Adelaide Literary Magazine No. 40

Revista Literária Adelaide

actual crashes and laughs and a few bruises Sunshower
and scratches. We’d cooked
it. Stores wouldn’t open I read while walking to work,
before we slowly rolled our skipping iambs off pavement
way back to my house like morsels of volcanic black
and plop fully dressed onto bitten to bits by gnashing steel teeth.
the couches and cots
we’d arranged in the den and The sky, well, the sky was bright white
promised my mom lined grey by small sets of symbols.
we would be in by midnight—at the latest. Trees and bushes and airplanes too
scroll themselves in this cipher.

When rain came from god-knows-where,
I sheltered the hard rectangle under
the safety of a soft cotton tee. Library
frowns and fines for furloughs to fluid,

pages waved in swells of
amniotic reminiscence.
Is it my place to keep these leaves
from nostalgia? Way station between tree seed
and prosody, where pulp sperm mingled

in that mellifluous marvel: the cream
of tree sandwiched between solid states.
Who am I, beside a name and date
on manila card stock glued to inside cover

of library-bound book? Poet sequestered
to a makeshift teepee. East, I see
the thin cloud’s white sun screen leading
to grey, like wads of partially
recycled newspaper,

where words bleed from lines, congeal,
and I wait with bated sight for the sun’s
synesthesia or the rain’s tinny
feet to walk me the last three blocks.

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Paper Plates Arced with Rainbows From Stone, 2005

Blood first entered family gatherings The cruise ship isn’t far enough off
during my sixth birthday party for the raucousness to drown in the ocean
when Uncle Dan swaggered and asked of space that separates me from it,
Dad to tell The unicorn story standing bare foot on the drying concrete
and Dad punched his nose of the beach at wave’s edge,
which introduced its now-familiar kink. where the ocean’s colander
Yelling, neon napkin daubing moves grains one at a time, south.
and staunching followed. Then cake. In college I learned that the Baja
appendage hanging phallic from California
Unbuttoned and sweetened, was once Rocky Mountain silt,
adults porched up beneath McKinley rock that was panned
the tiny screams of the bug zapper all the way down the Pacific coast
as the brothers walked toward cattails by the current like snowbirds.
by the dock to talk and not punch—though James had written a poem about marks
they did punch, with enthusiasm, in the sand along an Alaskan river
concealed by darkness and distance. from his childhood, and I hadn’t liked it.
I still don’t, and I can’t decide
The aunts and remaining uncle what that says about me, two years
laughed, sipped piney gin and tonics after he tried trepanning with his pistol.
from red plastic cups and I learned But James came to mind as I strayed
why we knock icicles off the horse barn— from the hard-drinking party boat
salty roof slats—through a comic he’d have called me a bitch for leaving,
memory of Dad seeing the silhouette but it isn’t the shitty details of
of his first foal moments after it mimed his drinking stories I am likely to forget—
giraffe for the saltcicle, bit puking blood, cold tremor detox,
and loosed a neighbor stalactite those phrases are always present
into its eye. Its fantastic outline foiled when I think of him—and it isn’t
by the sharp refraction of horse-scream. even the poem I didn’t like or
The childish echo—their farmhome the bloody right hand inside joke
and death so distant from our porch, that’s become a joke to one
the whole safe world I’d known, and has effectively lost its laughter.
that this was told a joke. The waves try to whisper their logic
as they cusp at my toe tips,
but I only speak English, and the
Cabo culture doesn’t allow you to
play telephone with the current for long
before a Fun Search Party strumbles up
the beach, cast from the ship for me,
standing on sand that may’ve been
a cliff to John Muir, a tripod
weight for Ansel Adams, grit between
the toes of my friend.

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Inanimate and Trapped

You said onions made you cry, and
to think of the plight of roots in the city.
Toes clenching frayed bottom
of the zarape blanket we wore
like an onion skin against night.
Breath tasting of the spaghetti I’d made.

A tea light melted its plastic
and bled red wax across the tablecloth
to create a lava pile on the taupe carpet
as I let my fingertips rustle
just the micro-fine hair on your cheek,
invisible to the non-focused eye.

Like roots of urban Jacaranda trees
with steel grate shackling trunk.

But when you said you cried for onions
you laughed. Rotated to your hip and fit
onto my angled body like a chain link.
The carpet had dried and the
wick long-starved of flame
as we watched headlights animate blind slats
and spoke of other trapped inanimate objects,
and laughed, and felt gravity lift
from our bodies and only stayed
on the futon from the force of ourselves.

About the Author

Zebulon Huset is a teacher, writer and photographer living
in San Diego. His writing has recently appeared in Meridian,
The Southern Review, Louisville Review, Fence, Rosebud,
Atlanta Review and Texas Review among others. He publishes
a writing prompt blog Notebooking Daily and is the editor of
the journal Coastal Shelf.

151

DARK MOON,
LONELINESS, AND

HOPE

by Gary William Ramsey

The Dark Moon disappears
while I sit here, gazing at the star filled sky.
Its absence allows quiet times.
During these peaceful times,
I think of the mysteries of the universe.

I think of life, death, and happiness.
I think of love, and of her,
and her elusiveness from my heart.

She is still a mystery and a fantasy.
A muse, who infrequently appears
to keep me confused and excited.
The pleasures of her sweet love
are locked away in my ambiguous dreams.

The warmth of her presence is buried deep
within the reality of my insecurities.
My refusal to release my dream into reality
is burning the core of truth.
I now exist alone, within normality and boredom.

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Bathed in the gaze of my eyes,
and the sorrows within my soul,
the Dark Moon casts its invisible slivers of light.
Its blackness remains more beautiful than the stars
But my heart rejects its rare splendor.
At this time, my bravery is harshly limited,
as I conform to civilization’s demands.
I live my life with blinders on,
While playing the fools game,
unwilling to gamble for happiness.
The Dark Moon’s elusive rays spilled
from the hands of the night sky.
They are seeping into every crevice of my mind.
Maybe my love is out there somewhere. If she appears, my emptiness will be fulfilled.

About the Author
Gary William Ramsey was born in Monroe, North Carolina.
He graduated from Western Carolina University with
degrees in Business Administration and Social Sciences. He
enjoyed a highly successful career in retail, achieving the
titles of President and CEO of two major U.S. corporations.
Gary lived in 17 different locations in the USA and has
traveled to numerous countries around the world. He uses
these experiences in his writings. Gary presently resides in
Kemah, Texas.

153

GOAL POSTED

by Rebecca Dempsey

Goal posted Hand made life

There was nothing said Sun leathered, gnarled
until my brothers saw it happen. bloodied and scarred
They told Mum, who, shaking in rage, lanolin varnished, bruised
told the head nun about the bullying. greased, sandpapered
More than bullied, winter stiffened; cricket smashed
small boys were grabbed, arms held, cigarette yellowed; creosote stained
and with their legs spread bitten, burned, and reshaped
They were lifted and rammed by farm animals and tilled land,
into the football goal posts These hands
Then left gasping, to crawl, with fingers bent and broken
stumble across the oval, endure multiple lives and have spoken
back to class once the bell of sweat, pain, of the crushing load
rang for end of lunch. of debts paid with nothing owed
they were strong, worked night and day
The girls wielded silence and scorn; like clocks, they show time’s tenacity
knives slicing into my flesh like all life, they reveal human frailty
exposed but unbruised. Unwitnessed And even in their eventual decay
whispers did other kinds of damage. As bones, these hands will have much to say

About the Author
Rebecca Dempsey is a writer based in Melbourne, Australia. Her short fiction and poetry has
been published around the world. She can be found at WritingBec.com.

