Articles – Page 131 – Philadelphia Stories

Philadelphia Stories Junior Submission Guidelines

This page has moved thanks to a fabulous re-design by Loic Duros. Please read the great work of our young local authors here: http://www.philadelphiastories.org/junior/

Philadelphia Stories Junior

Philadelphia Stories, Jr., a division of the nonprofit Philadelphia Stories, is a new literary magazine by writers age 18 and under who currently live in Pennsylvania, Delaware, or Southern New Jersey (writers must still be within K-12 education or home-schooled). Philadelphia Stories, Jr. expands the Philadelphia Stories’ mission to develop a community of writers, artists, and readers through the magazine and education programs by bringing these opportunities to area young writers and artists.  

Philadelphia Stories, Jr. will include:

Fiction, creative nonfiction, poetry, and art from young writers and artists from the Delaware Valley.
Book reviews: book reviews of juvenile/YA titles; include link to Barnes & Noble or similar service that references reading level and age appropriateness of material. Reviewers can be youth or adults.
Interviews with young writers and writers for young readers.

Send your submissions! Click HERE for submission guidelines.

LAUNCH DATE: JANUARY 28: Please join us at the Musehouse Literary Arts Center for the launch of Philadelphia Stories, Jr., the new literary magazine by Philadelphia-area writers age 18 and under. We’ll have refreshments, live music, and readings by the young authors! Free. All ages welcome. Find out how your young writer or artist can get involved!

For more information about PS, Jr., contact psjr@philadelphiastories.org.

ATTENTION YOUNG WRITERS: The PS, Jr. blog wants you! To submit a writing prompt, book review, author profile, or writing & reading news, contact psjr@philadelphiastories.org.

*NOTE: Philadelphia Stories holds first-time publishing rights to work published in the magazine and on the website. The rights then revert back to the writer or artist.

The Sandy Crimmins National Prize for Poetry: Celebrating Risk and Invention in Poetry

[img_assist|nid=7110|title=Sandy Crimmins|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=66|height=100]Sandy Crimmins’ poem “Spring” appeared in the first issue of Philadelphia Stories in 2004 and she performed at our launch party. She served on the Philadelphia Stories board from 2005 to 2007. In the ten years since we debuted, Sandy’s voice and vision have fundamentally shaped Philadelphia Stories. Sandy was a poet who performed with musicians, dancers, and fire-eaters, and one of her proudest accomplishments was celebrating the work of her vibrant poetry community. In this spirit, Philadelphia Stories hosts the annual “Sandy Crimmins National Poetry Prize” to celebrate poets of all backgrounds, experience, and styles. Thanks to the generous support of Sandy’s family, we are proud to offer the following contest prizes:

● The first-place winning poet will receive a $1,000 cash award for an individual poem, an invitation to an awards event in Philadelphia and publication in the Spring issue.
● Three runners up will receive $100 cash awards for individual poems as well as publication in our Spring issue.
● The winning poet and runners up are invited to submit chapbooks to be considered for publication by PS Books.
● All submitted poems may be selected by the editors for publication in our Spring issue.

Contest Submission Guidelines:

1. Submission deadline: CLOSED FOR 2017.
2. We will only consider work previously unpublished in print or online.
3. There is a $12 reading fee for every submission. [All entrants will receive a complimentary one-year membership to
Philadelphia Stories — a $20 value.]
4. Simultaneous submissions are also accepted; however, we must be notified immediately if your work is accepted elsewhere.
5. Poets currently residing in the United States are eligible.
6. Submissions will be accepted via the website. If you have any trouble uploading to the site, please email christine@philadelphiastories.org.
7. We will accept up to five pages of poetry. You may submit one 5-page poem, five 1-page poems, or any other combination within the five-page restriction. No more than one poem per page.
8. All submissions should use a 12 pt font and standard typeface (not Comic Sans or Impact, etc.). Author’s name should appear on each page (this will be removed for the screening process).
9. You may enter multiple submissions of up to five pages for the additional fee of $12 per submission.

