Alrighty. I said that I’d review a journal per week and already I’ve started outsourcing on the second week (thank you Sam Cooney for your thoughtful words on Cutwater). It’d be poor form to outsource again on the third week, so I’m going to review Visible Ink’s latest publication, Lost and Found.
I met half of the 2009 Vis Ink crew, Allison Browning and Anthony Noack, at this year’s NYWF. When Allison and Anthony spoke of their desire to start up their own literary journal once they had finished Visible Ink, I professed some scepticism. Did Melbourne need another literary journal? Seriously. It was getting crowded down here.
It has been tradition for some time for creatives to flock to Melbourne, to take advantage of the scene. The problem we now face is there’s too many of us here and not enough people amongst the public interested in what we’re all doing. We are our own audience, and since we’re all broke, we can’t sustain each other. (Chris Flynn, 14/10/09)
But after attending a couple of Read You Bastards fundraiser nights, which have become established events in their own right, and the Lost and Found launch, I wouldn’t mind if these guys go all Harvest. Unlike 1908, Lost and Found is one good-looking journal with colour art and photography gracing its covers and pages. Paper is of the recycled kind, and the the text is easy on the eye. Looks like Lost and Found knows that it’s a literary journal; it’s ‘noice’ without being overly designed.
There seems to be a couple of odd editorial decisions. Moreno Giovannoni and Simon McInerney are published twice. One might indulge in a couple of poems from the same poet, but two short stories from the same contributor seems a little excessive, especially in a journal that spans a little more than a hundred pages. I found out at the launch, however, that pieces were selected blind; it is credit to Moreno Giovannoni’s versatility that both ‘The Percheron’ and ‘Sally’ made the final cut. Simply and carefully told, ‘The Percheron’ unfolds without embellishment or trickery:
The man knows that the only way to work with a horse is to use a psychological approach, because his strength cannot match that of the horse. He normally tries to anticipate the horse’s likely behaviour and gently encourages responses consistent with the needs of the work. So what happens that day is a shock to both the man and the horse.
‘Sally’, on the other hand, is colourful in its colloquialism:
On the oval he’d go nuts in the middle of a pack. Didn’t care who he hit or which part of him got whacked. He knew that he’d get the ball if the others sensed his blind desperation. Crazy-brave. The opposition could tell he was going nuts so they’d let him have the ball. You would’ve thought he was prepared to die in there and that was scary.
Other pieces that particularly stuck out for me were Susan Fox’s ‘Waiting Room’, Bernadette Zen’s ‘Tramjam’ with its sweet, youthful earnestness, and Emma Starr’s photo ‘Solitude’, but almost every contributor had something to offer, and because of this I’m peeved at the 2009 Vis Ink crew for their wasteful use of four pages on editorial. But still, great job guys. Hope to see you manning another literary ship some time soon.
To order Lost and Found, check out Visible Ink’s post here.
Lost and Found: Visible Ink 21. Courtesy of visibleinkmag.wordpress.com
Next week, I’ll be reviewing another journal (not sure which one yet) unless I find someone else to review for me of course. Do you want to review something? It’s fun. I know you want to.
Until then, New Zealand-styled beached whale and sea gull on YouTube:
For all of those peeps who love secondhand finds, I’ve started contributing to the Melbourne op shop blog I Op Therefore I am. I’ve been mapping out bicycle routes to the neighbourhood’s various op shops; the RSPCA op shops are the closest by far. After picking up some Asian groceries, I bought an old Peter and Wendy book and a hand embroidered tea cosie. The white suitcase I found for my doctor friend was too big to carry on the bike but the lady at the counter was nice enough to put it aside for me. RSPCA op shop volunteers are tops. You can drool over my finds here.
On a more literary note, I’ve finished reading Visible Ink: Lost and Found. Expect a review in the next couple of days. And don’t forget to pen those race-related* poems for open mic at Caffe Sospeso on Friday.
What have you got for me, Facebook/Melbourne/Melbook/Facebourne? Ah, I see that there is another Caffe Sospeso poetry reading on Friday, 6 November 2009. This month’s theme? Power Dynamics. Something to do with power tools; I’m sure that there’s a brand of electric appliances out there called ‘Dynamo’. Let’s google, shall we?
On Thursday, I finished my random pharmacy shift and headed down to The Empress for some Bastards action of the non-Tarantino kind. I was bummed for missing out on the first set, which included a reading from Lisa Dempster, but I did get to see (and record) Allison Browning’s performance of an untitled piece.
