Allison Alsup Awarded Spring 2010 Orlando Short Fiction Prize
ALLISON ALSUP is a native of the San Francisco Bay Area, now living with her husband in New Orleans where they are slowly renovating a one hundred thirty year old cottage. Two years ago, she made a shift from full-time teaching to part-time work so that she could devote more time to her fiction. “Quick and Clever” is a stand alone piece from an emerging work focusing on the early generations of Chinese immigrants. Another...
CJ Hauser Awarded Spring 2010 Orlando Flash Fiction Prize
CJ HAUSER is a spinner of yarns and writer of fiction who lives in Brooklyn, New York. She has published fiction in The Brooklyn Review and the L magazine and believes New York is the best possible place to grow a story. She is currently at work on a novel about fishing towns, taxidermy, and love. Read CJ’s award winning flash fiction story, “Buoys,” here.
Jennifer Ruden Awarded Spring 2010 Orlando Nonfiction Prize
JENNIFER RUDEN received her MFA in creative writing from University of Oregon, and volunteered for a one year term with AmeriCorps in New Mexico where she still resides with her husband and two children ten years later. When not teaching literacy skills to disadvantaged youth, you can find Jennifer holed up in some secret place writing. Her stories and essays have appeared in Puerto del Sol, Literary Mama, Amarillo Bay, Mamazina, Word...
Tanaya Winder Awarded Spring 2010 Orlando Poetry Prize
TANAYA WINDER is from the Southern Ute and Duckwater Shoshone Nations and was raised on the Southern Ute Indian Reservation in Ignacio, Colorado. She was a finalist in the 2009 Joy Harjo Poetry Competition and her work is forthcoming in Cutthroat: a journal of the arts’ 5th Anniversary Issue and the Spring 2010 issue of Yellow Medicine Review: a journal of Indigenous Literature, Art, and Thought. She currently lives, works, and...
“Smoking Demon,” by Leslie C. Youngblood
Inside our lime-green Buick Regal, Mama hid from God. She had promised the Holy Rock Baptist Church and sworn directly to Him three weeks before that she’d stop smoking. On the night of her vow our short, stocky pastor jumped like he had caught the Holy Spirit right there in the center of his ring-cladhand. Then he smacked his palm across Mama’s high forehead, drenched with honey-colored sweat, to rebuke her “smoking demon.” “Out!...
Art is my taste for freedom. I drown day and day until I pick up my paintbrush once again. So, somehow, I can tell myself that you’re not stuck in this room and that the canvas is the key.
Nina Salvadoré
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Seabed or ocean floor? What is the difference?
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