[img_assist|nid=20799|title=Steptoe|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=57|height=78]ABOUT THE 2017 JUDGE: Lamont B. Steptoe is a poet, publisher. and photographer born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. A Vietnam veteran, Steptoe is a graduate of Temple University’s School of Communications. Winner of an American Book Award and a Pew Fellowship in the Arts, Steptoe is the author of twelve poetry collections and editor of two collections by his late mentor South African poet, Dennis Brutus. In 2006 Steptoe was inducted into the International Hall of Fame for Writers of African Descent by the the Gwendolyn Brooks Center in Chicago. He has read his work in Nicaragua, India, Holland, France and Lithuania. His most recent poetry collections are Crowns & Halos, Oracular Rumblings & Stiltwalking and Meditations in Congo Square.

2016 CONTEST

[img_assist|nid=20476|title=Wisher|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=100|height=67]ABOUT THE 2016 JUDGE: Yolanda Wisher is a Philadelphia-based poet, bandleader, and educator. A 2015 Pew Fellow, she is the author of Monk Eats an Afro (Hanging Loose Press, 2014) and the co-editor with Sonia Sanchez of the anthology, Peace is a Haiku Song (City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Program, 2013). Wisher was born in the Germantown section of Philadelphia and raised in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, where she was named the first poet laureate in 1999. A Cave Canem graduate, she received an M.A. in Creative Writing/English from Temple University and a B.A. in English and Black Studies from Lafayette College. Her writing has appeared in a number of publications, including GOOD Magazine, The Philadelphia Inquirer, Ploughshares, Fence, and Harriet: The Blog. As a teacher, radio host, and founder/director of the Germantown Poetry Festival (2006-2010), Wisher has utilized poetry as a conduit for community-building and youth empowerment for over fifteen years. Wisher directed the Art Education department of the City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Program from 2010 to 2015, and is currently a Founding Cultural Agent and the Rhapsodist for Wherewithal for the U.S. Department of Arts and Culture.

The winners of the 2016 contest were: First prize: Towels at Sunset by Robin Kozak; Runners up:Big Mama’s by Patrick Swaney; The Rules by Courtney Kampa; Ascension Day Planting, North Philly by Patrick Cabello; Honorable Mentions: A Point on a Map by Valerie Fox; The Weight and Dimensions of my Prayers: Honorable Mention by Irène Mathieu.

2015 WINNERS

[img_assist|nid=19345|title=2015 Poetry Winners|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=308|height=133]Pictured at left: PS Executive Director Christine Weiser, Sandy Crimmins’ son Matthew Sullivan, PS Poetry Editor Courtney Bambrick, Winners Kathryn Ionata, Kelly McQuain, Emily Rose Cole, PS Editorial Director Carla Spataro, winner Autumn Konopka, and judge Jeffrey Lee.

Judge Jeffrey Lee shares his reflections on the winning poems:

Emily Cole — Winner: “Self-Portrait as Rapunzel” stood out with its excruci- atingly particular surrealist imagery and its fearlessly heartbreaking themes. There is a sureness of style and a surprising sense of familiarity about this noir-vision fairytale and “coming-of-age” (read: losing-of-youth) story in a world that could have been painted by Frida Kahlo (i.e. Frida Kahlo if she were channeling Anne Sexton).

Nadia Sheikh — Runner up: Tough Bitches. The voice of the poet is very strong in this poem, and she conveys powerful ambivalence about being female right away, which is interesting. But the theme is far more deep and troubling for the poet as she seems to see herself more androgynously but feels—even against her own will—attracted to a woman who is more feminine and beautiful, i.e. the way most of our society sees these things.

Lauren Boulton — Runner up: Childhood of Wicked Steps. In its core, this poem reminded me of Roethke’s “My Papa’s Waltz,” which I believe has become one of the inevitable myths of our (dysfunctional) time, and I was also reminded of many fairy tales that explore the terrors of childhood.

Kathryn Ionata — Runner up: Yield Signs Don’t Exist. This poem has a very compelling voice and a nice detached sense of dark irony and humor about itself. The style is very sharp and succinct, and the ending works intuitively very well. She captures a kind of life with great acuity.

