PRICE $5.00 Don’t Miss Linda Blaskey’s Interview with Sherry Gage Chappelle on P. 3 ISSN # 1935-0538

November/December, 2011 Volume 5 , Issue 6

The Broadkill Review c/o John Milton & Co. 104 Federal Street, Milton, DE 19968 Sherry Gage Chappelle Wins

Editor and Publisher: James C. L. Brown

Editorial Advisory Board: 9th Dogfish Head Poetry Prize Grace Cavalieri H. A. Maxson Fleda Brown (Milton, De.) Sherry Gage tive New Englander and a Howard Gofreed Linda Blaskey, Interview Editor/Reviewer Chappelle was named the lifelong reader and student, Gary Hanna winner of the 2011 Dogfish as major influences on her John Elsberg Edward M. Lukacs, Photographic/Literary Editor Head Poetry Prize at the 13th life and writing. She re- Scott Whitaker, Literary Reviewer (NBCC) Michael Blaine, Literary Reviewer Annual John Milton Memo- ceived degrees from St. Law- hadrow deforge rial Celebration of Poets and rence University and Man- Phillip Bannowsky, Literary Scene Columnist Steven Leech, Literary Historian Poetry held December 10th at hattanville College, as well Anne Colwell the Milton Library. Mark as attending non-degree Australia and South Pacific Editor: Carter, Events Czar at Dog- programs in a number of Maryanne Khan

To submit work to The Broadkill Review, please send fish Head, said, “It’s always a other educational settings, no more than six poems or one short story to: pleasure to see a local writer including Harvard. the_broadkill_review @earthlink.net. Simultaneous submissions must be identified as such. Submissions thriving in coastal Delaware, In a long career as must be in MS Word format and sent as a single attach- ment, or be contained within the text of your e-mail. No and Dogfish Head Craft a classroom teacher, her photos at this time, or fanciful renderings of your work. Brewery congratulates students ranged in age from These make downloading your text difficult and time consuming. Allow up to three months for response, as Sherry Gage Chapelle for three to eighty. In all the we fill each issue with the highest quality material. th being the 9 recipient of the settings, nursery to grad Subscriptions cost a first time fee to individuals of $15, Dogfish Head Poetry school, her major focus was $18 annually to libraries, but you must send an e-mail requesting the publication to our e-mail address, above, Prize. Salmagundi lives up language and literacy. She and a check made payable to John Milton and Com- pany, mailed to 104 Federal Street, Milton, DE 19968. to its meaning and it is a de- particularly loved teaching 6 pdf issues will be delivered to your e-mail-box. You lightful smorgasbord of enjoy- reading and writing to must renew your subscription once a year ($10 individu- als, $15 libraries), and you are in charge of. updating able reading.” fourth graders and “Kiddie your e-mail information with us. Bounced issues will result in your subscription being dropped. Alterna- While the Prize is for the winning Lit” to her graduate students at Manhattan- tively, we will mail you a cd with all six issues on it at chapbook-length manuscript, The Cape Ga- ville. the end of the year for $17, which includes shipping and handling, if you select this option. zette and its Publisher, Dennis Forney, have When Sherry retired to Sussex

Advertising rates for an ad in each of the year’s six each year helped to underwrite the cost actu- County in the late nineties she intended to issues: eighth of a page, $50; quarter page $95; half ally publishing the Prize-winning manuscript. write a work of nonfiction around her spe- page $180; full page $350. Chappelle, the Ninth Winner of the cialty, Children’s Literature. But when she prestigious regional prize, counts being a na- joined the (see Chappelle, page 4) Inside this issue:

P. 1 Chappelle Wins Dogfish Prize! P. 1 TBR Notes Writers of the World As The Broadkill Review Hits the Five Year Mark, We P. 2 Letters and Notes, Credo P. 3 Linda Blaskey Interviews 2011 Thought It Might Be Interesting to Take a Look Back Dogfish Head Prize Winner Sherry Gage Chappelle Each of the push pins in the P. 4 Poetry by Sherry gage Chappelle P. 7 Poetry by Carolyn Cecil map on the right represents at least P. 8 Scott Whitaker reviews Robert one and frequently many, many more Friedland’s Second Wedding of than one of the writers we have pub- Dr. Geneva Song lished in our five years of existence. P. 9 Scott Whitaker reviews A.W. Dennuntis’ Master Siger’s Dream There are too many writers from Dela- P. 13 Scott Whitaker reviews Jeff ware, Maryland, Virginia, Pennsyl- Hirsch’s The Eleventh Plague vania, and New York to put pins in P. 14 Non-fiction by Steven Leech P. 17 Scott Whitaker reviews the work those locations, so we’re not going to try of Eric Greinke to make the number of pins accurate in P. 20 Name this writer! those locations. Likewise for Sydney, P. 25 Writer’s Advice by Jan Bowman Brisbane, and a number of other P. 28 “Poet Laureate” What Does It Mean? (See TBR Around the World, p. 10) P. 29 Things No One told Me that I

Learned the Hard Way The Broadkill Review is a member of the Council of Liter- Independent Mid-Atlantic P. 30 Poetry by William D. Cecil, Sr. ary Magazines and Presses (CLMP), the Delaware Press P. 33 Fiction by Maryanne Khan Association (DPA), and the Independent Mid-Atlantic P. 38 Literary Birthdays Publishers (IMAP), and is listed in Dustbooks’ Interna- IMAP tional Directory of Literary Magazines and Small Presses P. 40 Contributors Notes and the Writer’s Market and Poet’s Market Publishers Group VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 2 Letters and Notes from Our Readers What a wonderful magazine you’ve put Thank you so much for including my the file data into a mere digital photo- together. It’s gotten huge! And you have poems in this issue of your Broadkill graph of the journal – one of the reasons so many good poems, which of course is Review. I'm so happy you have done this. we do it this way. Your average large what I notice first. Good work. I miss you I'm also very happy that you chose to MS word document with graphics is and miss our Milton Festival. I hope present my small publishing company, probably larger. The only problem you you’re well. Libros, with a few of our books. THANK might have is if you still have dial-up — Fleda (Brown) YOU. Regards, internet access, which does tend to slow — Manolis Aligizakis down the download. The original file Great issue. Especially Nina Bennett's size (of Vol. 5 No. 5) in Microsoft Pub- work. "Terminal A-West" made me Nice job, Jamie. I really appreciate the lisher is 22,742 KB, but once it is con- laugh out loud in a cafe on South great layout and the plug for my book, verted to the pdf format it is only 4,733 Street. And thanks again for including too. — Janice (Lynch Schuster) KB in size. The download (just now) my story. As always, I appreciate it. Thank you so much! The surrounding only took my computer 22 seconds, and — Joshua Isard my computer isn’t terribly fast or power- (advertising) is also excellent! Again, thank you for publishing my po- — Laci (Laszlo Andras Magyar) ful. I’m surprised that the ***.edu sys- ems. It is always a pleasure to be repre- tem can’t handle it. sented along with Kelley White, whose My thanks for the publication of Please let me know if this con- work I've long admired. The issue is AUBADE in your recent edition -a real tinues to be a problem. I DO remember great and I appreciate your promotion of pleasure to included in such a fine jour- that when I taught at George Washing- Loopholes. Hoping autumn is treating nal. — Martin Burke ton University we were only allocated so you and yours well, much disk-space on our mainframe, but I don't like to download huge files to my that was so long ago I’m sure they’ve — David (Kozinski) computer - you should put the journal replaced that entire system with office International Terminal by Nina Bennett online for viewing. pcs by now. kicks ass. And I like the issue. I've —(a reader at a university) Best wishes, and I really hope liked every issue you've sent. I think I Our reply: you download and read TBR. Many uni- may have even shared some of the other As a pdf format file, The Broadkill Re- versity libraries are receiving it. issues with other people on my e-mail view shouldn’t actually be too large for — Jamie distribution list. Thanks for No. 5/5. your system. The pdf function flattens — J.T. (Whitehead)

Credo On bouts-rimés, slams and sonnets

“The intelligence of a poet, called upon to Maybe, however, it’s time to bring back bouts-rimés discourse in verse on some subject without first for the discipline it demands of the poet for spontaneous meditating on it and deciding upon the heads of creation of work in form. C. then goes on to say, of the con- his argument, cannot produce good things except testant, that by chance, for though his mind pursues the sub- ject he has been given to discuss, he usually finds “(h)e finds himself obliged to use the first rhyme which himself led astray by the rhyme, to which he is chance offers him, and not having time to look for one enslaved despite his great knowledge of the lan- which will more properly express his thought, he can- guage in which he is speaking.” not say what he wanted to say, and he says what he — Giacomo Casanova did not want to say and what he would not have said if (trans. Willard R. Trask) he had been composing pen in hand.”

