The Weekly Atticus (11/10/2018)

Here's a Little Pill for Your Anxiety of Influence | The Weekly Atticus

November 10, 2018

A recap of the week at Atticus Review, along with some extras.

Dear ,

From the outside looking in, I have a life for which any writer would give their eyeteeth. I’m unmarried, childless, and my work is freelance, so: flexible. Presumably, I have all the free time in the world. I should be producing poems at a rate of two John Bradburnes and one William Shakespeare (I Googled “prolific poets” – there’s actually a Guinness World Record for this).And yet.The life I’ve set up for myself is one of service to other writers – as an assistant editor here at Atticus Review, I have the honor and privilege of reading submissions. I also work for other presses, as well as individual writers and poets, to promote their books through still-image social media posts and/or book trailers that I produce. I am, essentially, awash in others’ work.I give most of my time to other writers. One morning a few days ago, I had that particular itch in my brain, that nervousness and drive that is a poem coming to surface – bubbling a phrase here, an image there. I thought I would set it aside for later. I had work to do, and daylight would be breaking soon (I work best in the dark – either early morning, or late at night). The pull of the buzz around me – the waking world, finding bread crumbs to carry, pollen to cling to their legs – would soon take me away into a whirl of washing dishes, doing laundry, running errands. I’m a responsible person. I thought it best to do the work expected of me, the work for which others are waiting (have you noticed that, assuming you’re not a best-selling author with an audience of millions and a deadline, no one is waiting for your writing?). It’s no small miracle, then, that I put my laptop aside, took out a pen and paper (actual paper! a ratty, spiral bound notebook – my favorite) and began to write a poem. And because I’ve put myself in a position to be awash in others’ work – particularly from small, independent presses – the poem flowed, easy and clean. The work I’ve done for others was all the while fueling my own – giving me confidence in my choices, and confidence, even, to write at all. Others are out there writing – why shouldn’t I? The “anxiety of influence” aside, I’ve also experienced the anxiety of cacophony – as a reader for Atticus Review, as well as a promoter for other presses, I am well aware of just how many voices are singing and speaking. I’m aware of others’ successes, and how they compare to my own. There is a temptation to surrender solely to service – to let it be enough that I use my creativity to put forward carefully crafted writing, even if it isn’t my own. Truth be told, I often feel rather magnanimous in devoting so much energy to others who would perhaps be considered my competition or rivals. But for as much curmudgeonly pride as we take in being loners, I can tell you with certainty that writers need each other. We writers need each other, and we also need to feed ourselves – to tend our own gardens, and make sure we are planting, sowing seed, growing. Thanks for reading. We’re glad you’re here. Amber ShockleyAssistant Poetry Editor

ATTICUS NEWS

Move us with your moving words!! Enter our Videopoem Contest judged by Marie Craven.

First Prize is $300! 

Deadline to Submit: December 3rd, 2018

THIS WEEK AT ATTICUS

FERAL TOWN by Adam Gustavson

BOOK REVIEW: SOLIDER, RADICAL, OR SOMEWHERE IN BETWEENA Review of OUT OF STEP by Anthony MollReview by Jeff Gilliland"In wry, captivating prose, Moll renders a vivid image of himself as a man “caught between two spaces” — a queer progressive who rebels against the military’s homophobic policies and an earnest young American who volunteered for war to improve his lot and do good in the world."READ ON

FICTION: THE WINDOW DRESSERby Thaisa Frank"The owner explained he didn’t exactly want her to dress the window. He wanted her to keep putting things in and out of an antique spice cabinet with thirty-five drawers."READ ON

POETRY: MRI, OR THE NEW ART OF ANTHROPOMANCYby Dominik Parisien"They say your parts can see it allor near enough to feel like fate."READ ON

CNF: NO ONE SURVIVES THE PLANE CRASHby Ephraim Scott Sommers"The small plane kabooms into the power lines, then, to our left, which had seemed, only two scenes before, invisible in the night. It explodes neon. Like green lightning."READ ON

FILM REVIEW: MAGIC AND HOMAGE IN HILL HOUSEA review of THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE from Mike FlanaganReview by Alison Lanier"Jackson’s posthumous surge of popularity is finding a particular purchase in the dark and trying times of 2018, and her work has gotten the update to make it soar with a new audience."READ ON

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