154

I AM ALWAYS HUNGRY
AND WANTING TO
HAVE SEX

by Yessica Klein

Am Always Hungry & Wanting To Have Sex gradually collapsing into
After Eileen Myles and Anne Carson each other - does it matter
to us that there were
scooped smooth peanut other people to love?
butter longing for it took two to tango
the surface that dresses & we can’t even dance
the newly found
world of you
classified quietness
kindred galaxies

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Adelaide Literary Magazine
I Am Part Of The Universe & The Universe Is Part Of Me

though we watched a shooting we did not kiss, the seconds before you
star together, that was not arrived home, a song of tingling keys
our favourite moment. yours was by the building door. former lovers:
a hand job whilst stranded in a cave we are not our own feelings
in Port Bou, the high tide and the storm let alone another being’s mess.
keeping us attached. mine was something outside our old kitchen window,
so ephemerally precious that I the night buzzes with no promises
can no longer recall, the hours in which but silence.

How Do We Sleep At Night

Lover, how do we sleep at night? The rise of right-wing politics with
comb-overs & bad tan, religious extremists who bomb cities in
name of their imaginary friends. Oh god, yes, another glass of

wine, please. Why not? Soon we will be drowning in plastic,
especially coffee capsules by Corporations™, by 2050 our
oceans will have more of it than fish. Yes, in volume. No, I’m not

sure whales do count. I was in Brazil when the Amazon
was on fire, looked outside thinking a storm was coming,
wondered what the fuck was burning. Some toast? The whole planet,

you’re right. I don’t know how people have kids these days. When
everything is glowing red. Hottest summer in Europe since forever,
right? & the Atlantic here is still fucking cold. This brand did a

silk scarf with all the extinct insects in the last 5 years. I read
today they are giving rhinos 2-3 years as well. It wouldn’t surprise
me if tomorrow the locust cloud came with their hunger. We

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failed this, didn’t we? Not even domesticated animals will last after
us - we failed our innocent pets as well. There might be a meteor
coming, but we won’t know until it’s too close. Aliens? They

scare me the most, a threat more unstoppable than climate change.
If the zombie apocalypse comes, I want to be on the half-dead side
& save myself from all the fucking stress & adrenaline rush.

Lover, how do we sleep at night? The nape of your neck, I follow
its curvature to your shoulders. I’d trace your freckles to the
end of the world.

I’m About To Show Him A Little Bit More Of Myself

Thin calves in men: trace muscles with lace fingers,
the softest Nivea skin. Longer Sunday mornings in bed, please. Cook
breakfast with last night’s cat-eye blissfully smudged, wearing a checked robe.

Isn’t chaos such a wonderful surprise party? Death Cab as the soundtrack of
two teenagers who had forgotten what amazing feels in these liquid capitalist days.
Sink into this possibility with a blob: feelings are the opposite of volatile.

Should we tell each other secrets & should we believe in what we’re
saying in the first place -- the world outside my head never feels real enough.
Love is that stupid smile on your face, stupid.

Love plays hide & seek between sheets: an uncertainty so sweet & sticky.
It lathers easily & pops delicately against the Berlin blues as we get distracted
-- call it divine timing, call it the earlier spring ever recorded in Europe.

My room is like the inside of my mind, flowers included. When you arrive,
the doorbell explodes my heart into bloody bits of heart-shaped paper.
Give me solutions for that side-smile of yours.

I am sitting on your kitchen window smoking my 5th cigarette, trying to burn
your arm hairs with my Clipper. When the alarm breaks the spell, you say no
& hug me tighter. I chew on paranoias craving a candied sugar-rush.

I am still both a cynic & a hopeless romantic.

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Adelaide Literary Magazine

I Can Resist Everything Except Temptation

if I were a Catholic, I would bring guilt
to the opening line of a poem. instead:
we exhale good-byes into the 3am fog
& watch the crystals of unspoken not-
so-secrets pop on phone screens. if I
were a Catholic, I might bring wine
into this calculated occasion. instead
I take note of the dimple, the eyebrow scar;
a mind that finds its way to a kiss every 13s,
every mid-sentence. if I were a Catholic,
I would surely intrude because of second
nature. I would talk too much about the
miracles of chance meetings, consider
premeditation - & still the dialectics
of good & evil prevail, the existentialism
of just one more drink on Thursdays. if I
were a Catholic, I couldn’t believe in
this type of conversational magic &
would never mention the pretentiousness
of words like connection and /
or chemistry. life is a lot easier when you
have a god that tells you to shut up &
look the other way. someone else who as
sure as hell is not leading us into temptation -
I consider leaping into the uncertainty
but it might as well just be a selfish whim.
if I were a Catholic, I would find these
words & pray: I am at a crossroads,
I am doubting my faith.

About the Author

Yessica Klein is a half-Brazilian, half-German writer and artist living in Berlin, Germany. I
holds an MA in Creative Writing from Kingston University (London, UK) and was shortlisted
for the 2017 Jane Martin Poetry Prize (Cambridge University, UK). Her poems and artwork
have been featured online and in print, most recently at 3:AM, SALT., elsewhere journal,
porridge magazine, Beacon Quarterly, hotdog magazine, the Museum Of Futures, and many
more.

158

BLUE FOX SEATS

by Terry Brinkman

Alabaster Breast Milk Her Violin

Ilk Horns Dragon-Lilies Zodiac redemption Seated crossed-legged playing her Violin
Irish wine Brandy sniffer grace Transmigration grace of foul flower rot
She’ll be back in a flash Menem-psychosis redemption Gin
Limp as a wet rag looking at her face My hat was hanging on the
Pollenate paraphernalia paper trash floor under Apricots
Alabaster Breast Milk white gulden embrace Nicked myself shaving in a blindfold
Cotton polis flourished exceedingly rash Word of God’s Robot
Her Tin of navels jest totty grace Smelling her fresh printed rag paper gets retold
Nudging the door open with her
knee to leave his Yacht
The Sun was setting the color of Gold

Blue Fox Seats Headstone Swag

Little pool by the rocks covered with straw Vision of Jack priest’s nightmare office
Expensive Blue Fox Seats in her Cadillac Red bridge sag
She stole an arm around his Ruddy wool carper rag
waist, then a smack Cowboys and Indians Parrot kiss
Pent-up feelings dry grace nicely Dark lady and fair man’s half-life kiss
before redemption guffaw Ghost woman nag
Tinder-box clattering See-Saw Grave yard headstone swag
Perfectly served toast in a stack Chalk-scrawled youth’s prejudice
Impetuous fellow character of the Zodiac Bull-dog’s tail wag
Scorching his things wearing Azure for awe Sea the lobe arching of the orangutan

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Old man’s age Adelaide Literary Magazine
Whirling whistle clang
Sea cold eyes rampage Sonnet CCVI
Maladroit silk Boomerang Little pool by the rock covered with straw
Slope of Sage Expensive blue fox seats in her Cadillac
Old hag rang Stole an arm around her waist, then a smack
Pent-up feelings dry nicely before guffaw
Tin box clattering See-Saw
Perfectly served silver toast in a stack
Impetuous fellow strength of character Zodiac
Scorching the things wearing Azure for awe
Gnawing sorrow on her face,
her very soul’s flash
Hair slightly freckled with
gray, alabaster blue face
Griddle cakes golden black hue in the trash
Unshed tears death us too embrace
Wisk well like white of eggs in a rash
Her eyes giving way to tears paly light of grace

About the Author

Terry Brinkman has been painting for over forty five years.
He started creating Poems. Five Amazon E- Books. Poems in
Rue Scribe, Tiny Seed, jute Milieu Lit and Utah Life Magazine.
Snapdragon Journal, Poets Choice, In Parentheses, Adelaide
Magazine, UN/Tethered Anthology and the Writing Disorder.