About the 2015 Judge: Jeffrey Ethan Lee’s towards euphoria was the co-winner of the editor’s poetry chapbook prize from Seven Kitchens Press (2012). His dramatic poetry book, identity papers (Ghost Road Press, 2006), was a 2006 Colorado Book Award finalist. His first full-length poetry book, invisible sister (Many Mountains Moving Press, 2004), was a finalist for the first MMM Book Prize. He won the 2002 Sow’s Ear Poetry Chapbook prize for The Sylf (2003), created identity papers (audio CD with Toshi Makihara and Lori-Nan Engler) for Drimala Records, published Strangers in a Homeland (chapbook with Ashland Poetry Press, 2001), and poems, stories and essays in North American Review, Xconnect, Crab Orchard Review, Crazyhorse, Many Mountains Moving, Crosscurrents, American Poetry Review. He currently directs, edits and publishes poetry books through the Many Mountains Moving Press, which he began to serve as a volunteer after 2005. He has a Ph.D. in British Romanticism and an MFA in poetry from NYU.

2014 WINNERS
[img_assist|nid=11470|title=|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=47|height=65]
Rae Pagliarulo is a proud Philadelphia native currently working in the nonprofit development field. Her work has been featured on the Huffington Post Blog, as well as West Chester University’s Daedalus: A Magazine of the Arts. She served as the magazine’s assistant editor and was awarded its “Best Short Work” award in 2003. She holds a BA from West Chester University, and is happily working towards her MFA in Creative Writing at Rosemont College.

[img_assist|nid=11471|title=|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=59|height=57]Kayla Hilliard graduated from Temple University in 2010 with a B.A. in History. She works as a case manager for school therapeutic support services in the city of Philadelphia and sometimes writes poems on her lunch breaks. Kayla resides in South Philly with her two cats and expatriate husband.

Honorable mentions go to Paul Weidknecht for “Seen (with Explanations & Digressions),” Suzanne Cleary for “Nancy,” and Liz Solms for “Small Rooms, Seven Summers.”

[img_assist|nid=10751|title=|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=57|height=56]About the 2014 Judge: Daisy Fried is the author of three books of poems, Women’s Poetry: Poems and Advice (Pittsburgh, 2013), My Brother is Getting Arrested Again (Pittsburgh, 2006), a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award, and She Didn’t Mean to Do It (Pittsburgh, 2000), which won the Agnes Lynch Starrett Award. She teaches in Warren Wilson College’s low-residency MFA program and lives in South Philly.

Ciick HERE to read the full press release.

2013 Winners

[img_assist|nid=10012|title=Debora Fries|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=69|height=100]First place: Debora Fries’ “Marie in America.” Debora receives a $1,000 cash award, an invitation to our happy hour PARTY LIKE A POET event April 19, 2013 at the Center for Architecture in Philadelphia, and publication in the Spring 2013 issue. Poetry Editor Courtney Bambrick calls the winning poem “an evocative and transformative piece that exemplifies a commitment to storytelling through image and momentum.”

Second place: Kelly Andrews’ “Asterism.” Kelly receives a $250 cash award and publication in the Spring 2013 issue.

Three honorable-mention winning poets receive publication in the Spring 2013 issue. These are: Debora Gossett Rivers, Amy Small-McKinney, and Nissa Lee.

[img_assist|nid=9397|title=Dottie Lasky|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=68|height=81]About the 2013 Judge: Dorothea Lasky is the author of three full-length collections of poetry: Thunderbird (forthcoming, Wave Books, 2012), Black Life (Wave Books, 2010), and AWE (Wave Books, 2007). She is also the author of six chapbooks. Born in St. Louis, her poems have appeared in American Poetry Review, Boston Review, Columbia Poetry Review, among other places. She is a graduate of the MFA program for Poets and Writers at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst and also has been educated at Harvard University, University of Pennsylvania, and Washington University. She has taught poetry at New York University, Wesleyan University, Columbia University, Fashion Institute of Technology, Heath Elementary School, and Munroe Center for the Arts.

Click HERE for a press release about the 2013 winners of the contest.

About Sandy Crimmins
Sandy Crimmins served on the Philadelphia Stories board from 2005 to 2007. Sandy was a poet who performed with musicians, dancers and fire-eaters at bars, bookstores and festivals. After earning a master’s in fine arts from the University of Ohio, Sandy moved to New York and became a stage manager for several theaters, and, in 1985, married Joseph Sullivan. Four years later, she earned a master’s in nonprofit management from the University of Detroit. She, her husband and their two sons moved to West Mount Airy in 1989, and she began to write poetry and fiction focused on family issues. Her short stories and poems were published in a variety of journals, and her book, String Theory, was published by Plan B Press.

