A few members of the Black Rock & Sage staff have some great book recommendations for the month of March. Check them out below!

—

Jeff Howard, Editor-in-Chief:

Although I prefer the range of topics and voices presented in the Best American Essays 2015 anthology, the 2014 collection was also a great read. Many of the essays are amazing examples of how to deal constructively and meaningfully with sensitive themes and topics, including suicide, racial prejudice, and sexual abuse. One of my favorite essays from this collection, “Thanksgiving in Mongolia” by Ariel Levy, who was the guest editor of the 2015 BAE anthology, details Levy’s experience covering a story in Mongolia during her first pregnancy. The piece is a gripping account that I think compares in terms of its central theme and careful style to Jill Christman’s brief essay “The Sloth” (which was published in Brevity, not in BAE). Reading those pieces together, along with Cheryl Strayed’s essay “Love of My Life” (published in The Sun Magazine) has demonstrated to me in beautiful detail 1) how good these writers are, but perhaps more importantly 2) how essays on the same topic (grief and loss) can be so different in their final realization. All wonderful and tragic reads.

Anelise Farris, Poetry Editor: 

Everyone needs some light, fun reading on occasion, right? I certainly do, and my pick for this month is The X-files Origins comic book, written by Jody Houser and Matthew Dow Smith, with art by Chris Fenoglio and Corin Howell. The comic book traces two different story lines, as Mulder and Scully are young teenagers who live on opposite coasts. Even so, each of their narratives, though different, manage to weave together in such a way that it seems inevitable that Mulder and Scully would turn out to be such a fantastic supernatural-tracking duo. If you are a fan of The X-files this comic is a must, and the easter eggs throughout the series are delightful. Likewise, The X-Files Origins is the perfect comic to begin with if you are totally unfamiliar with the series and are looking for somewhere to start, especially for younger readers.

 

Susan Goslee, Faculty Advisor: 

Bestiary: Poems by Donika Kelly.  Amazing!

 

The following is an excerpt from “To the Right of the Foothills,” a prose piece written by Stephanie Bachman.

—

The man, or sometimes woman, will thank me endlessly, and I’ll sit on the porch while they reverse their car and take a right. I’ll wait. Usually fifteen minutes is best. Most folks take their time on the roads, as one quick turn and they’ll skid off and tumble down the steep, sagebrush and pine hillside.

                Then, I’ll stick a cigarette between my teeth and hop into my pale mustard-colored 78′ Chevy and turn right.

                Their car is usually parked at the top of the hill, with them standing a few feet from it, hands acting as a visor against the bright sun as they search for said town. The smell of sagebrush and bluebell and warm, buttery air is strong up here. The wind turbines, which one person once said looked mystical, surreal, and alien up on these natural hills, will be in view, and their aw-shocking fans will usually be grazing the bluest skies.

 They’ll see my car, relief spanning their features, as they realize I’ve come to correct them on their directions.

                Then I’ll pull my Winchester out from my passenger seat, my finger on the trigger. If I’ve been lucky up to date, then this is the first time their faces will drain of color, or their chests will stop mid-breath. But by then, and if I remain lucky—and I’m always lucky—then they’re mine.

                The sun is a hot, blazing fleck in the empty sky when they first arrive. I sit on the porch, eating stewed carrots and beef cake, admiring the rust and pumpkin and scarlet-colored trees and purple-blue wildflowers sift from the cool breeze. Through the windows of their Chevy Tahoe, I see bright orange vests and denim coats draped across the back of the seats. I see two of them in the front, a man with a short beard and a woman—no, a teen girl—with an orange baseball cap drawing back her long hair. I see no orange and black flag on their window mirror.

                They slow at the sight of my house. The girl says something, and the man drives slowly until he eventually stops. The girl firmly holds two long, beautiful rifles against the seat.

                I tap my fork against my dish, thinking.

—

Want more? This piece was published in Black Rock & Sage Issue 15 (2016). Purchase a copy today!

I was done with the mountains. Too much traffic. Too many trail runners, hikers, nudists, poets, nudist poets. It wasn’t about having space. It was about having my space feel like it’s supposed to feel: secluded, isolated, mine. Now I’m in Sicily. It isn’t quite like home, but at least it still feels authentic.

You may ask, how did you get halfway around the world without being spotted? Well, it isn’t like they’re trying to keep people in the U.S. right now. They’re all about keeping people out.