160

NEON
MARMALADE

by Alex Hand

A stained glass imagining Less to suit myself

From the third floor the I talk quieter as the world gets louder;
treetops are filigree fine, I read more judiciously as what’s in print
emergent tendrils nod frantic nervousness becomes its own unmourned funeral.
in the ethereal breath of a gossamer breeze. I listen more acutely but remember less
Lace leaves play like piano fingers and bring it all together in a structuralist
caught by ripples from whipish curlicue. mind map of what I see as valuable to me.

The street lights glare a little more furiously Neon Marmalade
as the ashen sky becomes leaden, stygian,
doorways swell in deepening shadow. Having breakfast on the patio, eastern sun;
With a nativity calendar of yellow windows the jar of homemade marmalade lights up,
as a five-minute winter hovers broodingly. neither quite rubiginous nor pure aurulent,
translucent aurora with gilded strips of peel.
Stained glass windows in the clerestories The morning sun slowly warms my right cheek,
of Norman or gothic cathedrals while all else in comparison is clichéd dull
hold the devotee or casual onlooker absorbed. except the savoured, not so innocent thought
A glazier with a cathedralic brief of others in commute and frantic rush to work.
sweats his soul into his magnum-opus.

But here from this vantage point, I see
a secular masterpiece in the making.
Man-made environment and nature synergetic
and by the chemistry of light and shade
I am simply mesmerised, enraptured.

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About the Author

Alex Hand is a Brisbane-based writer, Queensland. He has had two books of poetry published;
‘Looking South’ and ‘The Hand Signals’. In his poetry Alex tends towards the satirical but at
the same time much of his work has a slight romanticism to it. Alex writes poetry, essays,
creative non-fiction articles, short stories and is currently working on his first novel.

162

POPULATION
DENSITY

by Gary Beck

Decay of Democracy Summons For Life

The political charade Unnatural deposits
in divided America of toxic material
becomes tenser daily undegradable,
as issues, agendas, ambitions plastics strangling the ocean,
rasp the public well-being waste of every kind
trying to survive polluting the air, earth,
an irresponsible President, leaders too ignorant
who tells the people to recognize the danger
‘there are good people on a fragile planet
on each side’ that sustains life.
when nazis and radicals Miracle? Coincidence?
fight each other As we need a wake-up call
for extremist views, to preserve the future.
instead of stopping them.

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Population Density Adelaide Literary Magazine

When I was young Glum Picture
I traveled many roads
in my land, foreign lands, Wherever I go
all different, the people of my land
some close to nature. do not look happy.
Now I’ve become citified Fortunately,
confined to concrete, not all of them,
familiar with subways, but so many,
not where forests grow. I did not know
Trapped in urban maze misery possessed so many.
in a land grown foreign Even mothers with children
I no longer know do not look glad,
where I belong. at least while outside,
making me fear
for the well-being of the nation.

About the Author

Gary Beck has spent most of his adult life as a theater director and worked as an art dealer
when he couldn’t earn a living in the theater. He has also been a tennis pro, a ditch digger and
a salvage diver. His original plays and translations of Moliere, Aristophanes and Sophocles
have been produced Off Broadway. His poetry, fiction and essays have appeared in hundreds
of literary magazines and his published books include 26 poetry collections, 10 novels, 3 short
story collections, 1 collection of essays and 1 collection of one-act plays. Published poetry
books include: Dawn in Cities, Assault on Nature, Songs of a Clerk, Civilized Ways, Displays,
Perceptions, Fault Lines, Tremors, Perturbations, Rude Awakenings, The Remission of Order,
Contusions and Desperate Seeker (Winter Goose Publishing. Forthcoming: Learning Curve
and Ignition Point). Earth Links, Too Harsh For Pastels, Severance and Redemption Value
(Cyberwit Publishing. Forthcoming: Fractional Disorder). His novels include a series ‘Stand to
Arms, Marines’: Call to Valor, Crumbling Ramparts and Raise High the Walls (Gnome on Pig
Productions) and Extreme Change (Winter Goose Publishing). Wavelength will be published
by Cyberwit Publishing. His short story collections include: A Glimpse of Youth (Sweatshoppe
Publications). Now I Accuse and other stories (Winter Goose Publishing) and Dogs Don’t
Send Flowers and other stories (Wordcatcher Publishing). The Republic of Dreams and other
essays (Gnome on Pig Productions). The Big Match and other one act plays (Wordcatcher
Publishing). Collected Plays of Gary Beck Volume 1 (Cyberwit Publishing. Forthcoming: Plays
of Aristophanes translated, then directed by Gary Beck). Gary lives in New York City.

164

A COLUMN OF
SMOKE

by Sally Sandler

A Column of Smoke I Dreamed the Pandemic Was Purged

ghosted west to the sea when a storm surged for days off the Mexican
and I missed my off ramp Coast and finally breached California shores
like most of the others Old Testament style and flushed our streets
who prayed to the fire gods with epic amounts of spring clean rain.
oh please, not me, In the morning epidemiologists
and I saw from a distance reported the virus was last seen
the mean residue in filmy rivers jumping the curbs in
of burnt chaparral and San Diego. Oceanographers
blistered black trees, are saying this event makes history
the carports and cribs since it seems the virus was scoured
of suburban tribes off the street as if it were grease and guttered
who fled with heads down down through storm drains and culverts,
from their choked memories beyond nursing homes and airports and
and the burnt-out ends people panic-buying toilet paper
of their west coast lives in case of sudden outbreak of indecency.
that were hidden in rivers Then the viscous infusion floated
of nameless debris. on high sea swells and coated them with
I tasted pure luck an enormous oily rainbow just before
in my chilled Chardonnay ghosting into a grave the experts are sure
and thanked god this time exists on the ocean floor. They speculate
that decades later it could be exposed
I got off scot-free. on the beach by the haunted remains
of the hotel that burned in 1885 like a
new local myth, but with the sick
mechanical smell of beach tar. They
also predict that in 2320

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Adelaide Literary Magazine

someone might point with its left frontal Gift of a Sparrow’s Nest
lobe and say: Look, just above that ribbon
of Del Mar sandstone there on the cliff, that It’s like a present found under the tree
streaked black sediment—do you see? when everyone’s sound asleep
That was the Pandemic of 2020. on Christmas Eve, and the
thrill of trespassing.
Things That Fill the Air
The rustic wrapping is full of hope,
some of my breath, some of yours a family’s intimate history written
his last breath and later hers in twisted straw and cursive grass
and sometimes fine sepia print.
a prayer on my knees for grace
if I should die before I wake There’s the urgency of architecture:
this twig here, then this one
your whispered words, a choir’s song crossed with that one
the droplets that are passed along just so, and a piece of dried leaf,

dust I touch but cannot feel the inside saved for certain grass
a rising howl that seems surreal as fine as human hair, neat and
sculpted as the mother’s breast,
our species’ late epiphany and at the center: her luminous eggs.
mahler’s tragic symphony
Here is the brief imprint of life.
corona virus, children crying The wonder of a mother bird’s
all the daylight slowly dying skills, all the timing just right,
her chicks’ complete belief
voices of divinity, a fracture in the galaxy
a mother’s plea ayúdame that their grim orange beaks
would be filled and they
in the end the love you take would persist as surely
the spreading virus that you make as mornings in May.

is equal to the distant screams
dreams that die without their wings

Ayúdame: Spanish translation: help
me. Pronounced: ah-you-da-may

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Why I’ll Never See Him Again

Because of a single juniper tree. the mirror he broke/or maybe God’s will.
Because of a 30-foot tree, and black ice. Because the full moon couldn’t conjure a spell.

