There Will Be Cookies

Open Mic Night

Unitarian Universalist Church

of the Universe

@ 701 B Ave.

Saturday night at 6:30

OTD

Summer is a time for new people! At the last reading, we had a lot of new faces and one new reader. His name is Jack Hunsucker, and I wrote an OKIE article about a production of Sleuth that he directed for the Lawton Community Theatre. Hopefully, Jack will come and read again this month, and here's a link to his website where you can read more of his work.

Maya Sloan's Book Release Party in OKC Tuesday, June 22

I wrote an article about Maya Sloan for OKIE Mag this month, and, in case you are interested, I've posted it at my new blog that I haven't posted anything else to yet.

There are a bunch of links there, too, but for now, you might be interested in watching this book trailer for Maya's new novel High Before Homeroom.

I also suggest you watch this video, which includes footage of Maya reading from her novel:

Maya's book release party is this Tuesday at 7pm at the very Barnes and Noble on May Ave. that she used to frequent as a tormented teen. I think it's going to be a lot of fun, and it's a good opportunity to meet her before she gets all snooty and Hollywood on us.

David Pilon Writes About The Oklahoma Review

In the spring semester of 2010, I was enrolled in a class at Cameron University listed as Online Magazine Editing. It wasn’t really exactly what I had expected or what it might sound like to some. The class was also my introduction to The Oklahoma Review, a publication I wish I had known about sooner.

The Oklahoma Review is an international online magazine published twice each year through the English Department at Cameron. Its Editor in Chief and the professor in charge of the class that publishes it is Dr. John Hodgson. For those who don’t know Dr. Hodgson, he can seem intimidating at first with his booming voice of authority, and it’s also not a great idea to smart off to him or shirk on assignments (both of which I’ve sometimes done in the past). However, it was actually fun working for him, and I learned a lot from the experience.

I was also impressed both by the volume and the quality of work the magazine receives. Being in the class also means being on the staff, and my main task as such was working as a student reader, reading through and evaluating poems, short stories, and works of creative nonfiction. I read some great pieces (and honestly, some not-so-great ones as well), and I got to openly discuss them with my peers. Out of the works published in the spring issue, I was particularly fond of the short story “The Statue at the Café Ephemera,” by Robert Kaye.

As a Creative Writing major, a writer, and someone who is looking towards pursuing an MFA and probably going on to be a college instructor, what I gained most from working on the magazine was learning more about the submission and publication processes, as well as building better communication skills in regards to writing and literature and a better understanding of what is considered quality, contemporary literature.

The spring 2010 issue of The Oklahoma Review turned out really good, and I enjoyed helping to create it. I liked reading the poems and the one work of fiction published in this issue, and I would recommend the magazine to anyone who values quality literature, as well as recommending the magazine editing class at Cameron to anyone who is interested.

David Pilon is a senior Creative Writing student at Cameron University. He is also the newly elected Vice President of the Cameron chapter of Sigma Tau Delta. He has been a reader for both The Oklahoma Review and The Gold Mine Literary & Fine Arts Journal. His poetry was nominated for the John G. Morris Poetry Prize the past two years.

Lawton's Juneteenth Celebration This Saturday

Lawton, Oklahoma (June 19, 2010)

Juneteenth is a holiday with an amazing and surprising history. What is Juneteenth?

This year’s event takes place on June 19, a Saturday. At 4:00 p.m., a program and celebration march will occur at the Buffalo Soldier Monument, located at Second and Gore Boulevard. Then from 5:00 to 8:00 p.m. at the Patterson Community Center, located at #4 NE Arlington, people will be able to enjoy food, music, games, and other activities.

Specific games and activities are held for children. The committee invites historians, storytellers, and poets, who all share history about events relating to African-American culture in Oklahoma and the events surrounding the Civil War and Juneteenth.

Food and music will also be plentiful. Local musicians will provide live music. Jazz and Rhythm & Blues will be two musical styles featured. Food will be cooking in abundance. About forty cases of ribs and one hundred pounds of brisket will be cooked and consumed. All food and drink was either donated or purchased with donated money. According to organizer Albert Johnson, Sr., about 1,500 to 2,000 people contribute money for the event.

Wallace Moore, a cowboy poet and historian of Oklahoman history, regularly adds to the Juneteenth celebration by reciting poems and speaking about the history surrounding Oklahoma during the Civil War period. Unfortunately, Moore is unable to attend this year’s event because he will be out of town. Prior to last year’s event, Moore wrote a poem titled, “De End of De Row.” He read it for Juneteenth and received lots of compliments for the poem and his reading of it.

Here is the full poem:

De End of De Row

I was born a slave, down in Texas. Seems like it was yesterday, but if the truth be known, it was a long time ago.

My Mammy and me was owned by a man what had a big cotton Plantation. Some of de biggest cotton fields that I ever did see. I use to say to Mammy, “How is we ever goner make all de way down younder to de end of de row.