There may not be enough room in this column Yet this is exactly why I believe that contemporary to say everything I’d like to say about this passage writers ought to write poems in a pre-set form. Writing a from Willard Trask’s brilliant translation of Caasa- sonnet, say, or a sestina, imposes a framework within nova’s twelve volume memoir, but I am fascinated by which you must cast your ideas; quite often your thinking the fact that the much-maligned poetry slam has been is opened up by having to shoe-horn what you want to say around now for the better part of three centuries. into a rigid structure; you may be forced to find a new ap- Contestants took turns creating poetry on the fly, with proach to the subject. Aside from the fact that it’s a good the people in the audience judging who had done bet- mental exercise and forces you to examine all of your word ter. But Casanova, a writer, poet, translator and let- choices, you might well discover that you have written ter-writer (no e-mail then, of course), did find this something, as Casanova suggests ought to be the goal of purely improvisational parlor game unsatisfying for every poet, sublime. What do you think? E-mail us your the reasons he mentions above. He might well say the thoughts for the next issue. same thing of improvisational rap. — Jamie Brown VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 3 TBR’s Linda Blaskey Interviews 2011 Dogfish Head Poetry Prize-Winner Sherry Gage Chappelle

Ale Street News once said of Dogfish Head Craft the origin was of a plated, visually attractive arrange- Brewery ales “Could these…..be the beers for poetry & phi- ment of fruits, vegetables, meats and fish. A salmagundi was losophy?” So it would seem to naturally follow that Sam Cala- meant to provide a wide range of flavors, textures and colors on gione, not only the president and founder of the brewery but a single plate. The connotation is thought, effort and good also an English major in college, would choose to sponsor a taste. I liked that a single word was capable of carrying all poetry contest. The Delmarva Peninsula is so much richer for that freight. his dedication to this project. And for the constant support of Dennis Forney, co-founder of The Cape Gazette, and sponsor of TBR: There are several poems in your chapbook that refer- the chapbook portion of the contest. ence boats. Why do they seem to be a recurring image for you? The Dogfish Head Poetry Prize has been awarded to poets as far north as Wilmington, Delaware, as far west as SGC: The most meaningful and happiest hours of my child- Ridgely, Maryland and as far south as Onley, Virginia. And hood were spent at Lake Winnepesaukee in New Hampshire — now, Sherry Gage Chappelle of Rehoboth Beach, Delaware in a house constructed by my grandparents. Boats, but not completes the four corners, towards the east. zippy, noisy speedboats, were always part of my life there. I Following is an interview by The Broadkill Review liked quiet, more reflective time in a boat that slid through the with Ms. Chappelle. water without disturbing that world. I call the lake my muse, so perhaps the boats are a metaphor for self. TBR: First of all, congratulations on your win. It must be exciting. TBR: The loss of your brother is also a recurring theme. Would you talk about that? SGC: Poetry is often a lonely business, so the validation of others, their appreciation of my work is exhilarating. I went SGC: When a sibling, particularly a younger one, dies before around for a week like a cross between a contestant on The you, it rocks your world. My brother’s life had tragic propor- Price Is Right and Sally Field on Oscar Night. I started writ- tions in many ways and we had a complicated relationship. ing poetry later than many people do, so this lovely recogni- With his death I had to deal with that as well as face my own tion was an extra plus for me. mortality. Writing about it was one positive use of all my men- tal and emotional energy. Because the effects and affect was a TBR: What prompted you to enter the Dogfish Head Poetry large part of my life for the last two years, I know it intruded Prize contest? even when it wasn’t part of the original subject matter of a poem. SGC: I think it is wonderful that there IS a Dogfish Head Poetry Prize — something we local writers should support. I TBR: The poem Every Last One: A Meditation is about our respect the work of earlier winners, and the hard work that lives, our deaths and the subsequent obituaries. One line in the volunteers who make this poem is….lives writ small, it possible put into it an- robbed of blueberries….This is a nually. I was a runner- surprising and lovely line. up in 2009 and hoped to What was behind the inspira- exceed that this time. tion of it?

TBR: Salmagundi is SGC: I realized when I saw an unusual title. How this question that blueberries did you decide on it and are also a recurring motif for what does it mean? me. They are small and beauti- ful, a blessing. I loved to pick SGC: It’s an old word, them as a child. For all of us I nearly obsolete, and I think, it is often the small love both the meaning as things in our lives that are the well as the feel of the most meaningful in the end — word in your mouth, if and the sweetest. that makes sense. The beginning of the collec- TBR: You don’t seem to shy tion has a long definition away from writing in forms, as of the word, but basically there are several examples in (see Interview, next page)

Photo by Bruce Chappelle VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 4 (Interview, from previous page) (Chappelle, from page 1) your chapbook — an abecedarian, a few sijos and a pantoum, Rehoboth Art League’s Writer’s Group, she was quickly which, interestingly, uses bed bugs as its metaphor. Isn’t writing in seduced by the power of poetry, and hasn’t been able to form pretty challenging? And why do it? break free since. She has received Opportunity Grants from the Delaware Division of the Arts, and twice en- SGC: I never used to write in forms, but in the last year or so I joyed their support in attending Writer’s Retreats organ- have become strangely attracted to them. They take me in direc- ized by Delaware’s former Poet Laureate, Fleda Brown. tions I hadn’t thought about initially. They pull me out of familiar She has been mentored as well by area poet/teachers geography into new territory. Although Walking Among the Stones Gerry La Femina and Piotr Florczyk. She has been a fa- is an abecedarian, most people don’t even see that it’s a form — and miliar face at local readings, including Poetry At the I love that. Beach. Her poems have appeared in Delaware Beach TBR: In the sequence of poems in Salmagundi, several seem to Life, the Broadkill Review and Delmarva Review. Poems speak to each other. As examples: Yankee Speak and where the have been anthologized in There’s No Place Like Here and words go when they disappear is beyond me (pages 13 and 14); and Child of My Child: Poems and Stories for Grandparents. No Flag and Walking Among the Stones (pages 22 and 23). These Her poem from the latter, “While Riding the Gloucester are just two examples out of several others in the book. Was it a Hammock, I think about Mortality,” was nominated for a deliberate decision to create this resonance between the poems? Pushcart Prize. Poetry gets her up in the morning, but away SGC: Absolutely. In part it was because I had heard advice that from her desk she also is the dramaturge for the Clear a collection is improved by how the poems are placed. Because the Space Theater Company, the long running facilitator of entire collection is the making of a journey — starting in beauty the Browseabout Book Club, a soprano in several local and ending in beauty, I wanted the poems to lead organically from ensembles, and a grandmother. Forces that have kept one to the next. A salmagundi is not just a mixture but is arranged her pen in her hand include the supportive Delaware with like items together on the plate. poetry community, the Delaware Division of the Arts, and her husband, Bruce. TBR: Putting a manuscript together is not an easy job. What are *** some of the difficulties that you faced?

SGC: It is a daunting task, but I’m a process person, so I also found it fascinating. For me the hardest part was deciding which poems to leave out — ones I liked but which I didn’t feel fit in this I Row on the Lake After Thirty Years Away journey. I hoped I had a good balance and then I asked a skilled poet friend if I’d achieved my goal. That was really helpful and I sent my “child” out with confidence believing that it was the best it I step into the aluminum shell could be. of this borrowed Argo, keep a weather eye, balance and counter The Broadkill Review extends it congratulations to her for a job balance my planted feet, remember well done and thanks her for her time spent on this interview. when this rock bound shore was mine. Every August then I would slip over it’s glacial swag, sip its icy brace through every pore.

I push off the sun-stippled dock

into the waiting blue of this mountain bowl. The Cape Gazette my hands curl into the worn wooden oars, has helped under- and I lift and fit them into the oarlocks. write the costs as- Heavy headed, up they reach in celebration sociated with publi- cation of the Dog- then back and down, familiar fish Head Poetry call and response, oarlock to oar. Prize Winning As the blades scallop the water chapbook-length dip dip dip manuscript of po-

etry by a resident I move forward, looking back. of the Delmarva Peninsula!

From Sherry Gage Chappelle’s Samlagundi See the following pages for more of her work. VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 5 Poetry by Sherry Gage Chappelle From Salmagundi

Walking Among the Stones

After she removes her stole, the priest steps over the cloud of turf pulled back from the New England soil’s deep ochre. The sexton closes the Cyclops eye of your grave, and I watch the depth charges of pain rise in our once baby brother, his eyes engraved with lines of loss framed by the serifs of grief cut into the nearby granite.

How many times we have ridden here in snaking lines of black I wonder, visited our own personal Sleepy Hollow on the hill just for a day -- to bury one more rowboat full of dreams, yet another keeper of secrets lost somewhere on the river between dawn and dusk? My brother, my memories of tattles and battles now lies with you, and I lay you down with mother, father, cousins once removed. The center hall colonial symmetry of my life is put to the test again. I want a return to a day quickened with cat fur’s static, well ordered silverware, another rose-bound trellis, a clean plate.

Silent we clasp the proffered hands: landlady Pat, childhood’s Tim, Marilyn who’d wanted your love, total the numbers as we leave for the mercy meal, yet another unction, place for the telling of the story no one knows the all of, no new nouns, adjectives, verbs to add to Vietnam, the middle Billy Goat Gruff, wild rides with these well-wishers who travel on to their

Xanadu of porches and couches, leave me to remember you each holy day, make additions and subtractions, attempt to You Ask a Lot of Me zero out the account where I will always be in arrears.

You always have, you know you stole the lines, the bows, center stage. You became the star and me a bit player in your shine, and even so you never forgave that I was born first. You ran over my cat, never sent me presents, cards, called. An accident, or not, you are no longer here. Now it is me who files the forms, writes checks, clears the shelves, advertises Truck for Sale, seldom used, and against my will, do the most loving thing I’ve ever done, forgive, forgive, forgive. VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 6 Poetry by Sherry Gage Chappelle From Salmagundi