Because of a blue SUV, some black ice, and Because there is always a ceiling on life
a juniper known as an Eastern red cedar. and time has revealed the number of floors.

Because he drove with his eyelids half-staff Because all our prayers had broken wings.
alone in a narrow peninsula of thought. Because now his barefoot soul is gone

Because maybe far from the ice and the tree without keys or cell phone, wallet or watch—
a butterfly beat its gossamer wings and but can he still hear me calling his name?

determined the course of his speeding car. Because of the unyielding trunk of a juniper
Because of a twist of fate/the unnamed/ tree and a guillotine of ice.

About the Author

Sally Sandler is a graduate of the University of Michigan. She
is a published poet who has lived in San Diego for almost fifty
years and is a wife, mother, grandmother and dog lover. Her
writing has been published in numerous literary journals in the
United States and abroad, and she has multiple books available
on Amazon.com In Spring 2020, she is caught with one foot in a
known world and one in the midst of a global pandemic. A new
threat is added to the losses she writes about that accompany
her aging Baby Boomer generation and their concerns for life
on a fragile planet. She questions what will become history,
and what we will carry forward for our grandchildren.

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WOW

by Boris Kokotov

A trap In the Garden

I have mixed feelings about In the Chihuly Garden
what happened that day -- bees pollinate flowers
following her out of curiosity, ignoring exhibits
staying in her place for no reason except...
while visitors
Pity. Is it the right word? photograph glasswork
paying no heed to bees.
A table, a chair, a bed, a single window.
Several old mugs and plates on the table. Bees belong to flowers,
But no food, no signs of cooking. art belongs to indoors.
tourists belong to their cameras.
A tiny room, almost claustrophobic.
But what about you and me?
Barefoot, in a loose skirt, Do we “belong together”
she stood near the window, for a long time. as a popular song suggests?
Motionless like a doll.
Or shall we dismiss the lyrics,
That what she seemed to be -- a doll. and stick to the facts?

Then she looked at me over her shoulder --
it was a surrender in her gaze
but also contempt.

A picture above the bed -- abstract, cold.

I went to the door: all this was staged,
it was a poorly disguised trap!
“Why?” she cried, “What’s wrong?”

I had nothing to say.

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wow a spark

give me freedom or give me something he said now
they gave him something and when you become
something set him free an epitome of absence
an one-way trip to the past
what is the purpose of living fast he asked there is no need
and they said there is no purpose in anything to keep the lid on ruined memories
it’s time to let out a melody
but introduced him to the mystical experience a smile a confession
of crossing the finish line in one fluid motion
torpid for many years
the last word forming in the corner my love turned into
of his underdeveloped mouth was the ritual of reading old letters
listening to distant voices
wow this has nothing to do
with the blind date of your death
it’s just a song
just a spark of winning solitude

About the Author

Boris Kokotov was born in Moscow. He writes poems and
short stories. He is the author of several poetry collections.
His original work and translations to English have appeared
in Adelaide, Blackbird, Chiron Review, Constellations, Poet
Lore, and Washington Square Review, among others. He
lives in Baltimore.

169



INTERVIEW



EDWARD DANIEL
HUNT

Author of PENANCE

Edward Daniel Hunt’s short stories have appeared in the Scarlett Leaf Review, Down in the
Dirt Magazine and Adelaide Literary Magazine. “Hit Men Have Feelings Too” was named a
finalist in Adelaide Magazine’s 2018 Literary Award Contest for Best Short Story. He lives in
Old Orchard Beach, Maine, within walking distance of the ocean.

1. T ell us a bit about yourself – something that
we will not find in the official author’s bio?

I come from a family of writers and would be writers. Even though I have an undergraduate
degree and a graduate degree I have never shown much interest in school. The only thing I
seemed to do well in, and showed interest in, was writing. I remember in the fourth grade
my friend Marc and I trying to write a Hardy Boy Mystery rip off, only substituting our own
names. By the time I got to college I began to get serious about writing, especially after a
college professor took an interest and encouraged me do something with it. I attempted to
get some short stories published throughout my twenties and thirties. I also wrote a novel
that my poor mother, may she rest in peace, who was always supportive of my writing, typed
up on her Royal Typewriter. After rereading it several times I decided it was too depressing
and I never bothered to seek publication. Widowed young with kids to raise, I used that as
an excuse to stop writing. I always said I would get back to it but didn’t until my sixties. The
untimely death of one of my favorite authors, Kent Haruf, at the age of 71, prompted me to
start writing again. I bought a new computer within a week or two of his passing and have
been writing ever since.

2.  Do you remember what was your first story
(article, essay, or poem) about and when did you write it?

My first published article was work related about the negative impact of consuming too
much salt. This appeared in the Montachusetts Review, which I believed was published on a

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quarterly basis by a local HMO. I was not a clinician so I basically quoted from various other
findings and tried to spice it up [pun intended] with interesting side bars of little known
facts; such as where the saying “worth his salt” came from. [The Romans used to pay their
soldiers with salt which was of some value in those days.] I also had my first review from an
owner of a local potato chip company who accused me of being biased.

3. What is the title of your latest book and what inspired it?

Penance is the title of my recently released novel published by Adelaide Books. It was
loosely based on a homicide I heard about decades ago. The characters in the book are
fictional but comprised of many different people I have known over the years. Much like
life, there are no black and white characters. All are shades of gray. My favorite character
is Tony Gazzo, the highly efficient, sociopathic, possibly autistic hit man and right hand to
a Boston crime boss. While you get to see him at his worse, you also get see him when he
seems to be kind and caring. The story. featuring retired Boston homicide detective John
Gilfillan, is about the efforts to find Lori Doyle who ten years ago at the age of sixteen wit-
nessed a homicide that went unsolved, committed by her then boyfriend, now ex-husband.
Today, Lori has established a new life for herself and her young daughter, living in Maine
under alias. She has also met someone and is beginning to think she has a chance for a
better life. Unbeknownst to her, some are seeking her out to do her harm and some to do
her good. If you like a story with multiple homicides, love stories, dysfunctional families
and can believe that one last homicide can make for a happy ending, Penance is definitely
for you.

4.  How long did it take you to write your latest work and how
fast do you write (how many words daily)?

It seemed like forever but it was actually about three years. I am my worst critic and I can
read and reread something I just got done writing and continue to make minor changes. I am
not disciplined enough to write a certain number of words a day. Sometimes more, some-
times less. I usually go back and read what I wrote the day before, editing as I go and then
just keep going. Some days it flows and some days it doesn’t. I am a true “Pantser” meaning
I really am not sure where the book is going and often wind up somewhere that’s even a
surprise to me. I always have a rough idea of the plot in my head and sort of, kind of how
it’s going to end but not exactly. An example of this is I originally had the book ending with
Gilfillan, the detective, but decided that it made for a stronger ending to end with Lori. Some
characters took on a much more expanded role such as Tony Gazzo, after being introduced.
Tony was a minor player but I felt the readers would appreciate someone like him if they got
to know his background and could see a different side of him.

5. Do you have any unusual writing habits?

I often write with the television turned on to the local and national news. I write better in the
morning than later in the day, although that doesn’t seem to stop me from trying.