Us slaves had it mighty hard in dem days, working from sun up till sun down. Our lives were controlled by the crack of de whipe. We had to jump ever time we heared de horn blow.

We was always busy, plowing, planting, chopping or picking de masters cotton. It don’t matter how hard we work, we can’t to seem to make it to de end of de roe.

Then comes de big war. You know, the one between de states. I guess you don heared about that. Mr. Lincon, he up and freeded all us slaves. Says that we could just get all out things and go.

It took almost a year before we got de word down here in Texas. I will never forget, it was de 19^th of June. I was standing knee deep in ol masters cotton field. As always I was trying the dickens to make it to de end of de row.

Ever since then, people of color in this part of the country have been celebrating the 19^th of June. They called it Juneteeth. Down in my hometown, somebody would Bar-B-Q a goat and make some red kool-aid. All the men would go out behind the outhouse for a cup of chock beer. We would have a high ol time. Lord we would get down de fiddle and de bow.

I have been to lot’s of Juneteeths over the years, but no matter how much fun I have, I can’t ever forget the smell of dem slave cabins and how hard it was for us to make it to de end of de row.

Now days we think that we all don made it. We got a black man on the Supreme Court, a black Secretary of State, and a black Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. We even go a black President, Lord, don’t you know.

Some of my black brothers and sisters are still shackled by the invisible chains of drugs and gang violence. Unless we all join together to break dem chains, they ain’t never gonna make it to de end of de row.

This year as you enjoy the party, try not to forget just whey it is we celebrate. As a people, we don come a long way, but de good Lord knows, we still got a long way to go.

Get your woman and the kids, why you can even bring your mother-in-law, just long as you come one come all. We got big doings planned at the Juneteenth party so you just meet us all down at de end of de row.

Tonight's the Night!

Hope to see you all at the

Unitarian Universalist Church

of the Universe

@ 701 B Ave.

tonight at 6:30

OTD.

Often there are cookies, but what you want to come for is to hear brilliant, charming and smarty-pantsed poems like the one below, which Magan Chappell, who may or may not have tripped her way to the podium, wrote just for you--really. (And for Dr. Morris)

My Own Fear

by Magan Chappell

First let me apologize.
You see, I have this stupid fear.
And with the way my voice is shaking right now,
I’m sure you know it’s because I’m standing…..up here.

Some people call it topophobia,
Stage fright or a fear of public situations.
Others call it social phobia,
A fear of socially negative evaluations.

Glassophobia fits well too,
A fear of speaking in a public setting.
Not too hard to explain right now,
Considering how much my palms are sweating.

I’m proud that I didn’t trip coming up the steps,
Although I wouldn’t have been surprised.
However, since I wrote this poem before tonight, if I DID trip,
Just overlook it because I didn’t have a chance to revise.

I know my cheeks are beet red,
I’m sure my face is really glowing.
Trust me, it’s not from being pregnant,
Or the fact that my baby bump is showing.

My stomach is turning circles, my mouth is dry,
And unless I am mistaking,
We’re all thankful that this podium is here
Or you’d certainly see my knees shaking.

My heart is pounding in my chest.
The anxiety is quite intense.
Thank goodness my tongue didn’t swell
The embarrassment sure would be immense.

Forgive me if I seem a bit flustered,
But rest assured, I don’t think I’m gonna pass out.
Especially since I’m coming close to the end,
And I’m starting to feel a little better now.

I had to do this reading for my poetry class.
I’m not really sure if it’s for a grade.
But juuuuuust in case it is,
Is it worthy of an “A”?????

Sam McMichael Presents at The Spirit of Oklahoma Storytelling Festival in Seminole, OK

Sam McMichael was one of the featured storytellers at the Spirit of Oklahoma Storytelling Festival in Seminole, OK on June 4th and 5th. At least fifty or sixty men and women told stories over two days representing every region of the state. Sam was one of the most respected and admired tellers. People wanted to say hello, shake his hand, and ask for help. He led a workshop on finding voice and the classroom at Seminole State College was packed. His fans were ready to partake in his knowledge. The workshop itself was well planned and Sam even kept the crowd happy with some storytelling.

The Territory Tellers hosted the event. Tellers from other states also came to reunite and tell particularly Oklahoman tales. For a new guy to Oklahoma like me, it was exciting to be in the middle of all these Oklahoman artists who so obviously love their place and the people who comprise it.

Among some of the people and things I was luckily introduced to in the two days:

46th Star Press run by Pam Bracken, who has committed her free time to publishing and advertising books by Oklahomans or about Oklahoma. Her 10-year old daughter was recruited, with a commission on each book she sold. Her husband designs the website, at least, and I believe does much, much more. (We will feature then on our blog later in the summer.)