Every Last One: A Meditation No Flag

I Do you want a flag for the coffin asks Hope at the VA when I call with my news, Obits: the end caps of life in black and white He’s entitled to that and a stipend toward expenses. daily I read these - the Do Not Pass Go no Get Out of Jail Free notices, smudges The last gifts of a grateful nation. dust on the hands, ashes of the inevitable. The best, little novels of rise and fall, or get up Years ago a blackout curtain of a thunderstorm and go again. Exposition, rising action, climax fell on my car and the world smothered us in denouement, end, stop, read between the lines, obsidian rain child’s tale, police blotter. The rest of the story. ebony woods Write your own. There’s a kit for that. Leave onyx roads out the affair with the postman-poet, your mother’s until coming out of the birth abortion, the cigarette burns on your brother’s arm, canal of that storm the months you spent in bed crying. White out we were borne into light. the what-the-hell serial screwer, his nasty sharkskin complaints, his welting words delivered with a side of smile. Hope you live long enough The only people who like wars and parades to read his end. Living still the best revenge. are the ones that don’t have to be in them, he wrote. Mother, father, sister, brother: they haunt us every day, their stories written in needlepoint kneeler, carved drake, serving spoon, turkey platter, I imagine his life after String of Pearls, Cheshire Cat, cribbage board. years of tending burns Seek immortality. Get paid five hundred dollars and patching limbs write Appalachian Spring. Bowdlerize Shakespeare, Saigon and Nha Trang invent the merciful guillotine, write about one day’s as the opposite -- June journey, hold vials of radium in scarred fingers. a quiet retreat into the tunnel Visit the nursing home, spoon out puree: potatoes/ one light off at a time pears/ peas. Swear you would rather die than live a symphony turned into a single note like this. As if you had the choice. Door A or Door B? then black out. If you don’t remember what these pills are for, take them. No one asks if you want to be dragged or walk straight into the twilight, flag draped, your cross in Flanders, your name etched in Memorial black or eroded to nothing in a farm field. Think of yourself as a Rose Medallion plate, used After Hearing Esther Speak for a sandwich here, a canape there, fallen, broken on Beauty as a Path to God repaired, slammed on a table, chipped. Hope to have journey enough for one lifetime. in the colors I want to linger longer copper, pewter, silver, womb to shroud II to find the glory, grace and wonder Obits: Shrink Lit, lives writ small, robbed of blueberries, in the colors I want to linger longer fifteen minute walk, Beethoven, afternoon delight. Wrapped up. Tombstone marked. precious seconds with song and singer Sixty four years, eleven months, eight days. give me more than I think I’m allowed in the colors I need to linger longer copper, pewter, silver, womb to shroud VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 7 Poetry by Carolyn Cecil

Precarious Wailing through Stoneleigh

I stand, Railing against him, without you glued weeping, to my posterior, driving till I could not see- finally, without you parking at the Seven Eleven, inhabiting me; finally. every decision ours to make, Wailing to the windows not yours alone. of my car, to my dashboard, Twenty-eight the steering wheel. and you are free. Beating my fists. I won't be you, nor you me. Fury at my broken heart, Enough years my stupidity; of being in so clear everyone each other's skin. could see, My fence is built. but me.

Taller now; I watch, but won't lean in.

Old Skin

A woman's chest, lovely when fresh; now wrinkly, pockmarked, like days-old fruit.

Soft, spongy, leading to the neck; skin hanging loosely, like chicken skin.

Stop wearing chest-baring v-necks, exposing languorous lines. Why flaunt them?

Jiggly breasts, pushed together humps, lifted, wired for artificial plunge.

Just lie there, unfurled, free from clasps; enjoy the swirl of old skin, the belly of a fair lass.

VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 8 Lust, Murder, & Money: Scott Whitaker Reviews Robert N. Friedland's The Second Wedding of Doctor Geneva Song

Robert N. Friedland's The Second Wedding of Doc- passive more gentle lover to Deri and Geneva. His relation- tor Geneva Song, erotically charges through Canadian Chi- ship with Deri is not unknown to Geneva, who also has lovers nese social-scapes, leaving broken hearts, bodies and wisps of of her own to explore. The characters here exhibit a kind of wickedness be- passion that is hind. Friedland's restrained and been here before, bland in public, in his short story hiding aggres- collection Faded sion and desire Love, where he behind a veneer deftly explored of conservatism, the psycho- but all the time sexual relations fighting to come of Caucasian to the surface, to men and Chinese be outed. And women; its a Friedland ex- territory Fried- plores a Google land knows by search worth of the back of his sexual scenarios, hand. This time focusing on both the narrative the physical and twists around psychological the inner con- effects on the flicts of Dr. Ge- relationships neva Song, and that intertwine. her Spirit Sister, Sister Deri. The The people in names are nota- Friedland's ble for Geneva, is world are a at first a mar- lusty, sadistic riage of two cul- lot, all manners tures at peace, of mental and but one eventu- sexual degrada- ally into darker tion heighten unsettling wa- the suspense of ters. And sister Geneva's rape, is, well a sister the subsequent of many defini- murder of the tions, adding to rapist, and the the Friedland's investigation motif of duality; that follows. opposing forces The plot is well that sometimes designed, but yin, and some- spare, serving times yang. more of a link between psycho- Sam Victor, a sexual conflicts , character from Friedland's Friedland's strong suite. Faded Love, Geneva's older — SW detached hus- band, serves as VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 9 The Dream Geni: 13th century gets modernized in A. W. DeAnnuntis' Master Siger's Dream a review by Scott Whitaker

If you like your 13th philosophy and philosophers stoned, can't kill an idea, you can't control everyone. drunk, and mish-mashed with anachronistic technology ala steam-punk, oh yes, and Siger bounces, drinks, emeshed in papal and and fornicates his way religious conspiracies around Europe, investi- then A.W. Deannutis' gating the death of Master Siger's Dream is Brother Thomas up your cobblestone (Aquinas), all while alley. moving and shaking with the elite minds of Deannutis turns histori- the 13th century; the cal fiction upside down Pope a shadowy by introducing us to his menance, or ally, his brilliant, bumbling, and eyes and ears every- libidinous Master Siger where. of Brabant, whom I had no idea was actually a Deannutis clearly has person, much less a fun taking shots at revolutionary of philoso- man's desire, man's phy who pissed off the folly, the church, intel- Catholic church. Siger lectualism, and his own was guilty of teaching prose. He announces “double truth,” saying and declares his chap- that one idea could be ters, and with grand found true via reason gesture too; as grand as and the opposite the ideas themselves through faith; whatever were in the 13th cen- that means. It is argued tury. It's hard not to see and accepted that Siger the author winking at was as important as us throughout the nar- Thomas Aquinas to rative as the 13th cen- Western faith. Now I'm tury is meshed with the no philosopher, but the cacophony and pornog- tale Deannutis dreams raphy of the 21st cen- up makes the heady tury. intellectualism go down like candy. One of my And there is a dream, favorite moments has beyond the imagery and Siger meeting Pope imagination of the ana- Nicholas at the golf crhonistic landscape, course to discuss man- one where nuns are kind's thirst and search S&M Goddesses, and for enlightenment while torture poor Siger with they smoke pot. Some- the truths of his future, times the anachronistic the future of the imagery is an excuse for church, and even his Deannutis to pluck and own influence. And like plow ideas around via the dream, the novel is the character's dialogue, and that's part of the truth the author a tease, flirting both with entertainment and burden of great wants us to see; ideas matter, pushing boundaries matter. The ideas, and that's part of the point; how can one really know raw basics of much of what Siger and his contemporaries argue anything? over can be seen bubbling up in the Occupy movement: you — SW VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 10