About the 2012 Winners (read a full release HERE):

SECOND PLACE: Steven Harbold. Steven is a writer and editor living in South Jersey. He is a graduate of Rowan University. Steven wins the second place prize of $250 and publication.

HONARABLE MENTION: Alexander Long. Alexander’s third book, Still Life, won the 2011 White Pine Press Poetry Prize.

The winning poems, judged by poet Major Jackson, appeared in the Spring 2012 issue of Philadelphia Stories.

Click here to see a slideshow from the 2012 awards celebration.

From the Editors

April 4-May 23 (Mondays 6:15-8:15): Philadelphia Stories Advanced Short Story Workshop with Aimee LaBrie. Fee: $200. (Sample required.)
Where: Robin’s Moonstone, second floor of 110A S. 13th Street

April 16, 9-5: Novel Workshop with Elizabeth Mosier
Where: Trinity Center for Urban Life (French Room), 22nd & Spruce Streets, Philadelphia. Fee: $75 includes all-day workshop and lunch (max. 20 participants).

April 16, 10-5: Free Library Festival Street Fair; reading at Fergie’s Pub.

May 25, 10-3: Painted Bride Quarterly 3rd Annual Bookfair for Literacy at Drexel University.

July 10, 11: Chestnut Hill Book Festival: PS will host a weekend of workshops, panels, a poetry slam, and free readings.

January 1-June 1: The Marguerite McGlinn Third Annual Prize for Fiction national contest. Prize: $2,000.

Spring: The Community College of Philadelphia has partnered with PS for a new Cultural Forum on CCPTV. Guests include Kelly Simmons, Marc Schuster, Gregory Frost, and Elise Juska.

June TBA: Our annual Spring Fling promises to be another fun day at the American Swedish Museum, featuring four new exhibits.
The event will launch the latest title from PS Books, Randall Brown’s flash fiction collection, Mad to Live.

For more information on all of these events, visit www.philadelphiastories.org. And thanks to our members for making our participation in these events possible!

Sincerely,
Carla Spataro & Christine Weiser
Publishers

Selective Memory

For years my mother, Sally, lied to me. I always knew that she wasn’t truthful about her age, but until my father died I never knew the extent of her deception. Then I learned that my mother, who had long declared that she was many years younger than my father, was almost the same age.

Ironically, for most of his life, my father could have cared less about how old she was, but I can only imagine his wrath if, during their retirement, he had ever known the consequences of her vanity. In what were then leaner years for my parents, she did not claim her Social Security until years after she was eligible.

She’d always been much older than all of my friends’ mothers, but, to her credit, I could never tell. No one could. Sally could, and did, pass as a much younger woman. She took great pride in her appearance, and the roots of that obsession were no mystery. She was born Sara Czernenka in Russia in 1914, and fled from pogroms there, arriving in Ellis Island with her mother and brother in 1922. They moved to South Philly, where she grew up, and was immediately labeled a “greenie,” an immigrant fresh off the boat. She struggled to fit in. She didn’t know the language. She had few clothes. She had no toys, not even one doll, and no bed of her own. She grew up to the knowledge that for women, looks and youth were the path to belonging and success.

Yes, Sally was a stunner; her beauty a major asset. When she dressed up, you might not be able to tell which movie star she looked like, but some famous actress’s name would be on the tip of your tongue.

In tribute to her beauty, an ex-boyfriend, a “mad man” who worked in the advertising industry, made her a professional looking Valentine lined with photos of the all the Hollywood femme fatales he thought she resembled. Printed across the top it read, “I see you everywhere I go.”

Sally saved that card in a box with all the letters and photos from her youth. When I was a child playing with the old clothes in her closet, I stumbled on it. How I loved that card! I was proud of and amused by my lively and alluring mother who, at one time, had been pursued by multiple suitors: Bill the muscle man, Barney the intellectual whose glasses were so thick she called him “The Blinde,” the blind one in Yiddish, and many others.