I made it to Puget Sound and sneaked on board a cargo ship. I didn’t know where the ship was going and didn’t really care. The hold was dark and quiet and smelly, so I felt right at home. Every so often I crept out of my hiding place and raided the galley for supplies. A few weeks later or however long it might have been (I couldn’t really tell down there in the dark), the boat docked in Palermo.

In a big city like this, it’s hard to remain undetected, and before long I stopped trying. My hair makes me stand out, but most people seem to assume that I’m either homeless or Zach Galifianakis. Being over seven feet tall makes me even more conspicuous. I am getting used to being out in the open, which is definitely new, and I don’t have to worry about being chased by people with guns and/or cameras or flashed by people with pens. As far as hygiene goes, Palermo is a lot like the wild, especially when you see the occasional old man who relieves himself on the side of a building, zips himself up, and walks on without shame.

It’s been over a year since I came here. Even though I have become more used to the way they do things here, I have also grown tired of my surroundings. Sometimes all I want is to go home. But I can’t very easily do that, can I? I think it will be very hard to get back in the U.S. without any ID or papers.

Most of the time I sit under café umbrellas writing on napkins. I decided that since I am now a self-proclaimed exile, I should write something extraordinary like Gertrude Stein or James Joyce did, although I prefer to write things that are more accessible.

The other day I sat in my usual spot at the café, eating the rest of a piece of pizza I found in the garbage, jotting down some lines. A little boy with a gelato, probably about six or seven, with dark brown eyes, approached me, a bit reluctant but obviously curious about what I was doing.

Che stai scrivendo? he asked and took another lick.

My Italian’s gotten rather good, although I don’t know how I managed it down here in Sicily where all of the letters get mixed around and truncated and slurred. I replied, Una piccolo poesia.

Me la leggi?

Certo, senz’altro. So I read him what I had:

Mi han fatto un cittadino senza paese

Il mondo mio é diventato una fossa

La vita intera ho vissuto solitario in buio, in prigione

E adesso ci voglio tornare e non posso

Magari la speranza c’è e non la vedo

Devo sempre aspettare un altra stagione

When I finished he just stared at me. By then his gelato was melting and running over and between his small fingers. A breeze picked up, blowing garbage down the street, ruffling his black hair and my reddish-brown. He came closer, put his non-gelato hand on top of my big, fat, hairy paw, and let it rest there. He wasn’t judging me; it was almost like he was inviting me to let myself be content. But a boy his age probably doesn’t know what it’s like to not be able to go home.

At that moment, his mother came around the corner and grabbed his shirt and yelled, “Che stai facendo, Pietro, eh? Mi hai provato di scappare di nuovo? She didn’t even look at me. She just hauled him off like a sack of tomatoes and left me there. Alone. I sat beneath in the shade for another hour, possibly two, and his eyes continued to stare, haunting me, until finally I ripped up the napkin and threw the pieces to the wind.

Meet Andrew Jones!

Andrew works at Tesla in the finance department at their SLC headquarters, and he manages a popular Flipboard magazine about Materials Science. He was an editor at Black Rock & Sage for two years while being a student at ISU, and, in the words of Andrew, “loved every minute of it!”

This month we had the opportunity to ask Andrew about his favorite places, books, and literary magazines—as well as really important subjects, like the beauty of urban Pokemon Go hikes and how being a stay-at-home dog dad would be a dream job. Andrew also offers some great advice for aspiring artists and literary magazine editors.

What three traits define you? Addicted to learning, frugal, loyal.

What’s one thing you couldn’t live without? Audible, but also my wife.

What is your greatest fear? My teeth falling out randomly.

Where is your favorite place to be? Vegas with my wife.

What is your favorite thing to do? Snowboard/Paddleboard.

What would be your ideal career? Stay-at-home dog dad, who is also paid to write science articles.

What is your favorite book, movie, and band? Current favorite book series, The Expanse by James S.A. Corey; current movie, The Accountant; current music, my Pandora is usually keyed to early 2000’s hip hop (Mike Jones, Nelly, Ying Yang Twins).

What is something that might surprise us about you? I got certified in Carbon Fiber manufacturing after I graduated. I wanted to do something with my hands.

What is your favorite quote? My brain doesn’t work like that, but I bet it could be found somewhere in “The Lies of Locke Lamora” by Scott Lynch. The Audible version has some fantastic performances in it.

f you could have a dinner party with ANY three people (dead or alive), who would they be and why? David Berry (Scientist), Head of DARPA, and probably Patrick Rothfuss (Author).