(TBR Around the World from page 1) George L. Chieffet, Francesca Ciantar, Ross Clark, Denise Clemons, Chad Clifton, Brian Collins, Anne Colwell, Gail locations in Australia. You know who you are — our profound- Braune Comorat, Katie Cotugno, Toni Tapp Coutts, Mike est thanks for your having made The Broadkill Review one of Crane, Debby Creasey, Cecil Cross, Louise D’Arcy, Leah the most widely distributed literary publications on the planet! Darrow, Alan Davies, Robert Hambling Davis, Holly Day, Here’s a brief sampling of some of the locations of hadrow deforge, William Dennis, Faith De Savigne, Ann Lau- writers whom we published from around the globe. From the rella DiFrangia, Rafi ud Din, Elizabeth Dougherty Dolan, USA: Alabama: Gadsden, Northport, Arizona: Scottsdale, John Donne, Jane Downing, Buck Downs, György Duma, California: Sacramento, Westwood, Santa Ana, Escondido, John Egan, Lisa Ellis, Russell Susumo Endo, Kathleen Colorado: Boulder, Connecticut: Danbury, Delaware: Mil- Epelde, John Elsberg, Neal Fandek, Betsey Farlow, Padgett ton, Lincoln, Dagsboro, Wilmington, Arden, Seaford, Rehoboth Farmer, Elisa Fernandez-Arias, Marcia Hibbs Finn, Kieran Beach, Newark, Milford, Georgetown, Dover, Millsboro, Finnane, Craig Foster, R. N. Friedland, Martin Galvin, Shea Smyrna, Bridgeville, Claymont, Lewes,. Florida: Fort Lauder- Garvin, Shea Garvin (a), Dennis Geraghty, Pennie Gioffre dale, Jacksonville, Illinois: Chicago, Indiana: Lafayette, Indi- (a), Howard Gofreed, Sid Gold, Patricia L. Goodman, Jose anapolis, Iowa: Grinnell, Maryland: Chevy Chase, Hyatts- Gouveia, Shelley Grabel, Stephen Graf, Joe Guderian, Philip ville, Olney, Annapolis, Leonardtown, Upper Marlboro, Poto- Hammial, Roy Hammond, Gary Hanna, Farha Hasan, Wil- mac, St. Michaels, Salisbury, Ridgely, Baltimore, Silver liam Locke Hauser, Debbie Hegedus (a), Trevor Hensley, Spring, Cambridge, Takoma Park, Centreville. Massachu- Trevor Hensley (a), Wendy Fraser Hensley (a), George Her- setts: Boston, Barnstable, Truro, Michigan: Traverse City, bert, Tina Hession, Doris Hill (a), Tom Hillis, Elaine Hughes, Minnesota: Minneapolis, Missouri: Kansas City, New Arlene Humphrey, Kole Hunt, Donald Illich, Indigo, Hampshire: Warner, New Jersey: River Vale, Teaneck, Wendy Ingersoll, Joshua D. Isard, Janet Jackson, Bernard New York: Westfield, Brooklyn, Finger Lakes, Harlem, Cort- Jankowski, Bryan C. Johnson, Andee Jones, Kade Kahl, landt Manor, Binghamton, Ohio: Columbus, Oberlin, Akron, Kashkin, James Keegan, Maria Keene (a), Raja Khan, Mary- Oregon: Portland, Brookings, Pennsylvania: Philadelphia, anne Khan, Rob de Kok, David P. Kozinski, Peter Krok, Altoona, West Chester, York, Rosemont, Ligonier, South Maxine Kumin, Gerry LaFemina, Hiram Larew, Paul A. Carolina: Allendale, Centenary, Tennessee: Land Between Lavrakas, Ross T. Leasure, Steven Leech, Lenny Lianne, , the Lakes, Texas: Austin, San Antonio, San Marcos, Kerrville, Lyn Lifshin, Ray Liversidge, Emily Lloyd, Joseph LoGuidice, Virginia: Onley, Arlington, Alexandria, Roanoke, Washing- Georgina Luck, Edward M. Lukacs, Edward M. Lukacs (a), ton, D.C., Washington: Gig Harbor, West Virginia: Clarks- Franetta MacMillian, Franetta MacMillian (a), Laszlo An- burg, Wisconsin: Keshena. dras Magyar, Dawn Majewski, Thomas Martín, Mark Maru- From Australia: New South Wales: Milton, King’s sic, H. A. Maxson, David McAleavey, Jo McDougall, a. Cross, Sydney, Bathurst, Wagga Wagga, ACT: Canberra, Vic- mclean, Martin McLean, Nicholas Messenger, Linda Messick, toria: Melbourne, Yackandanda, Queensland: Brisbane Ma- James O’Neill Miller, Margot Miller, Mark Miller, Paul Milo, roochy, Northern Territory: Alice Springs, Barunga Indige- John Milton, Miles David Moore, Christopher Mulrooney, nous Community, Darwin, Katherine, Western Australia: Erin Murphy, Susan Murphy, Thom Wade Myers, Cary Nel- South Australia: Adelaide. son, John Matthew New, Amanda Newell, Tim Nicholson, From Canada: Quebec: Montreal, British Colum- Jenni Nixon, Leonie Norrington, Graham Nunn, Helen Ohl- bia: Vancouver, White Rock, Alberta: Athabasca. From New son, Matthew Overstreet, Michael Page, Joyce Parkes, Linda Zealand: South Island: Hokitika, Nelson. From Ireland: Pastan, Mary Pauer, Richard Myers Peabody, Rebecca Pen- Dublin. From England: Newcastle-upon-Tyne, London. From nington, Simon Perchick, Chris Pike, Robert Pinsky, Heather Pakistan: Karachi, from Hungary: Budapest, from China: Poultney, J. C. Pound, Walter Raleigh, Michael Rauh, Tho- Shanghai, and from Viet-Nam, and Belgium. mas Reiter, Carlos Reyes, Jeff Richards, Brett Riley, Elisavi- We’re pretty proud of providing a world-wide forum etta Ritchie, James Michael Robbins, Kim Roberts, Raphael for writers who deserve to be read! Here’s a comprehensive Rosa (a), D. I. Sanders, Julia Schaffer, J. G. Schear, Nicola list of their names. Is yours here? If so, the Editors of The Scholes, Janice Lynch Schuster, Irma Seabury (a), Derrick Broadkill Review thank you for helping make our first five Sherwin, David Shreve, Jr., Rachel Simon, Brock Simpson, years such a great experience! Some appear with an (a) after Heather Lin Smith, Ian C. Smith, Edmund Spenser, David their name, noting their status as artists whose work has ap- Stavenger, John Milbury Steen, Samuel Patterson Stoddard, peared in our pages; some appear twice, as a result, talented Stonecarver, Elisabeth Stoner, Jim Stratton, Ray Succre, writers who are also artists! Dorothy Swoope, Lesley Synge, Sandra Thibodeaux, Curtis Clayton Adams, Dante Alighieri, Manolis Aligizakis, Tompkins, Dennis Vickers, Paul Weagraff, Lance Weller, Joseph Parke Allen, Susanne Bostick Allen, Cheryl Somers John West, Mary L. Westcott, Elmslie W. Wharton (a), Scott Aubin, Mark Baechtel, Phillip Bannowsky, Michael Barber, Whitaker, Annie White, Kelley Jean White, William D. White Edgar Bee, Nina Bennett, Andrew Bertaina, Zoe Bishop, Mi- (a), J. T. Whitehead, Michael Whitting, Les Wicks, Irene chael Blaine, William Blake, Paul Blakeford, Linda Blaskey, Wilkie, Mandi Faye Wilson, Cecilia Woloch, Ernie Worm- Jan Bowman, Jonathan Bragdon (a), Chris Broadribb, Austin wood, Robert Wynne, Bob Yearick, and Jennifer Yu. 239 Brown, Betsy Brown, Bleecker Brown, Fleda Brown, James C. writers and artists have found an audience through the v. D. Brown, Jamie Brown, Randall Brown, Sarah Browning, pages of The Broadkill Review! Carol Bruce, Todd Budd , Martin Burke, Philip Calderwood, Our thanks to ALL of the fine writers and artists Nancy A. Caldwell, Geraldine Caliri, Kriserin Canary, Ashley who have submitted to The Broadkill Review, whether we Capes, Gaylene Carbis, Rebekah Carlsen, Cyrus Cassells, published your work or not! Carolyn Cecil, Shamira Cerff (a), Sherry Gage Chapelle, —The Editors VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 11

VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 12 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 13 Scott Whitaker Reviews The Eleventh Plague

Post apocalyptic novels are modern westerns; civiliza- Violet Green) is Jenny Tan. Tan's Chinese birth, and her tion stripped bare, human beings struggle to walk the line of adoption by the Green's have made Tan a violent combustible humanity and brutality, just to survive one more day. The figure; a reminder of the enemy of last war, the creators of the bleakness of the environment, and the emotional ends to P-11, the plague that wiped out most of the planet. Tan is which the characters are pulled, can make the post apocalyptic fiery; donned in her Chinese army jacket, sparking fire, liter- western stern and at best elegiac; somehow touching and hor- ally and figuratively every where she pops up. They are well rifying. Jeff Hirsch's debut young adult novel The Eleventh matched, Quinn, and Tan, her sharp anger is a nice undercut Plague manages both in the to Quinn's reserved nature. And bare dangerous post-P Eleven Tan wishes nothing but to leave world, where slavers hunt survi- Settler's Landing and roam the vors and salvager's scour the world; her envy of Quinn's countryside for trade-able knowledge draws her to him. goods; the Little House on the Part of the message Prairie world of Settler's Land- Hirsch imparts is that human ing, a place of hope, the one beings work better together than room schoolhouse, and possible apart. Tan and Quinn quickly love and acceptance, shimmer- become the catalyst to war with ing like a desert hallucination. the mysterious neighboring Fort Stephen Quinn's inter- Leonard when they play a prank nal conflict is one of paternity, on the Henry's, Settler's Land- is he more like his father, ro- ing's version of the rich, and pos- mantic and willing to risk his sibly evil, cattle baron. The life to help strangers, or like his Henry's convince the community grand-father, bottling up emo- to hire Slavers to take out Fort tion and willing to do anything Leonard. Quinn and Tan, man- to survive? It's a fine line for age to turn the moral tide of Quinn to walk. His father's good some of the community, and a nature gets them in trouble battle breaks out against the with slavers early on, and for a slavers and Settler's Landing. It while the narrative is a page- is in the battle that Quinn and turning chase, and Quinn finds Tan prove to be true members of himself alone, his father seri- the community, and help both ously injured; his own finger on defeat the slavers and also unite his grand-father's rifle, debating with Fort Leonard. The end of if he should kill a stranger. the novel offers redemption for And when danger turns the town, and for Quinn, who into opportunity, Quinn almost becomes a teacher of sorts, a chooses his grand-father's line popular figure with the children, of thinking, at first refusing while Tan gets to roam wild on help from strangers, but eventu- horseback scouting the wilds for ally he giving in; hoping strang- people, danger, adventure. ers can offer “a quiet place. A home.” In the end, it's a novel about acceptance. Quinn can The dangers of Settler's Landing, a gated community accept his new home, and be in his own skin for once, free from complete with a school, Victorian homes, fields of crops, live- the ghosts of his father and grand-father, and Tan is finally stock, and a frontiersman's appreciation for baseball and a accepted as wild wanderer, restless, rootless, and appreciated good book, lie in the grass. The folks there cautious, but opti- for her nature instead of being the town puzzle, the painful mistic, as if an Indian war party could pop out of nowhere. reminder of the past. And Stephen Quinn gets to be a teenager, and learns what it's Hirsch's debut novel is an angst ridden adventure like to be a part of something. But that's his real rift, he's an romp, part of the surging young adult market that's shredding outsider and his instincts scream for him to steal, run; leave the blueprint on what in the past has been the frontier of the quiet homes for the wastelands he knows so well. young adult fiction. Part of what keeps him in Settler's Landing, beside his father's health (he's nursed by Quinn's “adopted” mother, — Scott Whitaker VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 14 A City of Ghosts By Steven Leech

