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You're looking at 20 entries, after skipping 20 newer ones. Missed some entries? Then simply jump back 20 entries orforward 20 entries.

Thursday, May 15th, 2008

Time:1:57 pm.
poetry rejected from:
the harvard review
Comments: Read 8 orAdd Your Own.

Monday, May 5th, 2008

Time:2:08 pm.
Mood:okay.
poetry rejected from:
The Southern Review.
Comments: Read 1 orAdd Your Own.

Thursday, May 1st, 2008

Time:8:09 pm.
poetry rejected from:
ninth letter.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Sunday, April 13th, 2008

Time:11:24 am.
rejected from:
fugue magazine
Comments: Add Your Own.

Saturday, March 29th, 2008

Subject:before the march 31 deadline
Time:3:18 am.
Mood: wow.
poetry set to:
ploughshares
stickman review
ninth letter
Shenandoah
Southern Review
notre dame review
Painted Bride Quarterly
Fugue
Hunger mountain
gettysburg review
Massachusetts review
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, February 22nd, 2008

Subject:five poems
Time:10:48 pm.
the sun- submitted.
vqr- submitted.
harvard review- submitted.
AGNI- submitted.

...and now months of waiting.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, December 27th, 2007

Time:2:03 pm.
Mood: hazy.
Secret Santa brought me a trashy mystery. Anyone ever read Janet Evanovich? A stephanie plum novel...

taking next semester off to write
Comments: Read 4 orAdd Your Own.

Thursday, December 6th, 2007

Subject:more lit mags
Time:1:00 pm.
Virginia QR
Alaska QR
A Public Space
Granata
The Sun
Agni
Green Mountain Review
Golden handcuffs review
Comments: Read 1 orAdd Your Own.

Monday, December 3rd, 2007

Time:1:49 pm.
old poetry found.
another poet I studied with found old poetry: Roni Somek (I really like him, too)

list of lit mags I gathered so far:
Harvard Review
American Letters and Commentary
Brick
Paris Review
(more trips to local book supermarkets to follow)
Comments: Read 12 orAdd Your Own.

Tuesday, November 13th, 2007

Subject:street cred
Time:2:01 pm.
I've unearthed some old poetry. I'm going to try and publish it.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, November 8th, 2007

Subject:pitch the book they want (the name dropping addtion)
Time:1:31 pm.
Dear agent,
Meet Gram Günter: Albino Rock Princess, recovering debutante, bright eyed suicide, Venus in Furs.
Follow her adventures as a human science project, a lonesome ghost, a high profile murder suspect, and a rock and roll revolutionary. Meet her kooky cohorts, including an insomniac reality tv star, a psychotic/prophetic pot-dealer, a riot grrrrl rock journalist, an important lesbian poet, a mad psychiatrist, a promising young scientist, and a manly detective.

 I would like to submit my novel, "I Maintain that Chaos is the Future". The novel is a Rock-and-Roll Myth and is just under 60,000 words.

Despite a popular fiction core, "I Maintain that Chaos is the Future" ;explores issues of gender, power, fame and sex.
Gram Günter will appeal to anyone looking for a strong complex female protagonist.
(too MFA)

similar in style to Jonathan Lethem or Tom Robbins, "I Maintain that Chaos is the Future" should appeal to readers of both popular and literary fiction. explores issues of gender, power, fame and sex. Gram Günter will appeal to anyone interested in strong complex female characters.

My first serious attempts at writing took the form of poetry, and I have had the opportunity to study under many acclaimed Israeli poets including Nurit Zarchi, Benjamin Shvili and Rami Saari I have been writing fiction for the past eight years. I am currently working on an exploration of the hard boiled detective novel.
I am looking for an agent who thinks good literary fiction can have popular themes and a sense of humor. I appreciate your consideration and look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

mobledqueen
Comments: Add Your Own.

Wednesday, October 31st, 2007

Subject:query update, take 1:
Time:9:52 pm.
Albino rock princess!

Follow the adventures of albino rock princess Gram Gunter, as she travels to the boundries of her power! Meet her kooky coherts, including her older rock balladeer husband, an insomniac reality tv star,  a psychotic/prophetic pot-dealer, a riot grrrrl rock journalist, an important lesbian poet, a mad psychiatrist, a promising young scientist, and a manly detective. These come together to form a tapestry of a public private life and to sketch out the promise and the allure of rock and roll.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Monday, May 29th, 2006

Subject:a man, a plan
Time:11:04 am.
Mood: hard boiled.
much as Nabakov would frown upon it, my novel is a self portrait. Not just the main character, but every single one.
but lets take a look at the main character.
find the differences:

1. Gram is effortlessly beautiful and confident. though I'd like to think of myself as a casanova, I am more of a skirt chaser and on some level still have to prove to myself that this is my real outfit. Especially now, boxed into my corner, isolated in my game of solitaire.
2. Gram, like Daisy before her, has a sugar daddy. To a certain degree, this is circumstantial, a way to allow my characters to do what I want them, a financial the suspension of disbelief, to support the illusion of their lifestyle.Yet here I am, working shit jobs, unschooled, unpublished, supported by my mother, still no room of my own. Not quite so glamourous.

