I received my first issue of One Story this weekend, the magazine of only — you guessed it — one story. I was introduced to One Story by one of its readers, James Scott, when he months ago manned a table at a bookstore panel of local literary magazines. He urged me to subscribe, and, finally, I did. One Story makes no pains for cover art: Just the title and author. I understand they change the color of the cover sheet. The story inside is what matters. Continue reading
From: Hey, You’ve Got Some Font on Your Face: Typefaces, Literally – The Atlantic
For you typophiles out there, Spanish design company Atipo created this series of posters as an homage to four typefaces: Helvetica Bold, Carousel Medium, Caslon Italic, and Clarendon Bold. Inspired by Erwin Orlaf’s Paradise Portraits — a haunting series of clownish painted faces— designers Raul Garcia Del Pomar and Ismael Gonzalez smeared black and white makeup on models’ faces.
“May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.”
— Neil Gaiman
Great multiple tellings of a similar story, “I Come to Town,” by Ben Janse, as presented by Stace Budzko of Grub Street in Boston.
Steve Almond reads 'Donkey Greedy, Donkey Gets Punched' at Newtonville Books, Newton, MA.
Steve Almond, above, reads “Donkey Greedy, Donkey Gets Punched” from Best American Short Stories 2010 at Newtonville Books in Newton, MA, Wednesday, March 16, 2011.
Sam Lipsyte also read excerpts from his latest novel, “The Ask.”
See more of my photos of authors.
“Tell the story you’re terrified of getting wrong.”
J. Tanner Cusick was told by Ben Marcus (via toddzuniga)
“One drags around a bag of fears he has to throw to the winds every so often if he expects to take off in his writing.”
— Bernard Malamud
This week on Smokelong Weekly, a gem. The Way We Speak Now by Angi Becker Stevens
“The first word we lost was the name of that thing with the buttons, the one you speak into to talk to someone who is far away or at least not in the same room. The thing you call people with. We woke up one day and the word was just gone, no one anywhere could remember it. It even vanished from dictionaries, as far as we knew, …”
I hope to write a book that would one day make someone’s bookcase dance like this one does. If it too dances to “Tamacun” by Rodrigo y Gabriela, then all the better.