Teller Eldrena Douma, who grew up on the Laguna Peublo reservation in New Mexico and the Hopi reservation in Arizona. She lived in Lawton and told these sweet, incredibly identifiable stories about looking for others who share our world view, so that we know we're not alone on the planet.

The fanfare surrounding our friend, Sam McMichael. He will say I am being silly, but it was clear that he is respected for his craft. He is good at engaging an audience in a story about his own life. I know the difference between a fake laugh and a sincere one, and his featured story was full of from-the-gut belly laughs. He is also such a great representative for southwestern Oklahoma and for rural life in general. Walking around the festival with Sam made me think of the expression, "I'm with the band."

I told a story! It was exhilarating; I was nervous. I botched it over and over, but I got a laugh or two. And I finished without falling over. I am ready to try again.

Valerie Martinez--Imaginative Poet, Inspiring Teacher

In 1997, I enrolled in English 364, Creative Writing: poetry. The professor: Valerie Martinez. It was her first year at the school. None of the students knew anything about her. She turned out to be serious but friendly. Intense but with a sense of humor. She didn't care that we couldn't write very well. She did care that we gave a sincere effort to improve. When I asked her if I could visit her during office hours to ask about additional poets I could read, she responded enthusiastically. When I showed up, she handed me a couple of xeroxed poems and we read them together. In class, she would make copies of poems that seemed to be in the spirit of our poetic attempts. She wanted us to have models. She also asked us to write an essay about a contemporary poet. She made it clear that reading and writing poetry were not separate acts. Later on, a friend and I started saying, "A writer who doesn't read is like a chef who hates vegetables." Or something like that (hopefully much funnier). The idea behind that joke is one that originated in Valerie's class for me. Writing is not an easy task; a person has to be willing to do all the things necessary if he or she expects to write well and improve.

There are so many inspiring moments I want to share with you here about Valerie Martinez, but mainly, I want to express that she is a caring, diligent teacher who, in 1997, just happened to be one of the strongest up-and-coming poets in the U.S. The start of her career was happening just as she was teaching our class.


Valerie's first book, Absence Luminescent, was published in 1999 by Four Way Books, and she had just received notice that it had won the Larry Levis Prize when our class began. At the same time, she was included in a major Latino/a anthology called Touching the Fire (Random House, 1998), edited by Ray Gonzales, a well-know poet and anthology editor. I bought that book as soon as it came out and was mesmerized that one of the poets was my teacher. I dreamed of being a published author.

One day, Valerie mentioned that she earned a Master of Fine Arts (MFA) in creative writing from the University of Arizona. I asked her about it. Honestly, I can still remember my thoughts when she began explaining her MFA experience. I thought, "This sounds like the greatest thing I've ever heard of." Despite being a brand-new to poetry and not having written a single thing that my teacher would refer to as a "poem," I wanted to be in the MFA environment. Valerie offered to advise me about the application process. A year later when I walked into her office and said I had been accepted at a school in Minnesota, she hugged me then walked into the halls and told each faculty member she could find about my news. Her excitement was surprising. And it was authentic. My experience has been that Valerie cares for her students as her top priority. Even after thirteen years, she is my teacher. I don't see or speak to her often, but she still shows the same concern she did when I was in her class.

As far as Valerie's own poetry, there are so many ideas I feel like I need to share. I will state this: Valerie Martinez writes tight, lyrical poems which emphasize sound at the same time that they stretch the limits of words: the ways in which words can be used and the ways they can be connected and attached to other words. This poem, "And Seeing It" has always been one of my favorite poems.

"And Seeing It" ©1999

Orange, orange. And the hand arching up

to hold it. The woman's hand. The arching.

Up. And the star exploding, seeing it

where it wasn't, a telescope on the night sky.

The thermonuclear flash.

The explosion.

She had her hand out; it fell

like an explosion into her fingers.

It wasn't the cope and the eye,

was hand, fruit. It was what I saw.

It was what I imagine I somehow saw.

Out on the horizon of stars beyond the gigantic sun.

Beyond the measure of the sun the star bursting.

And it was autumn. The shadows of oleanders

made colors of bodies on the lawn.

The girls dresses were red on the green lawn.

Smelling of fruit.

Making shapes of fruit in their hands.

With the sky all opaque, and the one star.

There, at the top of the fingers, the orange.

At the tip like God and Adam touching.

Like the ceiling of the Sistine where the stars might be.

And knowing about hydrogen, carbon.

A collapsing in. The water drunk by girls,

the breath given out. Breath, out.

The table of elements served up.

Iron in spinach in the aqua bowl.

Green explosion in the aqua bowl.

Clusters of grape stems without grapes.

Molecular models like grape stems.

To what we address, link.

To what we speak.

Not in our lifetime will we see it.

Not in the sky like this: supernova.

Not ever again, they say.

Drops. The orange.

(from Absence, Luminescent)