She wasn’t able to teach me how to be the man magnet she was, but she did teach me to care about my appearance. Back in the late 60s, every season, my sister, mother and I went to the neighborhood high-fashion store for girls, “Gigi’s” in Overbrook Park, where I got to pick out a new wardrobe. With the help of my mother and my older sister, I was the first girl in my class at Akiba Hebrew Academy, on the Main Line, to wear a mini skirt, bell bottoms or whatever else was in style.

My mother tried, with less success, to imbue me with her precepts about age. Once I reached my twenties, a time when I was still excited about each year on my path to maturity, she urged me to start subtracting. “If you want people to believe you’re young, you have to start early.” But I couldn’t be bothered with her calculated approach to aging.

As my role model, she was consistent with her carefully planned white lies. But, as she grew older, and the very early signs of dementia began to appear, she had trouble keeping track. Suddenly she was four years younger than my father, rather than six. Ironically, her accidental adjustments made her lies all the more believable, that is until 2001, when Ellis Island records were made public.

Since Sara Czernenka, nicknamed Sarushka, was born in Russia without a birth certificate, she’d always been free to lie. But with the advent of the Web, and the easy accessibility of the manifest of the ship that brought her family to the United States—the U.S.S. Gothland—the truth was finally exposed and immortalized. She came to the U.S. when she was 8, not 3. My mother gave birth to me when she was 39, not in her early 30s.

For my mother, uncle and grandmother, life in America was about reinventing themselves. They intended to become what my great grandmother called “Yankee Doodles,” real Americans. So when they became citizens, Sara Czernenka turned into Sally Cherner, her brother Zelig became Sam, and my grandmother, Ryvka, became Rose. Since she had no birth certificate, Sally also changed her age. Her citizenship papers said she was 26, but she must have been older by then. Further refashioning her image, she even gave herself a new Russian home. No small town for Sally. She said she was from Odessa, the birthplace of Russian Jewish intellectuals, and the city where my grandparents had studied. But the shtetl she was from, Bilogorutka, was as far from Odessa as Poughkeepsie is from Chicago.

By the time of my Ellis Island discovery, my mother was in a Jewish nursing home just north of Trenton, suffering from dementia. At first, she held on to the essential aspects of her personality—her passion for grooming, her love of learning and Jewish culture, and her garrulousness. But, over time, her illness eroded her grounding in reality. She began to disappear.

The first time I visited her after finding out her real age I blurted out, “I know how old you are. I saw the Ellis Island records.” I probably could have used more tact, but the truth amazed me.

Her face dropped. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” she asked. Being young was so important to her, that despite her confusion, she didn’t forget her deceit and never would. Her manipulation of her age was burned into her brain.

“Aren’t you proud of how old you are?” I asked. “You look great for your age. Being older only makes you all the more impressive.”

“It doesn’t,” she answered. We were alone in her room, but she looked around afraid that someone might overhear.

She was forgetting so much about who she was, but not her commitment to deceit about her age. Her defining traits, like her fixations with age and appearance, which had once annoyed me, now comforted me. They affirmed that I was talking to my mother. Behind the confusion, my beloved Sarushka was really there.

She may have forgotten what ravioli were; she could no longer write beautiful notes as she once had; she couldn’t concentrate enough to read or even watch TV. She talked about two husbands when she only ever had one and she sometimes thought she still had a baby. But certain things were the same or almost the same.

Before she went to the nursing home dining room, she’d reapply her lipstick; and when I visited, she’d give me a big hug. Where once she was big busted and full-bodied, now I could feel her bony frame, but her enthusiasm was as large as ever.

“Lisa, Lisa!” She’d light up. “Lisa is here,” she called out to her aide whenever I walked into her room. No one has ever been happier to see me. But, after my warm welcome, the first words out of her mouth would be, “Why don’t you move your hair away from your face?”

“It is,” I’d answer.

“You look so pretty, but it’s messy. You should comb it.”

My long wavy hair contrasted with her short teased helmet, kept perfect by the nursing home beautician who gave her a weekly wash and set. Her hairstyle, even her hair color, was frozen in time. At 91, she still dyed her hair and offered styling advice to the entire family, including my teenage niece. My niece, she thought, should wear her hair like a Miss America contestant from the 1950s, with pin curls and finger waves.

