Archive for July 6th, 2010

[Rib Sharp, The Independent, July 5th 2010]:

There’s an empty slot on the bookshelf between your pristine copies of McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern and Granta.

You’d be forgiven for believing, what with all the nay-saying surrounding the publishing industry, that the best use for the space is as a cubby hole for your shiny new iPad. Think again. Stemming from the edgiest enclaves of the book-loving universe, a glut of new literary magazines is giving a home to freshman writing and established prose. From the cool, rock’n'roll aesthetic of Pen Pusher, to the DIY origins of Litro and the fizzing poetry-illustration formula of Popshot, bookworms are corkscrewing into virgin habitats everywhere.

“There has been a great resurgence in magazines looking at the same literary areas,” says Craig Taylor, author and editor of Five Dials, launched by Hamish Hamilton in June 2008 to showcase short fiction, essays, letters, poetry and reportage. While the magazine is distributed via email, its founders intend it to be flexibly consumed – either printed out or viewed electronically. “As conventional magazines are dying out, or chasing celebrity, there’s an excellent little gap in the market,” continues Taylor. “I went to NatWest the other day and their in-house magazine had the same celebrities on the cover as all of the weekend colour supplements. I remember standing there and thinking, ‘thank God I don’t have to be the same as everyone else, schmooze the PRs, play the game’. It’s a great time to be doing something different.”

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6
Jul

Not just idle chatter

   Posted by: Ralph   in general

[Lia Grainger, National Post, July 5th 2010]:

I think a large proportion of the general public assumes poetry is boring,” Toronto poet Katherine Leyton says. “That, or they’re afraid of it.” She’s sitting in Plaza Flamingo restaurant on College Street, where an hour earlier Spain’s 2-0 World Cup victory over Honduras prompted the herd of red jerseys congregated around TV screens inside to flood out onto the sunny sidewalk. When they do, Leyton is waiting, camera in hand. She snags a young woman who announces herself as Soledad. “Will you read this poem for my poetry blog?” Leyton asks. The girl looks wary for a moment, but then smiles and nods. Reading from a sheet of paper, Soledad happily recites a Lorca poem in its original Spanish. When she’s done, she grabs her jersey, tilts her head and grins: “¡ Vamos Espana!”

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