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6. I s writing the only form of artistic expression that you utilize, or
is there more to your creativity than just writing?

I love music but have no talent. Rock, blues even some country. I sometimes think I should
try my hand at lyrics.

7. Authors and books that have influenced your writings?

Oh, there are lots of authors and books that have influenced me since I was in grade school.
Before being old enough to go to school, I can remember taking out children books on our
weekly trip to the library.. In grade school my taste ran to the Hardy Boys and even my sis-
ter’s Nancy Drew Mysteries. I got hooked on Horatio Alger’s stories early on after discovering
my grandfather still had some. Those books had titles like Sam’s Chance or Sink or Swim or
Pluck and Luck and all had similar themes about young boys who through hard work and
perseverance becoming successful. Most of these books were written in the eighteen hun-
dreds. As I got older I started reading whatever was lying around the house; mostly myster-
ies like Perry Mason or authors like Agatha Christie and some popular fiction of the fifties
and early sixties from authors like Harold Robbins. I particularly liked Robbin’s “A Stone for
Danny Fisher.” This was made into a pretty bad Elvis Pressley movie later.

As an adult, some of my Favorite authors that may have had some impact on my writing
would have to include the late Kent Haruf [Eventide, Our Souls at Night], Richard Russo,
[Nobody’s Fool, Empire Falls] and Dennis Lehane, [Mystic River, The Drop}. All three of these
author’s characters standout and are truly memorable. I like and enjoy many other authors
but I don’t know if they have truly influenced my writing.

8.  What are you working on right now?
Anything new cooking in the wordsmith’s kitchen?

I am about half-way through my second novel 96 Tears, the second in the Gilfillan detective
series. In 96 Tears, Raymond Carlson is recently released from prison after serving more than
twenty-five years for attempting to kill his pregnant wife and for actually killing his five year
old son, by burning down their home, with them in it.

Diane, now his ex-wife, is convinced he is going to do everything possible to finish what
he started. As a recovering alcoholic with some mental health issues of her own, she has had
little or no contact with her daughter, Katie. Now, with no one else to turn to, she reaches out
to her daughter for help. Since the authorities don’t seem overly concerned, they decide to
seek the assistance of retired Boston homicide detective: John Gilfillan.

An expanded chapter from “96 Tears”, titled “Pieces of the Puzzle” was named a finalist
in Adelaide Literary Magazine’s 2019 Best Short Story Contest.

9. D id you ever think about the profile of your readers?
What do you think – who reads and who should read your books?

I have been told by a marketing consultant who has read my book that she believes that
my reader’s profile is slightly more female than male, most likely older, 40 years plus and

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educated. I tend to agree with her although I think there is something in Penance for ev-
eryone.

10. Do you have any advice for new writers/authors?
Don’t give up. If you have some talent, you will get published. Keep trying to find a home
for your writing. Where have similar books been published? Try to publish in some of the
various magazines in print and on line, it gives you credibility. Pay attention to any feedback
they give you.

11. What is the best advice (about writing) you have ever heard?
Find your own voice and stick to it.

12.  How many books you read annually and what are you reading now?
What is your favorite literary genre?

When I am writing, my pleasure reading goes way down to maybe eight to ten books. I
have been trying to limit it to books from authors I have met and may have even have auto-
graphed their book for me. I have a stack of books next to my bed right now.

13. W hat do you deem the most relevant about your writing?
What is the most important to be remembered by readers?

I think my strength is in my characters and while my characters may be flawed, they’re real,
with some of the problems we all face on any given day.

14.  What is your opinion about the publishing industry today and
about the ways authors can best fit into the new trends?

Prior to the Pandemic, the industry seemed to be doing ok. Independent Book Stores strug-
gle but many have been able to carve out their niche by making the book buying experience
more personal and by supporting writers and sponsoring author readings and signings, etc.
We should do all we can to support them in return.

I don’t think it’s ever been easy to get published but definitely harder now. Publishers
don’t have the resources to do much editing and expect books being submitted to need very
little editing. Authors today need to utilize whatever resources they have available to produce
the most polished, ready to be published version of their book they possibly can. Those re-
sources may include critique sessions at conferences, writers groups or independent editing.
If you are fortunate to have found an agent and that agent knows her stuff, she should be
able to tell you what is selling and what is not and what is trending. If as an author you are
trying to do this on your own, professional writing associations and trade journals can be an
excellent resource of what’s trending and how we can respond to these trends.

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177

HANS TRUJILLO

Author of
NEVER PLAY WITH DEATH

1. Te ll us a bit about yourself – something that
we will not find in the official author’s bio?

I grew up in a little town in Colombia called Ibagué, and even though isn’t a coffee town, it
is very close to Colombia’s coffee region, that made me familiar with the coffee culture. I
became an avid reader of classic novels at a very young age thanks to my dad, who used to
share one story after another in the table, always at lunch time and he used to do it in such
an emotional, fascinating way. It was like he was telling us about a movie or a tv show, he
was very good at it.

That made me rush to my dad’s book stand to pick the novel he was talking about in the
table, and that was how I got hooked. So, when I was 10, while my friends were reading
comics, I was devouring The Iliad, The Odyssey, The Picture of Dorian Gray, The count of
Montecristo and 100 years of solitude.

A fun fact about my youthhood is that I started practicing Target Shooting and I became
national champion in “Moving Target Shooting” an Olympic discipline which in fact, gave to
Colombia its very first Olympic medal in 1972. I love that sport and I still practice it as up today.

It’s been 20 years since I moved to the US which I now consider my home. I live in Miami,
FL with my wife Paola, the most amazing woman that has ever walked on this planet. I also
have a daughter from my previous marriage called Fiorella, a 14 years old ice-skater, cello
player and manga illustrator who is my inspiration and the reason I want to be a better man
every day.

2.  Do you remember what was your first story
(article, essay, or poem) about and when did you write it?

My very first writing work was when I was 13 years old. My Spanish teacher separated the
class in groups of 4 students and gave us the assignment to come up with some sort of theat-
rical performance, to be played in the classroom. I decided to make a very short adaptation of
“The ILiad”. The teacher loved it so much that immediately asked me to adapt the whole story,
using almost 30 students as actors in order to present the play in front of the entire school.

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I took the task very seriously and I wrote the whole script of The ILiad, without having
any knowledge about writing scripts at all. I simply figured out how to write the scene de-
scriptions and dialogs of every character, as I was directing the whole play by myself. All my
classmates were excited about it and turned very creative which it helped a lot. I remember
that we even built a giant horse out of cardboard boxes and designed all the wardrobe
and scenery. Obviously, I made sure to reserve the role of “Achilles” to myself since he was
my favorite character in Homer’s poem. The play was a big success, with plenty of funny
situations that happened during the performance, making it an unforgettable experience
of my pre-adolescence that I treasure since then. (so bad that we didn’t have smartphones
in 1982)

3. What is the title of your latest book and what inspired it?

“Never Play with Death” is the title of my latest book, and it is inspired by the amazing sto-
ries told by my grandfather who was a great storyteller. He used to gather all his grandsons
together to tell us amazing stories that happened to him during his youthhood in the little
coffee town embedded in Colombian’s mountains where he grew up. Part of his stories were
truth; part were fantasy but all of them were greatly entertaining. My father who inheriter-
ied the same storytelling skills of my grandpa, continued to nurture each story, as he infused
his own fantasy to them, making them bigger and more exciting.