Several months ago the publisher of The Broadkill today: family life, lifestyle, religion, literature and pop culture. Review asked if I might consider producing a site map of Yet there’s a bigger story. It’s the story of a city at a turning places of literary interest. Initially I thought this might be a point in history. It is a comment on the Progressive Era be- good idea. Because I had been developing a keen curiosity cause he examines it through the prism of the age before it. It about the legacy of Wilmington’s history of jazz, and because was an age of laissez faire, those values and sentiment still I felt that literature and jazz seem to go well together be- imbibing those flavors from old southern chivalry, steeped in cause, at least, their histories were contemporary, I consid- the works of Walter Scott, Fenimore Cooper, Hawthorne, and ered doing a site map that contained both. Ulysses Grant’s Memoirs. People in Wilmington were not read- I began by listing locations, first the homes where ing Whitman and Poe, if indeed many even heard of them. different authors, poets, and musicians had lived. Then I Certainly there was a boho somewhere lurking in some cul- listed other locations like schools, clubs and other places of tural crevice of Wilmington reading Poe and Whitman. For the business like bookstores. After listing about a couple dozen majority who had ushered in the 20th century this was an “age sites, it dawned on me how unviable a site map of this type of confidence.” would be. Canby wrote The Age of Site maps are made for Confidence at a time after The Pro- tourists or interested persons as a gressive Age had fallen into the pit tool, but I found there would be of The Great War, and after the taw- little or nothing to actually see. dry age of The Roaring 20s. The The home of jazz great Clifford Great Depression was obstructing Brown is still a vacant lot. The the careers of many emerging lite- home of Alice Dunbar-Nelson had rati who first flourished thanks to been replaced with an office build- the cultural boost provided by the ing. I-95 runs through the block Progressive Era. where the Wertenbakers had At the onset of The Great grown up. Ellerslie, where F. Scott Depression many Wilmington lite- and Zelda Fitzgerald had lived, rati moved to New York City to con- had been torn down decades ago, a tinue their careers, surviving with plaque installed on the former pop novels and journalism. Canby home of James Whaler, Wilming- never forgot his roots even though ton’s most successful 20th century he was one who went to New York poet, had been removed by the and found success. He founded The owner. The Wilmington location of Saturday Review of Literature, Friends’ School, where nearly all which could be found on most news- successful early 20th century Wil- stands. He wrote books about Tho- mington authors had at least in reau and Whitman and was consid- part attended, had decades ago ered among the most preeminent of moved to an affluent suburb leav- reviewers and cultural commenta- ing its former Wilmington location tors toward the middle of the 20th still a largely vacant lot. Many century, and he was the father of famous clubs, like the Club Baby Wilmington’s literati. His house is Grand and The Spot, that made now someone’s personal property, Wilmington’s jazz history so nota- unless its been turned into an apart- ble have become the victims of “urban renewal.” The very ment house in which case it’s someone’s private property. The street on which Daisy Winchester had her speakeasy doesn’t house belonging to Christopher Ward is nearby, but Ward did even exist anymore. For those few places that Wilmington’s not leave Wilmington. He remained to write histories in retire- literati frequented, the most well known –– if indeed “well ment. Ward’s fiction was beginning to wither into the throes of known” is even applicable –– was the Greenwood Book Store, the Great Depression. Wilmington poet James Whaler went but I challenge anyone to tell me where it had been located. away and became a professor, which is a profession that occu- In 1934 Wilmington author Henry Seidel Canby pub- pied Canby for many years. Even Canby’s wife, who is loosely lished The Age of Confidence (Farrar & Rinehart). In it Canby portrayed in Canby’s only novel, Our House (1919, MacMillan) examines life in Wilmington during the turn of the 20th cen- was a successful poet after she moved to New York, having her tury. Locally, one can tell by his name he’s a part of a large work published in Scribner’s, The New Yorker, and The Satur- and old family in Wilmington. Canby should know. In the day Review of Literature. Marion Canby’s poetry is collected in book he gives thorough perspective on subjects still relevant High Mowing (1932 Houghton Mifflin). (continued, next page) VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 15 (continued from previous page) In Wilmington we had, at one time in the 1920s, more than a half dozen successful novelists living in or near Wil- mington, including F. Scott Fitzgerald. All but Fitzgerald are now ghosts gathering dust on those library shelves where their work might be found. The Progressive Era ended with the World War and the Bolshevik Revolution, but two aspects of its legacy contin- ued in the 1920s. The first, which didn’t work, was Prohibi- tion, and which helped launched the “Lost Generation.” The other was Women’s Suffrage, which did work. By the time Canby wrote The Age of Confidence, Delaware Avenue in Wil- mington, where he and Christopher Ward had lived, was a ghost of its former self. While others of Wilmington’s literati – –Alice Dunbar-Nelson, Charles and Peyton Wertenbaker, Anne Parrish and James Whaler –– left town, Canby’s book was no more than a reminder of a city that once was, and was filling up with ghosts. As the 1930s developed, however, the power of the music being made on Wilmington’s eastside ushered in a new cultural era. Jazz was being heard and played and attracting the attention of the jazz world. Great jazz artists from Wil- mington like Betty Roché, Clifford Brown and Lem Winchester would be propelled into the “big time.” This time it was not The Great Depression that ended an era, but some racist and faulty idea from the post Worlf War II era called “urban re- newal.” The wholesale destruction of an entire section of Wil- mington nearly destroyed our city’s jazz community. Here are the ghosts I still see in Wilmington, when I see someone carrying a case for a musical instrument, or a familiar figure standing on a doorstep in a building no longer there, or in a plate glass window where once a jazz club or bookstore or gallery once stood. This vision of ghosts is super- imposed upon all the amnesia inflicted by those politicians and developers who think as little about how the changes they’re making of our city today will affect us all tomorrow as they think little about how little the contribution from the past still haunts Wilmington. Then again, maybe I’m the only one who is haunted, but I’d rather be haunted than drowning in a sea of ignorance and amnesia. — SL

http://www.oldwilmington.net/maps/wilmington-1920.jpg VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 16 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 17 OCCUPY POETRY: Scott Whitaker Reviews the Poetry of Eric Greinke

For decades poet, small press innovator, and critic Eric a stick-it to the English teachers of academia rhetoric) and he's Greinke has been working in poetry and with poetry, that is to seen it all, and the essays here serve to open Grienke's life long say writing, publishing it, and probably most importantly, ques- dialogue with poetry to his audience. tioning the aesthetics that makes up the craft of verse, free or no. Greinke's politics are on display in his newest volume Poetry is everywhere. It happens. The internet has given of poetry, Traveling Music, which is aptly named, for the poetry the micro presses the ability to challenge the traditional univer- Greinke's writes is like a well worn country blues record; quiet sity publishing house stranglehold on words. Art is thriving in natural moments, and lightning snarls of foot stomping passion. the world, and very little of it resembles what the industry deems Greinke balances his voice between working class and old man is quality poetry. Before his essays, I had not read Greinke be- mystic, perhaps evoked by the nature he captures, or the haiku fore, which is part of problem Greinke discusses in the essays inspired poems “Lunar The Potential of Poetry. Part of modern poetry's problem is dis- Fog,” “Japanese Bones,” tribution and publication. If you are a self published poet the and “Deep Moorings,” industry (the university system) assumes you are a hack, and if among others. one doesn't write the cookie cutter creative writing workshop Greinke's knowl- poem...then well, sorry Charlie, you're out of luck, you don't win edge of quiet natural scenes our annual press open competition. Poets exist in small galaxies is honed, such as in of small town academia, writing groups, coffee house gangs, and “Shadows” where yes, universities. To score a national book contract and/or a “Blueberries/Grow in cedar reading tour is equivalent to joining the industry, which for better swamps/Favored by the or for worse, is the face of bears.” The poet is at home quality, or what passes for in nature, and in the prose quality in poetry. Greinke poem “Kayak Lessons” argues that the very na- passes down lessons of liv- ture of these houses and ing with the natural world, institutions narrow the how to live, and of course scope of poetry . It all how to paddle a kayak. grows in on itself, and “Direction,/ concentration, like a rat king, its hard for perception. You become the one beast to escape the paddle...” knots of the others. And His voice is com- the internet has exploded fortable with many tropes, not just natural ones. The section the self publishing and “Mild Violence” uses the metaphors of movie house monsters to micro specialty publish- address the monsters of our modern day. Media junkies become ers, where Greinke ar- the snatched bodies of alien pods, and the bride of Frankenstein gues, is probably where is a spoiled bridezilla princess, the Vampires are all the crooked the next visionary will and corrupt that run the world's machinations. come from; a loner work- The final section, Persona, is elegiac and sparse, a ing with words, words, world of roadkill, “ancient/pockmocked battlefield” and words. You see, Greinke “Galaxies/Hearts of light/Years away.” Greinke's world is im- champions the poetic printed with a touch of surrealism; a bit of absurdity poking out challenge, defying critics like a clown's nose at stark reality. who look for “accessibility” in poetry, willing and wanting to In his essay “The Potential of Poetry” Greinke lays out play with language. The potential is there. ten concepts he sees more potential for in our collective poetic For Greinke, poetry is spiritual, and he aptly describes future, which include, but are not limited to, the use of multiple what happens with good poetry “a poem doesn't happen on a personae, real time reportage, and non-linear sequencing, areas page. The reader is the poet” and based on the consciousness of Grienke explores, practicing what he preaches. the audience the poem happens. And that's the real message Greinke brings to his work. Greinke's been around for a while, knocking back po- Live your art. Exercise it. Go outside and play. etry and promoting the self published anti-establishmentnt poetry movement (many of the essays share an anti-McPoem snarl, and — Scott Whitaker VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 18 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 19

VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 20 Name This Writer!

Here at The Broadkill Review we recently uncovered a dusty box of old daguerreotypes (and other photo- graphic relics of a pre-digital age) and will challenge readers to name the writer whose image we reproduce here. In each case it will be a writer whose work we have featured in our pages. Send your responses to [email protected] and put “photo identification” (or some such) in the subject line. The first correct respondent will receive a free copy of one of the Broadkill Press’s chapbook titles. Obviously, the subject of the photograph is not eligible, and once you’ve won a chapbook, please wait an- other six months before you try again! VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 21 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 22 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 23 Now Available from The Broadkill Press

Constructing Fiction is a gift to the young or would-be writers of short stories and novels. In plain, no-nonsense prose, Jamie Brown takes the reader for a walk through the world of fiction writ- ing—avoiding the alleys and dead-end streets that so often lure new writers with promises of short- cuts. Here is advice that all writers—those young in the work, and old hands— can actually use.

