-ly challenged.
UPDATE: Karren Alenier has a fascinating post about AWP 2019, from the point of view of a poetry publisher. If you’re at all interested in the literary magazine and small press poetry scene, this is a must-read.
While it is a joy to be able to publish without gatekeepers– joy enough that I for one have been blogging every Monday and oftentimes more often since 2006– a curated presentation of poetry and prose, that is, the traditionally edited literary magazine on ye olde paper, has not disappeared, nor will it, and thank goodness.
As an ex-literary magazine editor myself (Tameme), I have a big heart full of appreciation for such magazines. And when they are as unique, and as beautifully edited and exceptionally well-designed as these two, I want to get up on the top of the roof and toot a tuba– or something!
CATAMARAN LITERARY READER
Founding editor Catherine Segurson describes Catamaran
as “pages full of color, inviting images, and engrossing stories, poems and
essays—all from curious and inventive minds.”
Indeed: standouts in this issue include a poem
and an essay by Richard Blanco, and the
several paintings by Bo Bartlett, whose “Via
Mal Contenti” graces the cover. More about artist Bo Bartlett in this
brief video:
Catamaran makes a special effort to
include literary translation in every issue. N.B.: Catamaran’s contributing
editors include essayist and translator Thomas Christensen and
poet, teacher, and noted translator Zack Rogow.
“Thank you for this journal which combines spiritual issues, imaginative issues, esthetic issues. All of those, I think, need to be in the mix for the richly lived life, the richly observed life.”
This Fall 2016 issue opens with a splendid essay
by poet Mark Doty, “Luckier / Rowdyish, Carlacue, Wormfence and Foosfoos.” Just
for that yonder-galaxy-beyond-the-Cineplex-title: Another thank you!
ABOUTFRANCISCO I. MADERO, Leader of Mexico’s 1910 Revolution; President of Mexico, 1911-1913
My piece in Tiferet about Madero’s 1911 Spiritist Manual did not include any of my translation, but you can read some of that here. Caveat: If you are unfamiliar with metaphysics you might find Madero’s Spiritist Manual… oh, I guess I would say… wiggy-zoomy.
In which case, I invite you to read my book about that book, my own wiggy-zoomy attempt to give it some cultural-historical-political context, which is available from amazon and other major sellers, and the website offers several lengthy excerpts, as well as extentive Q & A, a podcast of my talk for the University of California San Diego US Mexican Studies Center, the Centennial Lecture for University of Texas El Paso, and several other talks and interviews here. (My personal fave is Greg Kaminsky’s Occult of Personality.)
P.S. & P.S.S.
P.S. For those of you, dear readers, looking to
publish in literary magazines, everything I have to say about the oftentimes
crazy-making lottery-like ritual is here. If
you are audacious enough to start your own journal, I say, go for it! Please!
(But bring a case of apirin and a few wheelbarrows of dough. The green kind.) I
have more to say about literary magazines, past, mine, and future, here.
And for an interview with an editor who managed to establish an unusual level
of financial viability, be sure to check out my podcast
interview with Dallas Baxter, founder of Cenizo Journal.
P.S.S. If you’re wondering what’s up with Marfa Mondays, stay tuned,
the long overdue podcast 21 is still in-progress. Listen in to the other 20
podcasts posted to date here.