When I was younger, her constant attempts to control the way I looked irritated me. But now her love was so palpable that her criticisms didn’t bother me. I was so happy to find in them a glimmer of the mother I long loved, a woman whose memory was quickly changing so many things about her.

That glimmer remained until she died five and a half years ago. Now my mother only exists in memory. On a day when my hair is messy I can hear her saying, “Brush your hair.”I carry round her lipstick case, and, just as she once did, I find myself reapplying my lipstick throughout the day. I am different than my mother, but a piece of her remains embedded in my heart. She was Sally, born Sara or “Sarushka.” I am Lisa, once called “Lisenka” or “Zisa Lisa,” sweet Lisa in Yiddish, by my family. I miss my mother, and as I get older I understand her better. At last I can relate to her reluctance to be judged by her age. When asked how old I am, I hesitate, but then I smile, and tell the truth, and think about my mother.

Lisa Z. Meritz lives in Philadelphia and works for Temple University. Her essays have been published in the Christian Science Monitor, San Francisco Chronicle,The Philadelphia Inquirer, Philadelphia Daily News and Bucks County Courier Times. She is grateful for the love and support of her husband Craig and her daughter Rebecca.

Member Profile: Kerri Schuster

[img_assist|nid=7102|title=Kerri Schuster|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=249|height=113]This profile space is normally reserved for local authors with new books hot off the presses. But this issue, we decided to recognize someone of priceless value to the magazine: a Philadelphia Stories member. The member we chose is someone who has supported the magazine not just financially, but has given countless hours of her time volunteering for Philadelphia Stories: Kerri Schuster.

I first met Kerri Schuster after we published her husband’s story, My Life as an Abomination, in Fall 2005. Kerri attended her husband Marc’s readings for Philadelphia Stories, and then began volunteering for our events, helping us stuff envelopes, being a regular supportive audience member for readings by other Philadelphia Stories authors – as well becoming a regular financial contributor to the magazine. As I got to know Kerri, I was very impressed: she is smart, creative, talented, funny, and passionate. So, when we decided to take the plunge and form an executive board Philadelphia Stories, a decision we feel is crucial for the survival of the Philadelphia Stories mission, the first name on our invitation list was Kerri. We knew that she would bring her passion and commitment to the board, and she now serves as Board Secretary. I asked Kerri to share her story.

What do you do for a living, and for your creative work?

I am the Head of the English Department at the Country Day School of the Sacred Heart in Bryn Mawr. I have been there for eleven years and teach eleventh grade American literature and twelfth grade creative writing. I love being around my students because they energize me and challenge me to be a better teacher.

In addition, I have been a participant in Alison Hicks’ Greater Philadelphia Wordshop Studio for about a year. Joining in that community of writers has helped me develop my writing and produce new work. In February, I took part in a teacher-writer retreat called “A Room of Her Own Making,” sponsored by the A Room of Her Own Foundation. The three-day retreat at Pendle Hill allowed women teachers who write to come together and find time to create and communicate in a relaxed and very encouraging atmosphere. I was able to work on my poetry and meet with experienced writers such as Mary Johnson and Meredith Hall.

When did you learn about Philadelphia Stories, and what made you decide to become a member and volunteer?

I first learned about Philadelphia Stories when my husband, Marc Schuster, became involved in the magazine. I loved attending events and found myself meeting great writers from all over the Philadelphia area. Eventually, I was helping out at events and supporting PS in other various ways, including by becoming a member. I was honored when asked to join the board as the secretary and hoped to be able to ensure the longevity of the magazine and all its worthy endeavors. I am also on the committee for a new program, PS Junior, launching next Fall. This seemed a natural extension of my work as a high school teacher, and I was excited to be able to give young people a chance to see their own work published.

How do you think Philadelphia Stories helps the local writing community, as well as your own work?

Until I started working with Philadelphia Stories, I had no idea the Delaware Valley had such a vibrant and vast writing community. Through the magazine, I have been able to learn about local literary events, meet local writers and become a part of a world that just a few years ago I didn’t even know existed. Writing can be a lonely process, but being able to connect with other writers and attend local workshops, especially those sponsored by PS, can remind you that you don’t have to always work alone.