One story in particular was the one that caught my attention from the beginning. It was
the story of the man who brought the amazing art of photography to my grandpa’s town in
the late 40’s, and how that event changed the fate of the town and its inhabitants forever.
Every time that I heard that story, either from my grandpa or my dad, I always imagined it
as a movie. I always used to thought “that story would be great for a movie” and that idea
remained on the back of my head for several years, until one day, when I heard the calling I
guess, and when I had the right set of tools and knowledge, I sat down and wrote it.

4. H ow long did it take you to write your latest work and how
fast do you write (how many words daily)?

It took me exactly one year to write the whole novel. I’m not quite a fast writer, I like to
take my time and I rewrite a lot. Also, it doesn’t help that I don’t make a living out of writing
books; I would love to though but right now isn’t the case. I have a very demanding and
time-consuming job, so I have to be very disciplined and time-efficient when I write. Usually,
when I’m in “writing mode” I create a habit to write very early in the morning every day.
Then, I review/rewrite at night. When I’m motivated and focused enough, I could write up
to 1,000 words per day.

5. Do you have any unusual writing habits?

Well, I don’t know how unusual this habit could be, maybe it’s very common among writers
but I have to be in complete silence when writing. So, you will never see me writing at a
Starbucks for instance.

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Also, I have to program my brain to write. In other words, if I know that I only have a
20-minute window to write I prefer not to do so. When I sit down to write, I have to set up
myself for at least one hour without any interruptions. If it’s more than an hour even better.
I just can’t speed writing.

6.  Is writing the only form of artistic expression that you utilize, or
is there more to your creativity than just writing?

I work as a creative at an advertising agency, so I do creativity for a living. Every single
day I have to come up with a new idea or concept to catch people’s attention about a
product or service. It’s an exciting yet demanding job that requires to keep your mind and
all your senses open, capturing as much information as possible about what’s happening
out there.

Due to my profession, I’ve been exposed to many creative disciplines that have taught
me different things throughout my career; specially in the audiovisual production field.
I’ve used that knowledge to create different audiovisual pieces, from tv commercials to
music videos for well known artists. I’ve also written and directed two short films and
collaborated in the writing of a long format script. And I wrote the script adaptation of my
latest novel “Never Play with Death” which is currently under review in different produc-
tion houses and studios.

7 Authors and books that have influenced your writings?

The biggest influencer in my writing is our Nobel prize Gabriel García Marquez. His narra-
tive, creativity and characters development has greatly impacted my writing style. I’ve read
almost all of his novels and I simply love his magical realism, which is definitely my favorite
genre. I do believe magical realism will always be present somehow in my work.

About the books that have influenced me the most, I must say that The ILiad obviously,
The Odyssey, 100 years of solitude, The Canterville Ghost, Perfume: The story of a murderer,
The Raven, Hopscotch (Rayuela) and The Immortal. Just to name a few.

8.  What are you working on right now?
Anything new cooking in the wordsmith’s kitchen?

Yes, I’m working on a couple of projects right now. I just signed a contract with Fonolibro, an
audiobook production/distribution house to write a compilation of 12 short stories that will
be released as audiobooks. That project will be ready before the year ends.

I’m also setting up what it will be my second fictional novel, which I’m planning to start
writing this fall. Lastly, my daughter and I are working on a script for an animated film. This
is a very cool project not only because of my collaborator, but also because of the story itself.
It’s an original tale about the things that only could happen in my native Colombia. Let’s see
how it goes but I’m very excited about it.

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9. D id you ever think about the profile of your readers?
What do you think – who reads and who should read your books?

To be honest, I didn’t write my first novel with a specific reader profile in mind. I just wanted
to tell a story that I had very clear in my head and I just sat down and let it flow. Once I fin-
ished it, I thought that my primary target would be Colombian readers, but soon I realized
that the story had a universal insight that was suitable for every single person that was look-
ing for just a good, easy-to-read, entertaining story.

Nevertheless, I got a lot of learnings about my first experience and now, for the new proj-
ects that I’m developing I’m taking in consideration the profile of the readers I want to tackle.
I would say that my target is young readers 18+ that love fictional tales.

10. Do you have any advice for new writers/authors?

Even though my experience is limited since I’ve published just one novel so far, I truly believe
that the art of writing comprises of 50% talent, and 50% commitment. You have to treat your
writing as a project, that means you should set up certain hours to write daily and commit to
it. Discipline is key. Then, you have to self-impose a deadline, do research, rewrite, rewrite
and rewrite again. Writing for me is a lifestyle, you must take it with you whenever you go
and commit with your project until it sees the light.

If you seat down one entire Sunday for ten hours, and then you drop the project only to
retake it two months later, most likely that book will never be finished. So, my first advice for
new writers is: “Treat your upcoming book as a project, not as a hobby”.

When I was writing Never Play with Death I self-imposed daily writing hours. From 6am
to 8:30am every day. Then I used to take one hour at night to review what I’ve written in the
morning. Sometimes I just wasn’t inspired to write at all, but I sat down anyways, and I used
that time to do research, or do brainstorming about next chapters. So, here’s my second
advice: “You don’t always need to write, in order to do writing”

11. What is the best advice (about writing) you have ever heard?

The best advice I’ve heard probably came from my agent and dear friend Amanda Garay,
when we were discussing about how to make my story less local and more universal for
the publishing companies. She told me something that she heard from a Russian literature
professor who said: “If you want your story to be universal, start by telling the story of your
town”.

12. H ow many books you read annually and what are you
reading now? What is your favorite literary genre?

I usually read up to three books per year, along with several short stories, scripts and other
readings. Right now, I’m reading “The Scandal of the Century” from Gabriel Garcia Marquez,
a compilation of articles and columns he wrote during his years as journalist; his very true
passion. Even though isn’t fiction, it’s a true reader’s delight.

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My favorite literary genre is magical realism and fiction. I love to read creative, intriguing,
original stories. You will never see me reading anything else.

13.  What do you deem the most relevant about your writing?
What is the most important to be remembered by readers?

I want my readers remember my books for the cleverness of the stories, the unexpected
twists and most of all, for the memorable characters they may find in them. My ultimate
goal will always be to surprise the reader at some point, and give them something in either a
character, a moment or a twist that stays with them for a long time after they finish the book.

14. What has been the greatest satisfaction that writing a book has given you?

For me, the biggest satisfaction has been realizing how many lives you can impact with your
work. In my case it’s been amazing. Every single person that has read my book has been
impacted by it one way or the other. Some with the story, others with certain characters, but
every person that I know that has read the novel, have had a very positive experience and
that’s very rewarding.

You know, something very cool happened to me when I launched the Spanish version of
the book. My relatives, friends, co-workers and acquaintances started looking at me differ-
ently. Suddenly they all get a different impression of you. It’s like if becoming a published
author gives you certain status that you didn’t have.

Another satisfaction is when you see that you inspire more friends to write. I would say
more than 3 friends have started some writing projects just because they saw my book pub-
lished. And I’m trying to help them with their projects as much as I can because somehow, I
feel that I provoked it, and I want their books to see the light too.

Lastly, it’s very satisfying when your book wins at a festival. Never Play with Death won
the “Excellence Award” in the Stroud Arts Book Festival in New Orleans. Then, the Spanish
version won “Best First Book” at the International Latino Book Awards in Los Angeles. Both
awards filled me with joy because it’s not your family member or your friend who tells you
that the book is good; It’s a jury that doesn’t know you at all and is judging many works like
yours. That’s where you realize that you should have done something right.

15.  What is your opinion about the publishing industry today and
about the ways authors can best fit into the new trends?