— H. A. Maxson

Constructing Fiction is a must for green writers looking to cut their teeth with short fiction, espe- cially for those who over- think their prose, their process. From notes on character names to telling Constructing Fiction the author to trust the $6.00 paper, 76 pages subconscious and to “get out of the way,” Brown, ISBN 978-0-9826030-8-6 like Frak O’Hara, dares the The Broadkill Press writer to go “on your 104 Federal Street, nerve.” Milton, DE 19968 (Direct bulk order inquiries to: [email protected]) — Scott Whitaker VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 24 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 25 The Care and Feeding of Your Writer Work Habits by Jan Bowman

Happy New Year! By now you’ve likely started writ- 3. Set up a “clean, well-lighted” space somewhere ing the correct year on your checks and bills. And this is a in your world for your writing. Don’t pay bills good time for writers to commit to stronger work habits. Car- or fold laundry or watch television there, if at ing for your work habits requires thoughtful planning and all possible. Make it as inviting and efficient as regular reinforcement, if you hope to develop a professional you can, given your life and its obliga- commitment to your personal growth. So I offer a few tips tions. Add all the needed tools of your craft that help me and perhaps something here will encourage and whether you write with computer, pen or a renew you. Crayola Crayon in your favorite color. Don’t check your email or take phone calls in your 1 Give yourself the gift of writing time. Find space during your dedicated writing time. Be time - at least 10-20 minutes at a set time shamelessly guilt-free about this commitment each day and write in your idea journal. If to your writing. It is important work and if you don’t have one, buy one and get started. you’re lucky enough to be chosen for it, remem- Finding time requires you to dance around ber it makes no difference where you begin, or the “significant others” in your life who if sometimes the fits and starts of life interrupt need you, but it is possible to do this. Make your day, BUT it is important that you proceed. a promise to yourself and honor it as you would an appointment or meeting. Don’t be Find your own best work habits over time and make discouraged if some days it doesn’t work changes as you learn new things about yourself as a out. Just do better the next day or the next. writer. Some people can get going on a writing project and Get up half an hour earlier or go to bed half nothing short of an earthquake will pull them away, but most an hour later. Watch an hour less of televi- of us need to impose some planned effort, some discipline or sion. Honor this time and tell your beloved routine; once that’s established - you will not rest comfortably - “others” about your commitment and ask if you haven’t done it. If you want to write you can take this them to help and respect your need for this. year to move yourself to that special place where you will not Also set aside a larger block of time every feel content without it, just like you will suffer some mild re- week – two or three hours at the very least - gret if you’ve not brushed your teeth or taken out the recycling that you go through your journal and begin can. to notice patterns in ideas that signal the Finally, it helps me to remember that mean old Doro- start of a larger writing project. And then thy Parker said, “Only a very mediocre writer is always at his begin. Set a reasonable time or word plan (her) best.” --- from the Portable Dorothy Parker for each of those longer sessions and if you can’t meet that goal, look at what you were — JB able to do - and set that as your goal - until you’re ready and able to do more. Know that your first draft of whatever you write is just the beginning. Sometimes you need to see what you’re writing in order to find out what it is you’re trying to say. That is okay.

2 Take a small pocket notebook with you as you go about your work, carpool, trav- els. Now and then you’ll see something that you will forget if you don’t make a quick note of it. Notice people and what they do. Shamelessly people-watch. Notice small moments of conflict and compassion. Or if you’re one of the totally wired people, dedi- cate a file/folder in your i-pad, i-phone or whatever electronic device that tries to rule your life. If you capture even a few brief words it is usually enough to spark a re- lated memory later. VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 26 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 27 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 28 “Poet Laureate”: What Does it Mean?

There have been court poets and imperial rhetors for nearly as long as we have records, though the actual official appointment of them to the title of “poet laureate” is relatively Consultants in Poetry to the Library of Congress modern, beginning in the 17th century. Originally, the term “Poet Laureate” meant “the person universally recognized to be 1937-1941 Joseph Auslander the greatest living poet,” or some such. In England it was an 1943-1944 Allen Tate honor that came with an annual stipend, a supply of port, and 1944-1945 Robert Penn Warren the requirement the holder of the office compose poems on spe- 1945-1946 Louise Bogan cial occasions as the monarch required. The poet laureate re- 1946-1947 Karl Shapiro mained the poet laureate until he died, as it is impossible to 1947-1948 Robert Lowell have more than one “greatest living poet” at one time. 1948-1949 Léonie Adams Nowadays the term no longer means what it once did, and has become a position for a fixed term nearly everywhere it 1949-1950 Elizabeth Bishop is used. At least they don’t kill the former poet laureate at the 1950-1952 Conrad Aiken end of their term. Most impressive in these lists is the number 1952-1956 William Carlos Williams of people, notable poets indeed, who turned down the position 1956-1958 Randall Jarrell when it was offered by the crown, especially Thomas Grey, 1958-1959 Robert Frost Walter Scott, William Morris, and Philip Larkin. 1959-1961 Richard Eberhart

1961-1963 Louis Untermeyer

UK Poets Laureate appointed by the Crown 1963-1964 Howard Nemerov 1964-1965 Reed Whittemore John Dryden (1668-88) 1965-1966 Stephen Spender Thomas Shadwell (1689-92) 1966-1968 James Dickey Nahum Tate (1692-1715) 1968-1970 William Jay Smith Nicholas Rowe (1715-18) 1970-1971 William Stafford Laurence Eusden (1718-30) 1971-1973 Josephine Jacobsen Colley Cibber (1730-57) 1973-1974 Daniel Hoffman William Whitehead (1757-85) 1974-1976 Stanley Kunitz (on the refusal of Thomas Grey) 1976-1978 Robert Hayden Thomas Warton (1785-90) 1978-1980 William Meredith (on the refusal of William Mason) 1981-1982 Maxine Kumin Henry James Pye (1790-1813) 1982-1984 Anthony Hecht Robert Southey (1813-43) 1984-1985 Reed Whittemore (interim) (on the refusal of Walter Scott) 1984-1985 Robert Fitzgerald William Wordsworth (1843-50) 1985-1986 Gwendolyn Brooks Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1850-92) (on the refusal of Samuel Rogers) Poets Laureate Consultants in Poetry Alfred Austin (1896-1913) (on the refusal of William Morris) 1986-1987 Robert Penn Warren Robert Bridges (1913-30) 1987-1988 Richard Wilbur John Masefield (1930-67) 1988-1990 Howard Nemerov Cecil Day-Lewis (1968-72) 1990-1991 Mark Strand Sir John Betjeman (1972-84) 1991-1992 Joseph Brodsky Ted Hughes (1984-1998) 1992-1993 Mona Van Duyn (on the refusal of Philip Larkin) 1993-1995 Rita Dove Andrew Motion (1998-2009) 1995-1997 Robert Hass Carol Ann Duffy (2009 to present) 1997-2000 Robert Pinsky 2000-2001 Stanley Kunitz Those who refused the appointment: 2001-2003 Billy Collins 2003-2004 Louise Glück Thomas Grey (1757) during the reign of George II 2004-2006 Ted Kooser William Mason (1785) during the reign of George III 2006-2007 Donald Hall Walter Scott (1813) during the reign of George III 2007-2008 Charles Simic Samuel Rogers (1850) during the reign of Victoria 2008-2010 Kay Ryan William Morris (1896) during the reign of Victoria 2010-2011 W.S. Merwin Philip Larkin (1984) during the reign of Elizabeth II 2011-present Philip Levine VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 29 “Things No One told Me that I Learned the Hard Way!” From a talk on getting published given to the Eastern Shore Writers Association

1) You’ve got to get out of your garrett. Here is a handy, short (and therefore wildly incomplete) list of A) Listen to other people read from their work. things NEVER to do. B) Perform your own work in public. C) Listen to the criticism you receive and don’t tell Never: the person offering the criticism why they are wrong or what you were trying to do. If they don’t 1) Never send your work out in hard copy on pastel paper, or understand what you were trying to do from the paper with pretty little illustrations of flowers or cats or work itself, you have failed. Jesus or Buddha.

2) You’ve actually got to write. Lots of people write a little 2) Never send your work out in hard copy on (I’m NOT kid and talk a lot about ding) scented paper. A) being a writer, and B) what they’ve written, and 3) Never write a gushing cover letter that praises the publica C) bitch about editors who don’t accept their work. tion if you’ve never actually seen it.

3) You’ve got to treat your work professionally. 4) Never indicate in your cover letter that you have never been A) When submitting your work it must be flawless, published before. This predisposes even the best editor to so proofread it. Fix typos, misspellings, grammar. reject the work. B) Do not hit “auto-correct” or “correct all”! This will create more problems than it solves. 5) Never tell the editor about your particular religious orienta tion. This is NOT “true confessions” time. The work should 4) Have something to say which moves you. speak for itself, and if you’re sending inspirational, relig iously-themed stories to a magazine you’ve never read, 5) Find an editor you can “marry.” Literary magazine editors don’t be surprised if you never hear back. love to publish authors whose work they like and which is of a consistent quality. By all means send to other lit pubs 6) Send everything you ever wrote just because the editor as well, but curry that relationship and don’t forget to send kindly offered to look at more of your work. your work to an already appreciative audience. 7) Send work from an e-mail address like “daddysluvchild@...” 6) Inspiration isn’t perfect. Once you’ve gotten the first draft or “studleydoright@...” or “Iluvhellokitty@...” or ANY ie- down, the real work of writing begins. mail address that says you are not to be taken seriously.

7) Don’t overcook it. Think of a scale which runs between the 8) Send your work in hard copy without a self-addressed, two extremes of immediacy and rough to static and pol stamped envelope, referred to by writers as an “SASE.” ished. 10) Send your SASE without sufficient postage for return of 8) Don’t get stuck or captured in the style of your favorite the manuscript, or directions to recycle it. author or period.

9) Maintain clarity of thought and sound. Publishers hear as well as read.

10) Avail yourself of all of the available resources! These in- clude your public library, the internet, market guides such as the Dustbooks International Directory of Literary Publi cations and Little Presses, Writers Market, Poets Market, Fiction Writers Market, Novelists Market, books by writers on writing (there are thousands), and groups of like- minded writers who wish to meet and critique each other’s works.

VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 30 Four Poems by William D. Cecil, Sr.

Before a Storm Breaks in Midsummer First Snow

Out swings a limb A fall of whiteness piled up everywhere brushed by the wind. the other day. Out slips a bird, On walks and long arms of trees. hardly disturbed It snowed much more than we had hoped by sharp swishing and then the sun. of leaves, wishing To no avail--it only snowed again. their time had come-- Days after, the sun tried once more their flight begun. but found the way prepared for turning snow to slush. Living brooks and trees had moved and warmed the frozen crusts the house roofs, and rolling wheels and men and trodden leaves. Why the sun only encompassed all which had been done before.