The sound quality isn’t great, so you might want to read the written version here.
Spoken word nights are a bit hit and miss. Read You Bastards 3 isn’t an exception to the rule, though I do enjoy the mash of curated/non-curated prose/poetry and the ambience of The Empress, but Ozlem Baro’s ‘Hotel’ was the highlight of the second set, its vulnerability silencing the crowded room.
I also performed my piece, ‘Patrick Bateman’, a homage to American Psycho. I had consumed American Psycho during my Deakin years; the novel is a fascinating study technique-wise and I had wanted to reconstruct its style and write about the act of. Anyway, I performed the first half of ‘Patrick Bateman’, got feedback from Lisa (yay!) and ate some of her vegan birthday cake before trundling home. Lisa, I owe you a birthday drink…possibly two.
Reading 'Patrick Bateman' @ Read You Bastards 3 (photo courtesy of Read You Bastards peeps)
No. 3 was the last Read You Bastards for Visible Ink, but the 2009 editorial team may continue the Bastards tradition in 2010. Meanwhile, Lost and Found: Visible Ink 21 is launching on Monday, 9 November 2009. The cover’s beautiful; lets hope that the words are equally gorgeous.
In August, intrepid me decided to check out the inaugural Read You Bastards night at The Empress Hotel, and despite the lack of entourage, I got up on stage to read my one and only poem, ‘Red Den Beauty’. Fast forward a couple of months: I still only have one poem worth reading, but at least I won’t be reading to strangers. Ohmidog, I have friends who are word nerds and not doctors, pharmacists, or salsa dancers.
Yep, Lisa Dempster will be there, reading from her latest book, Neon Pilgrim, as well as Allison Browning and Anthony Noack (those cool Vis Ink kids from NYWF), and a dog and a cat and possibly a horse and some baked goods. I wish I wasn’t working but I am, so I will be late but hopefully I’ll be right to read. Time for some Patrick Bateman, perhaps?
Suit A has a theory about emergency departments after seeing his share of waiting rooms, those beige-coloured boxes filled with beige-coloured plastic chairs full of ‘medical emergencies’ who get up and jingle about on their two legs (or maybe a wheelchair)…
Who knows? Come see. Read You Bastards 3 happens this Thursday. Words start flying at 8pm.
There’s a lot of WFW going around at the moment. The Melbourne Writers Festival is over for 2009, and everyone has been posting about their feelings of dejection (as opposed to the usual feelings of rejection), which is crazy since Overload and TINA (This Is Not Art) are coming up. Overload starts this Friday, but if you need a writerly fix before then, there’s a couple of gigs happening on Thursday: Angela Meyer’s launching Kathy Charles’ Hollywood Ending at Readings Carlton, and Visible Ink is hosting another Read You Bastards open mic at the Empress. If you haven’t been to a Read You Bastards night, read my post about it. I recommend giving open mic a go, though I suggest bringing your own groupies: they’re so hot right now.
I can’t believe it. The boyfriend had netball. Sarah had a night shift. Everyone else…what was everyone else’s excuse? I’ve just been sitting in the Empress Hotel for the last three hours, randomly chatting to strangers and listening to more strangers read their stuff. Grr. NOT HAPPY. But I had promised to read tonight, so I did, performing my one and only good poem, ‘Red Den Beauty’, which will be appearing in the upcoming issue of Harvest.
Apart from the lack of friends, it was a good night. I got to chat to Tom Conyers about his book Morse Code for Cats, a contemporary novel about sex and drugs and a guy who tries to live his life like a book, and the friendly crew from Visible Ink 2009 happily answered all of my questions. I also scored a weird Greek pastry thingamybob and a copy of the Sleepers Almanac 2007. There were a lot of readings (some too soft for my underachieving ears), as well as some ’em & em dash’ beatboxing.
Visible Ink is publishing its 21st bumper issue this year. There will be text, there will be artwork, and there will be funcakes at the November launch. The submission date is drawing near so do submit soon. I’m not sure what the editors are looking for, but have a read of the magazine’s older issues. If you’re still in doubt and are feeling charitable (there’s a $5 submission fee), send in your stuff anyway before 15 August 2009.
RMIT’s Visible Ink is hosting an open mic at the Empress tonight, and I might be feeling brave (or stupid) enough to read some short shorts, so come and support me. For more details, check out Vis Ink’s post here.