For me the publishing industry is the same as how it has always been, only now there’s new
channels of distribution. But at the end of the day if a book is good there will always be
someone who wants to publish it. I think if Mary Shelley, Oscar Wilde or Jorge Luis Borges
lived today, they would still find a way to publish their work.

For me, nowadays authors have new options to publish their books, and they don’t have
to stick with the conventional publishing company. But that also brings new challenges like
self-promoting and other nuances. Amazon changed the industry for good and everybody has
had to adapt. But again, if the story is good, sooner or later it will be discovered.

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183

HELEN HAGEMANN

Author of
THE LAST ASBESTOS TOWN

1. Tell us a bit about yourself – something that we will not find in the official author’s bio?
I discovered creative writing while studying as a mature-age student at university. I quickly
discovered after enrolling in an English Major that there was an opportunity to reach aca-
demic achievement by writing just a few lines of “verse”. So, in 1994, there was this type
of infusion, combustion, a sort of chemical reaction that took place in my head. I thought,
‘what an easy way to get through university by writing a few lines of poetry’. However, little
by little, I noticed that the poetry required a lot of work, so too the many English essays: Lit-
erary Studies 1 & 2, Literary Theory, Jung and Freud, Contemporary Critical Practice, Semiot-
ics, not to mention Semantics. What? My mind boggled with all that confusion, my thoughts
raced with all that study, last minute swatting, the late hours, no sleep, hubby grumbling
about his tea not cooked on time, asking things like ‘where was she?’ I was 47 and loved
every minute of it. This was amazing since my last high school report said I’d make a good
librarian. Librarian!

2. D o you remember what was your first story
(article, essay, or poem) about and when did you write it?

I had my first poem titled “Life in Albania” published in the university’s broadsheet. It was
1996 and a publication meant marks towards your writing unit. As budding writers we used
to meet every Friday at “Lunchlines” in one of the lecture theatres and the broadsheet pub-
lication came last with the writer reading to the audience. It was the most nerve-wracking
thing at the time and I didn’t even know any Albanians.

3. What is the title of your latest book and what inspired it?
The Last Asbestos Town is now published by Adelaide Books. I had a dream that was so crisp
and clear that I thought it would make a good novel. At the time our Prime Minister Tony
Abbott had brought in Australia’s Border Force to keep out Asylum Seekers. I thought at the
time what if fascism took over in our country? How horrible life would be. So I mixed the
dream (which is in the novel) with the idea of an Asbestos Task Force enforcing the removal

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of all known asbestos. I had also read a novel by Honey Brown titled Red Queen about a
futuristic killer virus. Her book inspired me to speculate on the “what if?”

4. H ow long did it take you to write your latest work and how
fast do you write (how many words daily)?

It has taken me 5 to 6 years with many re-writes and help from my writing critique group. I’m
not a fast writer, but I have learnt that getting four to five pages ready of your novel for other
writers to comment on forces you to get on with the project. Then there’s the homework,
taking on board whether you will edit, change your initial idea or simply pass. A green pen is
handy to tick or cross out their written suggestions.

5. Do you have any unusual writing habits?

I don’t stay in the one place and usually move around the house to different locations. I now have
a nice outdoor setting that I call “The Office”. It’s more inspiring outdoors where you can look up
at the sky, listen to the birds, talk to the cat, admire your garden, the herbs, the newly planted
succulents and think about a four dimensional world that you need to create in your writing.

6. I s writing the only form of artistic expression that you utilize, or
is there more to your creativity than just writing?

I like photography and although I’m an amateur ‘point & shoot’ person on my Sony Cyber-
shot, I spend a few hours uploading pictures to Instagram and on my blog. I like to pho-
to-shop out the bad bits!

7. Authors and books that have influenced your writings?

When I first started writing poetry, I loved the Beat Poets. I will never forget Jack Kerouac’s
On the Road, his dictum “Go thou across the ground; go moan for man; go moan, go groan,
go groan alone , go roll your bones, alone.” I love American poets, Mary Oliver, Sharon Olds,
Jane Hirshfield, Ted Kooser and Billy Collins. When it comes to How-to books, Writing down
the Bones by Natalie Goldberg has influenced me to write what I know and the power of
detail. Others in individual ways have inspired me. Peter Carey’s The Tax Inspector & Oscar
& Lucinda, Margaret Attwood’s Alias Grace, Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses, No
Country for Old Men & The Road, Annie Proulx’s The Shipping News and Brokeback Mountain,
Donna Tartt’s The Secret History, The Little Friend, and The Goldfinch, to name a few. These
are the masters who have “kept me interested.”

8. What are you working on right now? Anything new cooking in the wordsmith’s kitchen?

I have finished another novel titled The Ozone Café about three separate owners and the
café’s demise through council corruption; however, it till needs polishing. From time to time
I work on a collection of prose poetry that I like sharing on my blog, on my poetry Instagram
and submit to journals. I’ve started a new novel that will include widowhood, infidelity, on-
line dating, a stalker, and a crime. No title as yet.

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9.  Did you ever think about the profile of your readers?
What do you think – who reads and who should read your books?

I will only think about readers in terms of not boring them. The asbestos novel has been
well received and readers are telling me that it’s not something they usually read, but like it!

10. Do you have any advice for new writers/authors?
For any new writer, I suggest that they join a writers group or a critiquing group. It is import-
ant to have other eyes on your work. Your peers see the typos, the mistakes and may even
suggest better ideas than you first thought. If that’s not possible, join an online writing group
or class that provides feedback. And don’t be too precious about your work; you will get bet-
ter over time. When it comes to the genre you are writing, and we have all heard this before,
read, read, read that particular genre. That way you can gauge what has come before. For
newly published authors, don’t stop at one book, keep going!

11. What is the best advice (about writing) you have ever heard?
There is no such thing as writer’s block, only a lack of time to focus on your writing. I also like
Jack Kerouac’s idea – first thought, best thought. I practice this in my prose poetry.

Natalie Goldberg in Writing down the Bones states, “We are important and our lives are
important; magnificent really and the details are worthy to be recorded. This is how writers
must think; this is how we must sit down with pen in hand. We were here, we are human
beings; this is how we lived. Let it be known the earth passed before us. Our details are
important.”

12. H ow many books do you read annually and what are you
reading now? What is your favorite literary genre?

I read about 20-25 books a year, although lately I have moved over to audio books. They
are great for the busy writer. I will read almost any genre that shows favorable reviews on
Goodreads and any other suggestions by writers/friends. However, I still love reading poetry
and it’s always that compression of language that inspires and influences me.

14.  What do you deem the most relevant about your writing?
What is the most important to be remembered by readers?

I’m not sure although I do steer away from clichés, hackneyed phrases, and try to make my
writing fresh. Some readers have commented that my prose writing is poetic. As a published
novelist, now going into the future, I’m hoping that my work doesn’t send them off to sleep!

15.  What is your opinion about the publishing industry today and
about the ways authors can best fit into the new trends?

If it wasn’t for Adelaide Books I don’t think my novel would have ever been published in
Australia. A major leap of faith for an unknown Aussie writer is huge! It seems to me that

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independent publishers in America are more progressive and are very supportive of new
work and new voices. In Australia, there are no new trends, only unattainable awards/prizes.
Publishing by the majors is very subjective, either you have to be published in that genre
first, have been an award winner, have an agent, jump through a series of hoops, send a
sample to their Manuscript Monday or to their Friday Pitch, and never hear back. And since
Covid-19, most are no longer taking unsolicited manuscripts. Therefore I say, go America! I
have the utmost gratitude and pride for your Editor-in-Chief Stevan Nikolic and the crew -
you are awesome!