E. Pittsburgh 1933

Deciding to go home because it means so much wedging things together with a shirt on top. On Passing Christ Church Hurrying to the bank with a wage check tightly fastened in the billfold Bleak stones of my wallet. pointed mortar concrete blocks Waiting on the corner discolored bricks for an interurban car street after street staring at the dirt down and around: blowing over my feet. I have no home to-night. Wondering why old men Ah! What is this,-- gather for pleasant chats a cemetery on filthy city streets downtown! when it's hell for me. How convenient.

VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 31 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 32 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 33 Butterfly A short story by Maryanne Khan

On the last day of the month it threatened rain. Clouds glimmer of lights, a passing car, a bus perhaps, but it was temporarily held their breath and a butterfly—forewarned raining like a flight of Walkyrie now, the atmosphere opaque, because it had been listening—folded itself into the bark of a visibility reduced to zero as though a sodden tarpaulin had tree. All similarly attentive creatures, having heard the prom- been stretched across the middle distance. To his immediate ise of rain on the breeze, had taken shelter. The man, who had right, however, there appeared to be hole, a cave of some sort. not been listening to the sounds of the world, proceeded with He waded towards it and it was a large concrete pipe project- extreme caution. He had been endowed with several senses, ing horizontally from the banked earth. He stooped and found but now it was upon sight alone that he relied to calculate how a little girl sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. A much rain the clouds were about to release. If he had listened, dirty little girl who seldom washed her hair and who smelled like the butterfly, he would have heard the sound of a sky of drains or pondweed. stretched tight as a drum. ‘Go away!’ she said. As do men who are deaf by choice, he relied on empirical He mentioned that it was raining, at which she simply evidence and now that it had begun to rain in earnest, had stared at him whilst exploring the inside of her nose with her there been someone with him, he would have remarked that thumb. such heavy rain was most unusual for this time of year. He He asked her to move over and make room. walked on, acutely observant—here, indents in puddles as if ‘You can’t fit,’ she said and stretched her skinny legs in from machine-gun fire, there, a submerged bottle top glinting front of her. like Spanish gold in the gutter, and there, a weed that had He wondered what kind of parents allowed their children strained up out of a crack, now bent double in the swelling tor- to roam the streets. It was their duty to ensure that their off- rent, clinging on. A leaf borne on the rivulet running down the spring, vagrant or not, were clean at least. middle of the road swept past, a leaf-shaped boat, miraculously Hair streaming into his eyes from where he had carefully not filling with water, miraculously not sinking, spinning on combed it over the bald patch that morning and fearing that the current. It would have been absurd for the man to lie prone his skull might resemble a lop-sided haystack, he smoothed it in the road and wait to be borne away like the leaf and besides, back. He also remembered that children are more manage- his shoes were now soaked and his overcoat. He imagined able if one refrains from speaking to them from a great himself a drowned man, pockets full of water, his wallet having height. Crouching on his haunches, so that his face was al- floated away. most level with hers, he suggested that he was getting horri- There was no one about, so conversation was impossible bly wet and surely . . . and he was left to his own devices to explain why it was rain- The urchin flicked whatever she had found in her nose ing like this. The newspaper that morning had warned of noth- onto the side of the pipe. ing, so this was an unexpected event that had sailed fully- ‘So it’s a matter of life or death then,’ she said slyly. ‘You formed over the horizon, unpredicted and therefore not quite going to drown?’ real—a freak storm. ‘If it keeps raining, yes,’ he said. Nonsense he told himself, there must have been prior evi- ‘You mightn’t,’ she said. ‘It might stop. Besides, my dence. But like the tree falling in the forest, if no one had mother said never talk to strangers.’ known it was going to happen . . . He protested that he wasn’t that kind of stranger. Normally a level headed man, the sight of the flooded dis- ‘How do I know?’ she said. tance between himself and his home made him feel nibbles of ‘Listen here,’ he began, clutching his useless coat tight panic in his stomach and he remembered he needed to buy abound his sodden chest like a cold and shabby beggar. more rat-traps, the situation was getting out of hand. He won- ‘Where do you live, for example?’ she interrupted. dered if the flood would drown the rats in their warm little He gave his address. nests under the foundations and save him the trouble. Techni- ‘That’s not far from here,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you go cally, they were not his rats but a matter for the janitor who home?’ was supposed to tend to matters concerning common property. ‘But it’s raining,’ he said, lame. ‘The road’s flooded.’ They became his rats when they insinuated themselves into ‘If you started now for example, you could get there. You his apartment and left pellets of excrement, black, crunchy, on shouldn’t have come out in the first place, you know.’ the tiled floor of the bathroom. Wait and see, he told himself to Wetly regretting that he had, the man said, ‘If you let me quell the frisson of disgust the vagaries of rats had superim- come in, we can play a game or something.’ posed on the perils of his present situation—that of a man No reaction. walking through a flood. ‘We can get ice cream.’ It rained harder, slanting rain, needling, a hail of shot. He ‘It’ll only melt in the rain, stupid,’ she said. ‘Anyway, put his hand over his head like a man shielding himself with a how do I know you have actual money?’ newspaper. The water was now a sleek grey cat curling around She thrust out her hand, staring at him with the mis- his ankles. He stopped walking, scouring the road ahead for a trustful expression of one who has been (continued, p. 36) VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 34 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 35 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 36 (from page 33) duped, demanding proof. He felt in his pocket ‘She was right, see?’ the girl said, looking at him with for his wallet and handed it through the entrance of the pipe, triumph in her eyes. ‘If you trusted them you wouldn’t have the upper rim of which was gushing water over his wrist. Icy all this money for example.’ drips ran irritatingly down the hitherto dry inside of his She proceeded to count the notes, stacking them to one sleeve. She turned the wallet over in her hands and said ‘It’s side. He remained outside, soaking wet, wondering who pretty old.’ would hear her scream if he crawled in and she reacted un- He was about to say that it had been a gift but decided reasonably. against acknowledging the fact of this newly self-appointed The girl who smelled of pondweed and whose mother had Wallet Constabulary, who opened the wallet and spread it on taught her several useful things but not how to wash, was the floor like a book. now busy counting the notes aloud for a second time, transfer- ‘No licence,’ she observed as the rain fell and the butter- ring them one by one to a second pile. fly in its crack in the bark dreamed on and the man stood ‘There’s no such thing as eleventeen,’ he found himself helpless as still the water rose. saying. She shrugged, indifferent to his small-mindedness, ‘I don’t drive.’ and he realized that of course if one is crouching outside the ‘Then how can you prove you are you?’ She shook her only shelter available for miles around, one ought to shut up head. ‘Everyone knows you need proof.’ She leaned forward, and refrain from pointing out errors in nomenclature. It was scrutinizing. ‘Who’s this for example?’ hardly her fault she was ignorant. And putrid, he noted as She was jabbing a filthy finger that had most probably the smell of her wafted from the mouth of the hole in which explored the inside of a nostril into the face of his wife, which she sat. A guttersnipe, no more, no less. lead to a strong and immediate impulse on his part to snatch ‘Where did you get it?’ she said. the wallet back. After slapping that dirty little hand of ‘It’s mine, I saved it.’ yours—for example—he thought somewhat viciously. She tilted her head to one side and said, ‘My mother said ‘Well, who?’ it’s impossible to save money.’ ‘My wife,’ he said, and then feeling as though he had to He found this to be expected, poor people squander account for the fact that he now had no wife and hence no money shamelessly. He thought of the mother buying gin in a children and was therefore unused to having dealings with broken down unlicensed shop that exploited the poverty of them, he added, ‘She died.’ her kind. It was sad, but that was how things were. ‘Was she murdered?’ Remembering the murdered pretty girls, he suddenly She was squinting up at him, intensely curious, the thought, it’s not her fault. Here he was, face to face with the probing gaze of one who can tell she is being lied to in an in- evidence of something that he had stumbled upon for the sole stant. reason that her kind only emerged from the netherworld of ‘Of course not!’ poverty and into the open like rats in the rain. He thought of ‘She’s pretty enough.’ his rats in their holes and decided that instead of traps, he Pretty enough to be murdered? he wondered. What a would remove them humanely, perhaps lure them into shoe- most extraordinary thing for a child to say. Then he realized boxes and release them elsewhere. Pleased with himself, he with a shock that there it was, a prime example of a street tried to look humane and even penitent. child surrounded by the seedier crimes of which humanity is ‘What game can you play?’ she said. capable—a world in which pretty girls worked on the street ‘I’ll come in,’ he said, ‘and we’ll think of one.’ and got themselves murdered. Perhaps that was why she ‘This is a lot of money,’ she said, ‘how much do I get?’ paid no attention to her appearance, unlike most little girls ‘I’ll give you some if you promise to give it to your he had encountered. Those girls, he was forced to concede, mother,’ he said, uneasy at the thought that he might be fuel- were not facing the prospects of their appearance driving ling social problems by throwing money at a woman who them onto the streets, nor of ultimately being murdered as a would use it to buy gin or worse. result. ‘Can’t,’ the girl said, turning sullen. ‘In jail they won’t let ‘Come on,’ he said, his legs growing cramped from you.’ crouching. ‘Be a good little girl and let me in.’ She had not raised her face as she spoke. She added Nothing. She was scrutinizing the cracked photograph. quickly, ‘But I can have some.’ He said, ‘I’ll get you something, anything you want.’ He heard in her voice what he construed as hope. Sud- ‘No,’ she said. ‘My mother said never take things from denly he saw as if in a flash of inspiration that it was sheer strangers.’ destiny that he found himself here negotiating with a street ‘But if I’m talking to you, how can I be a stranger? If I urchin who had nothing—no mother, nothing at all, just look come in, we can be friends.’ at her! Blessed are the poor in spirit, he thought, for theirs is She looked at him with disdain, saying, ‘No we can’t.’ the kingdom of heaven. The thought confounded him, for who He was shocked that she should treat his offer of friend- was he to redress the wrongs of the world? Upon second ship with outright contempt, making him wonder why he had thought, surely he was truly blessed in comparison to this offered it in the first instance. urchin. Perhaps injustice was the fault of people like him- Having rejected him, she calmly emptied his wallet onto self—people who conducted decent enough lives yet remained the floor. With one diffident, grimy finger she slid a plastic shielded from the realities of the plight of others. People like rectangle towards him, simultaneously wiping her nose on him couldn’t help it; they had no idea what it was like to have her bare forearm. nothing. He remembered his own dear mother, God rest her ‘What’s this?’ soul, her delicate, veined hands as she brushed her hair or ‘A bank card.’ peeled carrots. His mother who had read him books and ‘My mother said you can’t trust no banks.’ taught him the correct way to hold a fork, who had made of He remained mute, wondering what business her him who he was. And he was suddenly tremendously and mother could possibly have with a bank in any case. deeply grateful for who she had been (continued next page) VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 37