I have found the local literary community to be incredibly encouraging and welcoming. Philadelphia Stories has been instrumental in providing a place for writers to come together, and I have witnessed wonderful examples of camaraderie and support at both Push to Publish and the Rosemont Writers’ Retreat.

Where do you hope to see Philadelphia Stories in the future?

The future of Philadelphia Stories has never looked better. With the introduction of PS Junior, we will be able to bring the experience to a whole new group of writers. There aren’t many venues for young people to share their work, and I believe our latest endeavor will give students a much-needed opportunity to see their work in print. I also see PS Books continuing to publish excellent local authors and poets, and I see Philadelphia Stories continuing to offer superb workshops and retreats by prominent local writers. Of course, none of this would be possible without the help of our readers. That’s why it’s so important that you support the magazine and become a member!

How does your with Philadelphia Stories fit into your personal creative and professional goals?

My personal, creative, and professional goals flow naturally together. That’s why my work with the magazine has come so easily to me. Every day I teach the next generation of young writers, but I also want to set an example for them by working with a local organization that shares my goals and seeks to support the arts in Philadelphia.

For information about how you can become a member, go to www.philadelphiastories.org

Place Matters

[img_assist|nid=841|title=Aimee Labrie|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=104|height=121]Last year, I was asked to write a short story for the Akashic Book noir series—this is the series where each volume is dedicated to noir stories that take place in particular neighborhoods in a particular city. They’ve done books set in Barcelona, Haiti, Milan, Brooklyn, and the latest version, the one that that I was involved with, is Philadelphia Noir. Since I live in South Philadelphia, I was asked to set my story in that location (some of the other neighborhoods included are Rittenhouse Square, Fishtown, Centre City). The story, then, also needed to be a clear reflection of that section of the city, since setting was part of the hook.

Though I am a transplant from the Midwest, I’ve lived in Philadelphia for six years and South Philly for the last four years. I know parts of it as well as a non-native can. However, when I sat down to write the story, I realized that I don’t usually use setting as a central figure in my fiction. My stories are about quirky people who have difficulty connecting to others, and while the stories are set in Chicago or Florida or Nebraska, I never gave much thought to how place can impact how a story unfolds. Now, I had to figure out a way to insinuate the setting without being too heavy-handed.

During this time, I was also trying to buy a house in South Philly, so I was spending a lot of time walking around strangers’ living rooms, peering into their bathrooms, seeing what they kept in the fridge, trying on their clothes, etc. It was a voyeur’s dream; this chance to see how other people lived. I kept being shown a certain type of house, what I came to think of as the South Philly Catholic Italian Grandma House.

You would find a few of the same things in these houses: dark wood paneling, uncomfortable-looking sofas and chairs wrapped in protective plastic, and tons of religious iconography—Virgin Mary portraits over the toilet, toddler Jesus’ on top of the TV, crucifixes, saints—everything short of a confessional. The best thing I saw was very realistic-looking oil rendering of Jesus, Pope John Paul, II, and John F. Kennedy standing together like the Three Musketeers. As it turned out, when I sat down to write my South Philadelphia noir story, the Grandma House became the setting for the main conflict. And, as I was working through what happened, the house and the objects in it gave me a way to further the plot and to get my character saved. I’d never done that in my writing before; stopped to really look at the room my character’s standing in to see how the things in it can be part of her experience and part of the story.

Here’s how it worked: the main character gets kidnapped by a local Philly man named Tony. He knocks her out, and she awakens to find herself tied to a chair in the middle of one of these plastic-encased living rooms (I even added in the aforementioned Jesus, JFK, and Pope painting). She realizes that she’s in Tony’s family home at about the same time she sees that Tony’s walking around in his socks. She makes the correct assumption that he isn’t allowed to wear his shoes in the house; he has to protect the carpet. So, she asks him to untie her, saying that she really, really needs to use the bathroom. He refuses, until she threatens to pee herself, mentioning too that in the process, she’ll probably ruin the chair she’s sitting in and the carpet around it. Tony panics; he doesn’t want to make a mess in his ma’s living room. He relents, and the character goes into the bathroom. She searches for a weapon, and finds a giant Virgin Mary statue, which she subsequently puts to violent use, thereby gaining her freedom (and ruining the carpet in the process).

