A Slumber Party Massacre

ACM is hosting a Printer's Ball after party on July 30, 2011 at Beauty Bar on Chicago Ave. The theme is Slumber Party Massacre. Intrigued? You should be. Check out our Facebook invite for more information. And don't forget to RSVP to the Printers' Ball.

Author vs. Author

Flavorwire has compiled a list of the 30 best author insults over the years. Check them out and file them away for future don't have to be Nietzsche to refer to someone as a hyena.

Check it: Chicago, caricature-style.

Check out Rob Funderburk's (the man behind the artwork of ACM 50) rendition of our event, The New Chicago Style, last Thursday.


Friends, we have a special evening planned for you! The Chicago Cultural Center reading is absolutely free. Doors for the panel discussion and afterparty opens at 8 pm, but we don't expect to get it started it until 9 pm. The Chicago Reader listed us as a recommended event! We're pumped. If you click through to the rest of this post, you'll see a flier for the after party.

Curbside Splendor Literary Magazine Review by Josalyn Knapic

On the cover of Curbside Splendor Issue 1, Spring 2011, there are soft white lights from blurred black streetlamps. An allusion to the cover art as well as the content, it is simple yet alluring. This newly developed literary magazine publishes fiction and poetry. It hails from the Chicago neighborhood, Logan Square. Edited by Victor David Giron, this semi-annual magazine brings to light urban (and sometimes sub-urban) settings.

Photography is intermixed within the text. The black and white images capture urbanization¾ through photojournalistic city landscapes, abstraction, and close ups. All photos are taken either by designer of the magazine Karolina Koko Faber or by photographers: Garrett Holden, Michael San Filippo, and Eirik Gumney.

This magazine can be defined from a poem entitled, “What We Talk About When We Talk About the End,” in which Ally Malinenki writes, “It goes in different directions. I try to stay away from the panic.” Each story or poem takes the reader in some new direction while exploring the "panic" of life, whether it is meeting your death somehow on Rue de Nil in opening story "Second-Hand Blue," meditating on city streets in Frankie Metro's poem "Kingsley Ave.," or living as children struggling during the month of Ramadan in Farah Ghuznavi's story "Waiting for God."

These different directions also take us into fiction winners of Curbside’s 2010 Winter Short Story Award Opportunity. Brandon Jennings “Doc the Fifth” is the first place story of a soldier in the Iraqi War. Second place winner Yovani Flores introduces us to a Puerto Rican father’s kitchen habits in “El Lloron.” Third place story “Onida” by Michael San Filippo takes us through young adult's troubled relationships.

Everything in this issue begs to have the reader understand what it means to share stories (tragedies or successes) with people that are close to us. They also show how strangers can influence our lives. That's what being an urbanite is all about, lives intersecting other lives. The casualness of the issue gleams what all of us are looking for: meaning in the obvious, the routine, and the fascination in the behavior of people. Curbside Splendor focuses on appreciating the substance of what it means to be urban.

Check it: the best of Chicago readings

CBS Chicago's Mason Johnson reviews the top literary readings in the city. Check it out (and then check them out in person) to see if you agree.

“[H]ere I’ll stay, enchanted”: a review of Anthony McCann’s "I Heart Your Fate," by Jennifer Moore

Anthony McCann’s third collection of poetry reveals a preoccupation with how we encounter, experience and process the world around us. He places emphasis on processes of perception and modes of discovery, and the objects in McCann’s view are charged with vitality: material is imbued with life, the inanimate is animated. And though at times what’s seen is threatening or ominous, these poems are ultimately celebratory, and the world is one in which “it’s nice to be held while watching the waves.”


In the opening poem of the collection, “Post-Futurism,” we glimpse the early stages of the processes of reflection, which mark most of McCann’s poems: “When I was young, life/ was instrumental and/ through experience (in life)/ (through which I poured myself)/ I passed through various/ Containers of/ pre-dawn excellence” (3). The speaker’s way of discovering his surroundings involves gathering tactile and sense impressions, as in “Samuel Taylor Coleridge,” in which events are as-yet-unfulfilled:

A list of friends and our very own...

Just of ahead of Printer Rows Lit Fest (we'll be there, of course, come say hello!), New City released Lit 50: Who Really Books in Chicago 2011. It's a list (no way!) of Chicago's literary stock. ACM's own Editor-in-Chief, Jacob S. Knabb, clocks in at 42.

Nelson Algren Documentary Kickstarter

Check out the Chicagoist article about the new Nelson Algren documentary and what you can do to help raise funds through Kickstarter!

Review of "A Beautiful Name for a Girl," by Kirsten Kaschock

In her most recent collection of poems, A Beautiful Name for a Girl (Ahsahta Press, 2011) Kirsten Kaschock explores different concepts of identity, and how identity is constructed. These concepts become increasingly constricting, and the book ultimately acts as a means of finding an escape from the self and society.


The opening poem, “Assemblage,” gives readers a sense of ownership and construction, using architecture as a trope for constructing a self that is wholly self and not dependent on any outside factors. By placing this as the introductory poem, Kaschock establishes identity as something that must not rely on outside standards but must be constructed within; shelter cannot be sought, only built. “This is the house Jane built by being the house / Jane built by being” (32-33). She establishes the search for identity not as finding oneself, “Once, this was Jane finding Jane” (2-3). but as embracing what is already there.


This foundation crumbles with each poem that follows, however, as Kaschock writes from increasingly varied perspectives, and in doing so writes her own mythology of gods and angels and demons, spiders and machines. Each poem follows a thread of this mythology, exploring the different perspectives of human, monster, dancer, teacher, mother, woman. What makes the poems so intriguing is how these perspectives interact and weave their way throughout the collection through her masterful repetition of words and themes. Just when a subject seems thoroughly exhausted, Kaschock brings it up again, forcing the mind to stretch to encounter it in a new way.


The culmination of these variances is most apparent in “Snuff Ballet (A Monologue for 2, 3, or 7),” a long poem that makes up the entire middle section of the book and captures the voice of a playwright, her critics, and her audience, all fixated on the display of the single dancer, a woman. The poem oscillates between these voices, and although the voice of the dancer is never heard, she is described:


one dancer


required to be omega

older than her peers, in some way

bird-like, quick and puckish, prone to flight

prone to spasms

prone to on-stage orgasm

armed with working feet and a hole

in her heart that could lead

to certain death (strains of the 5th—three duhs

one duhm) therefore


karma-wise, all birds have issues

hollow bones, a diet of seeds

small eyes, their alertness instinct

not intuition, not intellect although

appearing intellect, required to

required to fool us all—up to and including

moment omega, and crucially


she must not believe in her own death (68-86)


These descriptions of the dancer’s character, costume, choreography and motivation are interspersed throughout, each increasingly eerie and invasive until eventually it is the playwright, the artist, who is on display and poised to fail.


“Fail. Now— / there’s a beautiful name for a girl” (35-36), is how Kaschock ends the penultimate poem of the book. This line seems the inevitable conclusion to these fable poems, the word “fail” serving as a reminder of what happens when all these voices are heeded and the foundation of the self is not preserved. But it still comes as a shock that this mythology is also tragic in nature: after listening to all these voices, there is still no hero to banish them, and Jane must build the house herself after all.


BIO: Kirsten Kaschock earned her Ph.D. in English from the University of Georgia, and is currently a doctoral fellow of dance at Temple University. A Beautiful Name for a Girl is her second collection of poems and is available from Ahsahta Press.