(continued from previous page) and who he now was, recog- nizing that someone like himself, someone who acknowledged What they’re saying about shared humanity after all, could ultimately seek salvation. Surely this girl deserved his pity; surely he could elevate Maryanne Khan’s himself to offer pity to a poor, neglected, motherless child of the streets, daughter of a prostitute, to whom that money Domain of the Lower Air would make all the difference in the world. It was nothing to him—he would give it all. Perhaps buy her a hot meal and as a result, he would be saved. He would seek the shared warmth of her little cave and from there, a better self would “What if Clarice Lispector and Robert emerge, a more compassionate self, mindful of the needs of Walser spawned a love child obsessed others less fortunate—a butterfly from a chrysalis! ‘Are you hungry? You must be hungry,’ he asked, lifting with supernatural cargo cults? Would one knee to balance on the edge, leaning towards her, almost she step as lightly between good and supplicant, almost beatified, as though to take her in his arms and offer her the protection of his new, bright wings. evil as Maryann Khan does in these She lashed out with a foot to his chest that caught him off- eight secular tales of faith, loss, death, balance, causing him to fall backwards and crack his skull on the side of the concrete pipe as he went down. He lay uncon- disappointment, and lies? Herein, fear scious in the muddy water, wings broken, as she started to of change fuels naïve or shipwrecked count the money for a third time, waiting for the rain to stop. characters (insurance cheats, veggie

bitches, artists, ghosts, bad Santas, and other survivors), who inhabit ex- quisitely detailed ‘Our Towns’ in Italy, Australia, and the American South. Khan’s magical creations dance on the proverbial head of a pin, and they dance beautifully.” -- Richard Peabody, Editor Gargoyle Magazine

Maryanne Khan’s Domain of the Lower Air was Nominated for the 2011 National Book Critics Circle Fiction Award!

ISBN-139780982603048 (paper) $14.95 VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 38 Literary Birthdays

3819 North 13th Street November Arlington, VA 22201 [email protected] Nov. 1, 1880 Sholem Asch Nov. 2, 1808 Jules Amadee Barbey D’Aurevilly Nov. 3, 1794 William Cullen Bryant Nov. 5, 1735 James Beattie Nov. 8, 1806 Roger de Beauvoir Nov. 9, 1721 Mark Akenside Nov. 9, 1928 Anne Sexton Nov. 10, 1883 Olaf Jacob Martin Luther Bull Nov. 11, 1791 Jozsef Katona Nov. 11, 1922 Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. Nov. 13, 1850 Robert Louis Stevenson Nov. 15, 1897 Sacheverell Sitwell Nov. 16, 1889 George S, Kaufman Nov. 19, 1899 Allen Tate Nov. 20, 1757 Philippe S. Bridel Nov. 21, 1495 John Bale Nov. 22, 1877 Endre Ady Nov. 24, 1713 Laurence Sterne Nov. 26, 1883 Mihaly Babits Nov. 28, 1757 William Blake Nov. 28, 1793 Carl Jonas Love Almqvist Nov. 29, 1832 Louisa May Alcott No.v 29, 1781 Andres Bello Nov. 30, 1667 Jonathan Swift Nov. 30, 1813 Louise Victorine Ackermann

December

Dec. 1, 1935 Allen Konigsberg (Woody Allen) Dec. 2, 1885 Nikos Kazantzakis Dec. 6, 1886 Joyce Kilmer Dec. 6, 1788 Richard Harris Barham Dec. 7, 1873 Willa Cather Dec. 8, 1832 Bjornstjerne Martinus Bjornson Dec. 9, 1608 John Milton Dec. 11, 1824 Victor Balaguer Dec.12, 1766 Nikolai Karamzin Dec. 15, 1888 Maxwell Anderson Dec. 16, 1775 Jane Austen Dec. 21, 1849 James Lane Allen Dec. 21, 1804 Benjamin Disraeli Dec. 24, 1822 Matthew Arnold Dec. 25, 1665 Lady Grizel Baillie Dec. 26, 1853 Rene Bazin Dec. 28, 1872 Pio Baroja Dec. 30, 1865 Rudyard Kipling Dec. 31, 1747 Gottfried August Burger VOLUME 5, ISSUE 6 THE BROADKILL REVIEW PAGE 39

George Whitman 1913-2011

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Please send us your personal memories of George Whitman and Shakespeare and Company for our next issue. PAGE 40 A JOURNAL OF LITERATURE VOLUME 1, NUMBER 2

The Broadkill Review and its contents are © Broadkill Publishing Associates, LLC 2010 John Milton & Company Quality Used Books “Pre-owned books read just as well.” Address correspondence to: The Broadkill Review Bringing you the best in used books since the last c/o John Milton and Company Books 104 Federal Street, millennium — A proud sponsor of Milton, DE 19968 The Broadkill Review, featuring the best in Phone: 302-684-3514 e-mail: [email protected] contemporary writing. CONTRIBUTORS TO THIS ISSUE:

Linda Blaskey's work has appeared in numerous print and and Delmarva Review. Poems have been anthologized in online journals and in several anthologies. She has had a There’s No Place Like Here and Child of My Child: Poems short story dramatically presented by InterAct Theatre in and Stories for Grandparents. Her poem from the latter, Philadelphia and her manuscript, Farm, won the Dogfish “While Riding the Gloucester Hammock, I think about Head Poetry Prize and the Delaware Press Association's Mortality,” was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Away Communication Contest in poetry. She has been a past re- from her desk she also is the dramaturge for the Clear cipient of a fellowship grant for emerging artists from Dela- Space Theater Company, the long running facilitator of ware Division of the Arts. She is The Broadkill Review’s In- the Browseabout Book Club, a soprano in several local terview Editor. ensembles, and a grandmother. Forces that have kept her pen in her hand include the supportive Delaware poetry Jan Bowman’s work has appeared in Third Wednesday, community, the Delaware Division of the Arts, and her Minimus, Buffalo Spree (1997), Folio, The Potomac Review, husband, Bruce. Musings, Potato Eyes and others. Upcoming publication is scheduled for Big Muddy in Spring, 2012. She has attended Maryanne Khan Australian-born Maryanne Khan has the Iowa Summer Writing Festival Workshops, workshops lived in Europe, the United States and now Canberra, Abbott at Gettysburg College/The Gettysburg Review and at Australia. She has had works of short fiction and poetry Tinker Mountain Writers’ Conference at Hollins University. published in American and Australian literary journals, in She is working to complete a story collection. two anthologies, and her book I Never Lie to You was re- cently published in Australia. Her Family Guide to the Jamie Brown is Publisher/Editor of The Broadkill Review Hirschhorn Museum has been repeatedly re-published since 1997, and received an Honorable Mention in the Carolyn Cecil has been writing poetry for ten years. She American Museums Design Awards. She has completed attends a monthly poetry critique group in Baltimore where one novel and is at work on another. She is the author of she is based. Poems have been in The Broadkill Review, More Domain of the Lower Air (The Broadkill River Press, 2011) Stories website, Poet's Ink, and The Gunpowder Review. which was nominated for the National Book Critics Circle Award in Fiction. William D. Cecil Sr. was a lifelong educator and admirer of nature. He wrote poetry during the 1920s and 30s, while Steven Leech has been an editor of the Delaware literary living in the Pittsburgh area. The latter years of his life periodical Dreamstreets since 1980. He is also the pro- were spent in Western New York State where he researched ducer of the radio series Dreamstreets 26, which is pod- historical and biographical material on artists and was an casted from WVUD.org. His latest novel UNTIME was active member of the Shakespeare Symposium (a local dis- published in 2007 by Broken Turtle Books. cussion group). Scott Whitaker grew up on the Eastern Shore of Vir- Sherry Gage Chappelle is a native New Englander and a ginia. He attended Emerson College and was a creative lifelong reader and student. She received degrees from St. writing fellow at Boston University, where he worked at Lawrence University and Manhattanville College, as well as Agni Magazine. His poetry has appeared in PIF Magazine, attending non-degree programs in a number of other educa- The Coe Review, The MacGuffin, and others. In 2002 he tional settings, including Harvard. When she retired to Sus- was a NEA recipient of grant for his rock and roll adapta- sex County in the late nineties she joined the Rehoboth Art tion of Romeo and Juliet. In 2003, “A Third World Christ- League’s Writer’s Group. She has received Opportunity mas,” a comedy co-written with his wife, was a finalist in Grants from the Delaware Division of the Arts, and twice the Richmond Playwriting Competition. Finishing Line enjoyed their support in attending Writer’s Retreats organ- Press published his first chapbook, The Barleyhouse Let- ized by Delaware’s former Poet Laureate, Fleda Brown. She ters. He currently teaches literature, drama, and psychol- has been mentored as well by area poet/teachers Gerry La ogy at Pocomoke High School, and lives in Onley, VA with Femina and Piotr Florczyk. She has been a familiar face at his wife Michele, and his two sons. He was the winner of local readings, including Poetry At the Beach. Her poems the 2006 Dogfish Head Poetry Prize. He is a member of have appeared in Delaware Beach Life, the Broadkill Review the National Book Critics Circle.