Not a great story, but it fit the genre. And it was a new experience to find myself writing the whole piece with my mind on place—to completely use the city and the people you might find in it and then the particular home to fuel the narrative action.

So, the next time you sit down to write, I suggest taking a few pages to get a sense of what surrounds your character. Even if you don’t use it in the final story, it’s useful to know the physical surroundings of your character. What city/town does she live in? What might you see on the curb outside of her house? What businesses are around her place? What trees line her street? And then, get in even closer. What kind of plates does she eat off of? If you looked in her closet, what would you discover stashed behind her boots? What is stashed away in the basement or attic? In the process, I believe you will discover that place can be a powerful fictional element to enhance and even move forward your story.

Aimee LaBrie is an award-winning author and teaches a fiction workshop for Philadelphia Stories.

The Floy Floy

It’s a shame you never saw Atlantic City when it had floy floy.
Burt Lancaster, “Atlantic City,” 1981

Boardwalk said Possible
said Here

Walked from the Inlet to Texas Ave
Salt air sand and waves thumping
barkers chanting rhyme
of Win rhyme of Easy easy
you can do it show the lady a good time
sweetheart I’m your man
let me show you how easy it is for a nickel
for a dime

Short hair pinned with a flower
sixteen and Oh my sailor girl let’s go
sailing but no time to stop
I’ve got to walk to move to
get past the storefront where Madame Xerxes
reads your fingertips mine burning
stinging in the surf past the place
with the girl in the iron lung talk to her
for a dime dead-eyed parents
at the curtain

The diving horse drowned

Things happen here
You can smell it on the air

In the morning salt light blacktop
shimmering across the parking lot
I watch a bartender
at the back door of a club
his shirt wide open shoes untied he
clutches the barmaid kisses her

I can taste it

Dorothy DiRienzi has published in Friends Journal, Poetry Midwest, The Mid-America Poetry Review, Passager, MO:Writings from the River, and more. She was a runner-up at the Tucson Poetry Festival, 2005, 2010 and a semifinalist for Black Lawrence Press poetry prize, 2008. She has an M.F.A. in Creative Writing from Arizona State University and previously worked as an editor and indexer of medical publishing titles in Philadelphia, PA for 38 years.

Unfinished Daughter, III

You sharpened your pencils
when I agreed to sit, produced

a careful record: broken woman
still young, but childless.

The collar a simple circle
leash-like, yoke-like

draws no attention from the face—
pupils like currants or seeds

shadows track time
under eyes, above lips

nostrils no longer perked
the stare distant, wistful—

you would say sadder but wiser
I would say—determined.
I would say betrayed.

Janice Wilson Stridick’s work has been published or is forthcoming in Arts & Letters, Keeping Time: 150 Years of Journal Writing, Milk Money, Schuylkill Valley Journal, Studio One, The View in Winter, and various anthologies. Her book and art reviews have appeared in NY Arts Magazine, Philadelphia Stories and Cape May Star And Wave. She has an MFA from Vermont College and lives in Merchantville, NJ.

Indian Creek

We explored the creek that
meandered through our yards
as if we had discovered it
ourselves, wandering along its bed,
navigating its twists and turns
until we learned where its water
moved fastest, where it trickled,
where its stones jutted out,
forming steps for us to cross
from one side to the other,
and when we knew it perfectly,
we rolled our pants, tossed
our dirty socks and worn sneakers
and waded through it,
lifting rocks to catch crayfish
and scooping up salamanders
shrouded in the cool mud.

In winters, we stomped along
its frozen gray surface like giants,
cracking the ice with our heavy steps,
or slid clumsily on the thicker
patches behind the McCabe’s house.
One day, you fell through,
shattering it, and when you got up,
tears streaming down
your chubby child cheeks,
you turned to me,
exclaiming it was my fault,
that a true friend wouldn’t
just stand by, so to ease your pain,
I lay in the frigid creek,
in the exact spot where you had fallen.

Robin Rosen Chang, a native of Philadelphia and a former graduate student at the University of Pennsylvania, lived in many places before settling in New Jersey ten years ago. She is an adjunct professor of English as a Second Language at Kean University. Her work has appeared in the NaPoWriMo online poetry anthology and A Handful of Stones literary blogzine, and is forthcoming in The Stillwater Review.