so what?
It is hard not to become disillusioned when trying to write about disillusionment.


but if Chaos is the Future is me flowing the glint of a spell untill I had something substaincial in my hand, I want this next project to be to be carefully planned. Thought out like a poem. Pot Free. When I started writing Chaos (it was 12 bar blues then) I had serious ideas about it. I want to wait for those ideas to come back. so I can know where I'm going.
Fuck Stephen King, and the spontaneity of writing. He was always too impulsive anyway, and that made for unsatifying endings. I want my next project to be a careful execution of power.

Like revenge.
Comments: Read 6 orAdd Your Own.

Wednesday, June 15th, 2005

Subject:more poetry
Time:11:19 am.
Mood: psyched.
Dear Sir,
Regards, Immigrant Visa Unit
The visa was issued, you should receive it by courier service within a weeks time.
Comments: Read 2 orAdd Your Own.

Time:11:08 am.
I want to make it
as tiny
as a poem

this moment
of waiting for you
Comments: Read 1 orAdd Your Own.

Monday, June 13th, 2005

Subject:on the slow passage of time.
Time:5:58 pm.
sticky like molases, salty like brine.
it's the tenth, it's the nineth
it's the tenth, it's the nineth
it's the thirteenth.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Subject:six feet under season three finale
Time:1:36 pm.
David's in the kitchen in the foreground of the frame.
in the back right corner of the frame you can see claire going up the stairs.
"and bring back your coffee cup" he yells after her.
by then she has climbed out of the frame.
so, mostly to himself, he murmurs:
"we're running out of coffee cups in this house."
Comments: Add Your Own.

Monday, June 6th, 2005

Time:5:27 pm.
Mood: I'm 23 today, happy birthday.


all my clothes feel like costumes

oh how very sixteen of me.

Only I've given up sex & booze.

should leave time for drugs  & art.

If I don't vomit from the sight of myself that is.
Comments: Read 4 orAdd Your Own.

Thursday, May 26th, 2005

Subject:only sixty more pages to go
Time:2:39 am.
Mood: אנה מתה.

INSERT

<dialogue>

Gram: in LA I lived in an ivory tower. I remember the smell of potpourri and shit. Nothing was immediate; everything was an echo of an echo a refraction of a refraction.

And I remember, I wanted to pull my teeth out I didn’t know what I wanted to do.

To go unprepared. Cannonball.

The thing about rock and roll it that it’s public art like one of those huge sculptures people pass every day.

All visible.

And so it has to be beautiful.

And so my baby toe is the size of a small child’s head and if my underwear smells bad it effects weather conditions

I’m not trying to be vain. It just has to be beautiful, controlled, complete.

That’s why I’m glad you’re here.

Why?

Because you’re a journalist, she said, a recording artist, if you’ll pardon my pun.

 

</dialogue>

 

 And so I witnessed her final performance. She pulled out the gun and shot herself. She must have gotten it off her bodyguard while he was sleeping. Or maybe he gave it to her.  I could never figure out if he had or not. Could he really have been fool enough to give her the gun. But then again I was sitting right there when she did it. She didn’t have me tied up. Could I have stopped her?

  But she had gotten me. At the moment it seemed to make sense. Everything had become a sublimation. The only kind of grand display acceptable was the hole made by a gun. Everything else was a sublimation: tattoos, letters carved into flesh, whips and chains, leather straps, heroin: all sublimations of the final I-don’t-wanna-be-Iggy-Pop cut. This is the end, the quit-your-bitching end, my friend. Each fist through a wall; each southern comfort holler; each coma, each O.D.  only a sublimation of the big immutable Day The Music Died.

The end of production/ consumption.

The end with a capital E.

 

She pulled the gun from the pocket of her cardigan. She placed it gently into her mouth so that it didn’t knock her teeth.

Her hand with the gun stayed in place for a moment. Her head fell back on the pillow, with her lips a prefect o of surprise. The blood formed a red starburst behind her.

And her hand dropped.

Bellow no one noticed. The shot had drowned in the beat.

Comments: Read 4 orAdd Your Own.

Wednesday, May 25th, 2005

Time:10:43 pm.
Mood: leonard cohen lonely.


Sometimes I find I get to thinking of the past.

We swore to each other then that our love would surely last.

You kept right on loving, I went on a fast,

now I am too thin and your love is too vast.



But I know from your eyes

and I know from your smile

that tonight will be fine,

will be fine, will be fine, will be fine

for a while
Comments: Read 1 orAdd Your Own.

LiveJournal for The Gentlemyn.

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You're looking at 20 entries, after skipping 20 newer ones. Missed some entries? Then simply jump back 20 entries orforward 20 entries.