September 30, 2019

How To Succeed In Your Writing Career

Posted by in Interviews, Member Writing & Art, Writing
How To Succeed In Your Writing Career

An Interview with Fictional Cafe Barista Jason Brick In this wide-ranging, 30-minute conversation about today’s writing and publishing environment, Jason shares his knowledge and experience as a writer, an author, and a publisher with curious Fictional Cafe writers who wish to create a sustainable business and income from their writing, rather than its being a hobby in which one indulges in his or her spare time. Jason Brick is a professional writer, martial artist, travel addict, and dad whose work has been published across multiple genres and formats. He has contributed over 3,000 articles and short stories to print magazines and online sites on topics ranging from home improvement, to health and wellness, to cocktail recipes, to small business management. Some of Jason’s top-level corporate clients include BlackBelt and Thrillist magazines, American Express, Intuit, and Mint.com. Jason has ghostwritten more…

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September 28, 2019

Posing the Tough Questions — Poetry by Casey Aimer

Posted by in Member Writing & Art, Writing
Posing the Tough Questions — Poetry by Casey Aimer

Lawrence Sullivan Ross In Aggieland where the Kool-Aid is laced with bled maroon were they conscious of the irony in 1918, preserving their Confederate General hero in bronze skin? Today, Sully, I mapped out your statue like you mapped out the West, my legs dangling, sitting on your copper head and Van Dyke beard. All so I could say this: When the immigrant sculptor, Pompeo Coppini, was re-forging your sole into existence I bet you struggled and resisted your creator. When your fingers were being hammered into submission you clutched in desperation didn’t you at the white work floor lights before being carted away in a colored wheel barrel. At your dedication you protested the brown and black pebbles underneath your podium. They reminded you too much of the people screaming freedom amid Reconstruction where…

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September 23, 2019

Dark Poetic Visions of Nigeria by Batunde Babafemi

Posted by in Member Writing & Art, Writing
Dark Poetic Visions of Nigeria by Batunde Babafemi

Reminisce   You remember when   we were too beautiful to smile?  savoring the tears for another day?  How we search our breath   In our nose?  You see the prophesy was true;  we will all die  But my lover’s death  took away my spine.  I crawl all night and wonder   about the shadow of a man  buried inside a plank—The day I heard his demise,   I thought it was a prank  Until I see tears from my eyes.  My love,  How long have you been cold?  Alone,   I buried my pain inside my gaze  looking through our memories  I heard your voice inside my speech,  & when the clergy summoned me   My words become flaccid  Like this I know how   much death took from me.   Abigail  Her silence has words burning inside her   Same as a…

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September 21, 2019

“My Year in Art,” by Steve Sangapore

Posted by in Fine Art, Guest Posts, Member Writing & Art, Writing
“My Year in Art,” by Steve Sangapore

After graduating from college in 2013 with a degree in art, I spent the next five years maintaining a sharp focus on honing my craft as a painter. Countless studio hours were matched with even more time pursuing opportunities, schmoozing with gallerists, and making my presence known within Boston’s, and the greater Northeast’s, vibrant art communities. While each year yielded great leaps in my technical dexterity and academic proficiency as a painter, the art was virtually devoid of the most important component that separates art from craft . . . and I just couldn’t see it. Or, perhaps I could see it—I just didn’t want to. The debates between, “what is good art” and “what is or can be art” have been raging on for years – particularly since the mid-19th century with the birth…

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September 19, 2019

“Gods of Death” and Other Poems by JC Mari

Posted by in Member Writing & Art, Writing
“Gods of Death” and Other Poems by JC Mari

gods of death field of clover spread like multitude of hands extended out for you, and they trot a mild-paced approach river-stream of manes and tongues and eyes and belly and hoof breathing out a strength you’ll never know, like stained-glass mandalas pierced by dawn or storm on the eagle’s beak. strangers to each other and ourselves we limp and gaze our puzzlement away befuddled, secret enemies of the wondrous empty all around. this is also how they will approach and enter death. you’d have to be a god to live even a minute of your life this way. ** for the 2 or 3 who read my poems when you ask to read one of my poems i’m 12 again, untouched by whore and booze. when you pick up a copy of my book…

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