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TERRY BOYKIE

Author of
THE FORTHCOMING JILT

1. Tell us a bit about yourself – something that we will not find in the official author’s bio?
In my previous life, I taught science at a high-school science in northern New Jersey for four
years. My first day on the job, I got a headache. My last day on the job the headache went
away and I haven’t had one since. I am very much a loner and a recluse. Those traits led me
to to rock skipping and bird-watching. I’m good at identifying birds in the forest, just not
great. I’ll take on any and all skippers at the Brickyard Pond in Whippany, NJ. I guess the
items that have most led me here are (1) baseball and (2) Patches, my dog. I spent my first
18 years hitting a baseball and when I realized I wasn’t good enough, I lived in a funk into
my 30s. I guess I will never get past Patches and the day he died at 13+ years. That day was
57 years ago and I am still mourning. Whenever I get the urge to write I recall baseball and
Patches. Somehow my thoughts of the past are evenly split. With a funny remembrance, the
result is a light and lively event. A sad recollection leads me to a gloomy anecdote. I work a
lot to get more humor flowing within me.

2.  Do you remember what was your first story
(article, essay, or poem) about and when did you write it?

That’s easy. About 50 years ago, my feet went numb and they still are. After 30 years, the
MDs agreed I had idiopathic sensory neuropathy. That’s another way of saying, “The pa-
tient’s feet are numb and American medicine doesn’t know why.” So, my shrink said I should
ignore my feet and write about what I know. My degrees are in biology and geology but an
examination of and research into some aspect of science seemed to arduous for me; so I
veered away from non- fiction question. That led me to fiction, fiction in search of a genre.
I am still searching. I wrote my first prose-poem in 2012, title Near Rubber Road. It’s a de-
scriptive account of the Brickyard Pond on a Friday night in November in the early 60s.

3. What is the title of your latest book and what inspired it?
The Forthcoming Jilt describes, in a non-chronological narrative, the life and times of Timo-
thy Sailor Bratkowski, the self-anointed foremost leader of the baby-boom generation. Tim is

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clearly delusional but he is not . His exploits with their inevitable consequences demonstrate
how he has not achieved much of anything except to antagonize his friends and families
from infancy to today. Tim infuriates women most of all. For the men who might read it, the
narrative depicts everyday miseries up to the ultimate failures of manhood. Women will find
the story line a metaphor for their own lives as wives and mothers. Younger individuals will
find more reasons to say, “OK, Boomer.”

4. H ow long did it take you to write your latest work and how
fast do you write (how many words daily)?

I began writing TFJ in 2016 and finished this morning. I know, I must have given Adelaide
Books editors conniptions for the shear numbers of final, final drafts I sent to them. I suffer
every word when I write. The previous sentence alone took me 3 minutes too write and I am
sure I will revise it several more times before I am satisfied. How many words daily? The an-
swer is more like, how many words do I write daily that satisfy me. Not many I’m sad to say.
Somehow, though, it all comes together and the finished product is filled with rich words,
intriguing sentences, good characters, and a realistic story.

5. Do you have any unusual writing habits?

My writing style is all over the map. As a wanderer with a capacity to recall many items
large and small, I save those recollections until I feel it’s time take a crack at that mem-
ory. I have hundreds of topics on the queue that have not, as yet, seen the light of day
flickering in my mind. For some unknown reason, I am most satisfied with free verse that
conveys a musical beat. Of course that ability leads me to old-fashioned rhyming schemes.
In The Forthcoming Jilt, I rhyme ‘ Sabbath’ with ‘Rabbit’ which will offend literary purists
and Christians in equal measures. I appreciate poems that affirm poetic devices like sim-
ile, metaphor, alliteration, assonance, onomatopoeia, and all the magical ways to entice
readers. Lastly, much of my prose-poetry keeps the plot moving forward which interferes
with a more descriptive style. One thing I can say with confidence is my poems are never
boring.

6. I s writing the only form of artistic expression that you utilize, or
is there more to your creativity than just writing?

I have no other artistic expression, except at being mildly irksome to colleagues and a com-
plete as***le to reactionaries across the nation.

7. Authors and books that have influenced your writings?

<I Write Like> is a website that tells me what person I most emulate in words and style. I’m
sure the site is sneered at by academicians and commentators, but I think its a morale boost-
er when a poem or prose-piece emulates James Joyce,, Kurt Vonnegut, David Foster Wal-
lace Vladimir Nabokov, Ernest Hemingway. I also have some pieces that supposedly emulate
Mary Shelley Margaret Atwood, Anne Rice, Alice Munro. That makes me think that I am not

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a mass of testosterone perambulating into a through my gray matter. In all, I was told I wrote
poetry by New Jersey’s own William Carlos Williams. That was exciting to hear. Others have
said, I write like Bruce Springsteen. That is an honor.

8.  What are you working on right now?
Anything new cooking in the wordsmith’s kitchen?

I have a final first draft, titled Boatload of Godless Apples that should be ready for someone
to read in the next three years. I haven’t suffered enough sentences yet.

9. D id you ever think about the profile of your readers?
What do you think – who reads and who should read your books?

My audience are friends from elementary school who reconnected with me over the past
decade, individuals who enjoyed my self-published book, Autumn for a Day-old Toad. My
books can be disturbing to read on first blush. Fortunately, The Forthcoming Jilt is funny
that makes it easier reading for those used to tamer fare, My latest should be read by
Baby Boomers, male and female. It will show to men and women have foolish our gener-
ation is.

Upon reading TFJ, Generation Xers and Millennials will get a better understanding of
what makes these old people click. It would be better if children did not use this book to
learn bigger words.

10. Do you have any advice for new writers/authors?
Do not write like I do, sentence by sentence. The story line and the characters are so much
more important than what color ‘blue is the sky today. Don’t lose the story and the theme
you are trying unscramble Once you forget your point-of-view, it might not be there when
you want to find it again.

Also, Proofreading is a dying art. You can’t believe how many supposed proofreaders I
engaged before sending the book on to Adelaide. Please, read, re-read, and re-read it more.
So much less agony that way.

11. What is the best advice (about writing) you have ever heard?
“Write what you know. It’s more fun that way”

12.  How many books you read annually and what are you
reading now? What is your favorite literary genre?

I read about 25 books per year. And all sorts websites. I go through periods of interest in one
genre then another. I am currently reading Human Errors by Nathan Lents. I have a Master’s
degree in Geology, so books that deal with the Earth in a stratigraphic, paleontological, and
anthropological sense, I’m gonna read it first hand.

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13. W hat do you deem the most relevant about your writing? What

is the most important to be remembered by readers?
Illumination of the mind. That is what The Forthcoming Jilt will convey to the reader for a
long, long time. When I go to see Bruce Springsteen in concert, (199 times so far) it takes me
weeks for my mind to move on to new targets. That is what I would like to offer the reader.
Sure, I will offend someone but if TFJ makes the reader think of possibilities. I have succeed-
ed at some key place in the mind.
14. W hat is your opinion about the publishing industry today and

about the ways authors can best fit into the new trends?
I am 74 years old. Writing was essential for my career in non-profits, so I would say to the
publishing industry that the country has a trainload of baby boomers who continue to read
the ‘old-fashioned’ way to gain insight and direction in books that emphasize the signifi-
cance of world events that have transformed America’s population from 1946 up to right
now. I am certain that older Americans want to read about people, real or imagined, who
have lived through these fast-moving and reckless times. TV and the Internet need quality
scripts with an edge, so it will be absolutely vital for the communications industry to inspire
those with a story to tell to come on board.

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