If you had to eat one meal every day for the rest of your life, what would it be? The Double Double with Bacon from Lucky 13 here in SLC.

If Hollywood made a movie about your life, who would you like to see cast as you? The Raphael Ninja Turtle suit from The Secret of the Ooze movie.

If you were an animal what would you be? My Frenchie, Karl.

 If you were stuck on an island, what three things would you bring? If I could bring living things, my wonderful wife, Karl, and some sort of drone ordering service to keep the island livable.

If you could have a superpower, what would it be? Super jumping with the ability to land, because flying is just too much.

What kinds of hobbies and interests do you have outside of work? I am very involved with the local Materials Science scene in SLC. I am mainly focused in composites that are associated with the space industry. I also workout every day and do the occasional urban Pokemon Go hike.

Where do you see yourself in 5 years? My wife is in the Army, serving as a dentist, so wherever they tell me to go, I will be there. Hopefully I will also have a sweet job as well. I am already working within my third major industry so I am pretty flexible.

Do you have any favorite literary magazines/publications that you’d like to give a shout out to? Nothing specific, but I highly recommend any graduates to continue to devour anything that gets your creative juices going.

Do you have any advice for aspiring artists and literary magazine editors? Get a minor! The real world needs more artists and editors but it doesn’t always pay a livable wage right out of college. I highly recommend getting a minor in something that marks another achievement or hireable skill on your resume instead of taking that bowling elective for the 3^rd time.

 

---

For new spotlight posts, please visit our blog the second week of every month (but, of course, do come back more often than that!).

A few members of the Black Rock & Sage staff have some great book recommendations for the month of February. Check them out below!

—

Jeff Howard, Editor-in-Chief:

Many of us have at some time or another perused or seen or heard of one or more of the many accounts and perspectives of the Holocaust, found in literature and film, including such classics as The Diary of Anne Frank, Roberto Benigni’s La Vita È Bella, Art Spiegelman’s Maus and Maus II, and Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. These works are cultural and historical touchstones by which those of us who did not directly experience the Holocaust or have the faintest inkling what it entailed catch glimpses into a series of events which are otherwise unimaginable. For my pick today, I would recommend adding an anthology called Holocaust Poetry, edited by Hilda Schiff, to the list of acclaimed Holocaust literature, of which there is a great deal. Poetry, as an art form, I believe, is uniquely suited to fill in the emotional gaps in our frequently porous cultural understanding—or, in my case, lack thereof—of the Jewish experience in the concentration camps. The polyvocal quality of the anthology too adds to the reading experience. The collection contains poetry by Anne Sexton, Paul Celan, Sylvia Plath, Elie Wiesel, Czeslaw Milosz, Primo Levi, Bertolt Brecht, and many others. United in this anthology, these voices present a mosaic of insight that implores the reader, to borrow a phrase from Wiesel’s stirring poem “Ani Maamin, A Song Lost and Found Again,” to “open your eyes and see what I have seen.”

Susan Goslee, Faculty Adviser: 

 

 

I recommend Elegies for Uncanny Girls by Jennifer Colville. Spectacular! And a recent guest writer at ISU!

 

 

Anelise Farris, Poetry Editor: 

One of my favorite comic books I’ve read recently is Snow Blind, written by Ollie Masters with art by Tyler Jenkins and letters by Colin Bell. Snow Blind centers on a teenager named Teddy, who is probably the coolest loner ever—who gets in trouble for sneaking into a library? Answer: my kind of guy. Any who, after Teddy posts a picture of his dad to social media, the FBI show up, and, long story short, Teddy finds out that his family is in the witness protection program and now they’re in danger. I don’t read a lot of crime comics, but this is so much more than that: it’s a really affecting coming of age story that has ridiculously beautiful art and fantastic lettering. This is one to read again and again.

Chris Swensen, Prose Editor: 

I recommend Suite française by Irène Némirovsky. The story behind this collection is as tragic as its contents. Written in the days of Germany’s invasion of France, Némirovsky was a victim of the Holocaust. Her manuscript for these two combined novels were discovered years later and published. the novels themselves detail how the people of France both feared and coped with their German invaders.The novels  are an insightful and often bitter exploration of human vanity in the face of great historical upheaval. Having been introduced to these at school, I believe Némirovsky belongs in the canon of great modernists. A must read for lovers of literature from that era.