This is an account of a disastrous sailing trip Dylan James Brock took in June 2011. View Part 1 here 2 Before the captain bought the forty-one foot sailboat in May 2011, it was owned by a hoarder. Lucille crammed every corner of the boat’s two cabins with assorted trinkets that the captain had cleared out over the course of a few days. All he had chosen to keep  of the clutter was a drawer full of brand new, blank baseball caps,...

Our recent event at the Howmet Playhouse was a huge success. A special thanks goes out to all of the artsits and all who attended. We truly appreciate those who support our endeavor and believe in the importance of artistic ventilation. I’m sure Ben has more to say about the event, but for the time being, have a look at my photos from the night. ...

I have often found myself wishing my life were dramatic enough to make a great narrative. Moments in it were that way, but only to the extent that they offered material for a self-indulgent, episodic piece or two. Until recently, there had been no great adventure to my tale that could hold the threads together long enough for me to weave them into a tapestry. That all changed on my recent vacation. I was asked to sail from Rochester, New...

Let me explain.  Raccoons, we presume,  are mischievous creatures: they get into our trash with dextrous little hands; they wear masks; they could be friendly or rabid; we make hats out of them.  Squirrels, on the other hand–though they too are no doubt responsible for domestic mischief, especially for you bird lovers–are, shall we say, less symbolically charged beyond their general mysteriousness as living creatures. So when...

…the sign on the corner building read, beside which a street light arched like a back and two tangueros strode across the cover of the leather-bound journal that was to be my first purchase in Buenos Aires. “Little road or journey,” it signifies, though the flight to South America is not diminutive. Distance is not the point, Proust says, of travel, but that discovery in oneself of other eyes. One looks and looks, agape at the...

My novel Enigmatic Pilot and the story cycle it’s part of have stirred comparisons with Pynchon, which generally pleases me. But when the book was featured in a course at Seattle University, I was asked some pointed questions by students about who I personally think my river sources are. Here’s how I answered. William Burroughs and Philip K. Dick (long ago a neighbor of mine in Berkeley) remain very important writers to me. I...

I came to Arctic Monkeys late–probably because so many critics were telling me I would love them. Witty, caustic, frenetic British post-punk alterna-pop–what’s not to love? I couldn’t imagine, however, what would separate them from their counterparts–from Bloc Party, or Babyshambles, or The Kaiser Chiefs, or Foals, for instance?  Simply put, what these bands all have in common, in contrast to Arctic Monkeys,...

Of course, my shrink was two tables over watching me through the whole dinner. Not that he meant to. In fact, he probably was trying to avoid looking at me, as I was him. I did feel a bit like putting on a show, though, so I laughed often and tried to contribute as much conversation as I could with my friends. We talked about the word schnitzel. How attractive it was and how someone had to order the pork schnitzel just to say it. And...

While sitting down at the computer for a few hours two nights ago to compile that list of June writing contest deadlines and calls for submissions, I came across an awesome new independent literary press based out of St. Louis. Architrave Press, founded this year, selects poems for publication and then offers them for sale individually, the same way you can buy a song from iTunes. Their website isn’t set to launch until September, but...

Work is slow. School is finished. The kiddos are away at camp. Across most of the country, it’s already too effing hot to go outside without immediately feeling that you will most definitely perish from heat exhaustion within 60 seconds. You’re mostly just bullshitting around until you take your vacation anyway. Need something to do? Stop drinking lemonade and fanning yourself with back issues of Maxim. Get your voice out there....