Category Archives: Guernica Magazine

New Fiction on Guernica: Ethel Rohan

We’re going with two short-short pieces by Ethel Rohan. They’re sort-of, kind-of, about leaving and returning to Ireland. We don’t normally run micro-fiction, but I had to go with it, this time.

Ethel was raised in Ireland and now lives in San Francisco. Her story collection, Cut Through the Bone, will be released from Dark Sky Books this December. A second story collection, Hard to Say, is forthcoming from PANK, in 2011. She blogs at ethelrohan.com.

The Caine Prize, E.C., and Me

I wrote about the the recent Caine Prize for African Writing award for the Guernica blog.

Spoiler Alert (not really, one could hardly be a surprised, I’d imagine, by what I wrote): I say that my favorite thing about the award is that the short story was unsolicited.

Read my essay about E.C. winning the Caine Prize for African Writing HERE

Read EC’s Guernica story HERE

Francisco Goldman in Guernica


Years ago, I saw Francisco Goldman at the New York Public Library, in conversation with Junot Diaz. Goldman’s warmth and humor was everywhere that night, along with his intelligence and humor. When I asked him to be our guest fiction editor, I received that same generous response.

And then his wife Aura Estrada died. He decided to dedicate his efforts to her. Read his essay to find out more.

Picture is of Francisco and his late wife, Aura. Francisco took the picture himself.

Stories include:

A Person of Interest (a novel excerpt) By Susan Choi

Everything as it always was, day after day, until the thunderous boom.

Two Films (a novel excerpt) By Ernesto Mestre-Reed

As the projector unexplainably kept on rolling even after the house lights went up and the medics made their way to the front, some, apparently to the filmmaker’s credit as an artist and perhaps his detriment as a person, continued to watch and even laugh at the hazy antics on the screen.

Ball Game (a novel excerpt) By Gabriela Jauregui

He should have been thankful that Xavi died when their friendship was still intact, still unconditionally generous, as strong as their youthful athletes’ muscles, as stubbornly perfect.

You’re My Only Home (a novel excerpt) By Jay Caspian Kang

The mirror needs to be hung up at a height of 18 feet. The four-foot stepladder we borrowed from the Weisses comes up nine feet short, and climbing the low-hanging branches has not been as easy as I first imagined. The bark leaves a slippery residue on my palms and the needles tear away as easily as leper hair.

Atmospheric Disturbances (a novel excerpt) By Rivka Galchen

Those phrases, something has changed, just need to get away, personal vacation, were not really my words but TV words, movie words, pollen in the air.

456 Victoria (a novel excerpt) By Bex Brian

“I can’t study here.” Karenne’s hand waved loosely over the room. Augati saw the whole shabby truth of her life. The coffee table: a door, the handle still on poking up through the magazines that concealed the rest, rows upon rows of old magazines, many with missing covers, many marked and marred by grease, spilled coffee, forgotten bubble gum. Even the pillow she had picked up when she joined Karenne was bald, and it stank.

The background blah-blah

This post is OLD. ANCIENT. More updated stuff is here: 

I’m a writer.

But:

I’ve erased everything that was here because I found it so appalling.

I’ve never kept a diary (on a regular basis, that is) for the same reason.

I have had just about all I can take of myself. — S. N. Behrman

I write about books, movies, travel, and interesting people. I’ve written for both Maxim and Good Housekeeping (that’s a gamut), Reel.com, Time Out New York, Museums New York, Museums Boston, Four Seasons magazine, USAir Magazine, TV Guide, for a book called New York Calling: From Blackout to Bloomberg (2008, U of Chicago/Reaktion Books) and many others–most of which are not on the Internet.

I’ve been writing forever: I was an editor at my high school paper, and arts editor of my college paper, and even founded my school paper in 6th grade. I have an MFA from Columbia in screenwriting. My work has been (ugh) optioned. “Development Hell” it was. I also worked on countless short films. Such as this and this. I wrote and directed two sync-sound 16mm films that played such festivals as Chicago, and elsewhere.

I’m an editor for Guernica magazine , where I edit fiction, along with the occasional nonfiction piece.

I have blogged for Guernica HERE. Mostly the pieces are about Republicans. And they’re a rant. Yes, I know that.

Search my name, you’ll see I’m a signer of petitions (signed it–just one–in Union Square, unaware that it would be broadcast around the world.) And that I’ve written for magazines. Sometimes the stuff shouldn’t be on the Internet

Because I didn’t sign a contract that allowed it.

This shouldn’t be on the Internet either (because again, I didn’t sign a contract that allowed it).

Sometimes, it should

I write mostly because of these demons. They offered my a Faustian bargain: fun at school in exchange for 10 years of paying it off. Not on the internet: my fiction. That’s what I do. I’ve read here
Link
and here

and here

and here

and here and elsewhere in little places around NYC.

I’ve also gotten a 2005 partial scholarship to Summer Literary Workshops in St. Petersburg, Russia.

and a 2006 Conference Grant
to here

And a “waitership” to Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference in 2007.

UPDATE: More about me in this autobiographical piece I wrote for the Web Site, Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood, an essay called, “From Kobe, Japan to New York City (and Back Again)

Also have a few more stories out there on the Internet and a page on The Atlantic. This entry is an old one.