Why I Send What I Do

Justin suggested in comments I talk a little bit about payment terms, as in why I sent certain books to the people I publish here, which seems like a good idea, as I've now finished packaging them for mailing tomorrow. Some submitters I've known quite well for years, others I know only by online association, others I really don't know at all. So I'm doing a little 'net research, and basing my choices for them on what they've written and what I can find about them.

First is Beverly Jackson. I've known Bev well since the late '90s online, we've published each other, and exchanged great swaths of email about our various projects and publications, so this choice was easy. I sent her Out of Canaan, a book I enjoyed a great deal, a collection of poems about growing up and growing wise(r) within a four-generation span of a Southern family. I know she's not reading poetry lately, though as you can see she's a fine fine poet, but I thought this book might be just her kinda thing. Hope you like, it, Bev.

Next up is Jim Parks, who I took three short-short stories from (so far). I know him only slightly, but he has stories behind stories behind other stories to tell, and I don't know if I've met anyone as serious about getting better as Jim. I know he lives in the southwest, and I know he was a journalist for many years. So I sent him Desierto, by Charles Bowden, a collection of nonfiction/journalism about the Southwest. I admire Bowden more than I can say for his maverick attitude--he's, uh, very male, in the Edward Abbey/Jim Harrison sense--and his sumptuous strung-out sentence structure (say that three times fast). I also, at Jim's request, sent a copy of my flash fiction collection.

Next is Dennis Mahagin. I wish he was still writing his blog,but he's not. Somebody kick him in the ass, would you? I know Dennis not all that well personally, though I've been reading him for years and he and I travel in many of the same cyber-circles with many mutual friends and an aura of respect for each other. I hope. So anyway, I sent him some fiction, Nothing Natural by Jenny Diski. How to explain this book? It's about s&m, yes, and about depression, sort of,and it's sexy in a sort of uncomfortable way, and I've not read much like it. And so in scanning my bookshelves to see what to send, I thought of Dennis.

Coming Soon: stories by Donna Vitucci and Mary Akers, more from Jim Parks, interviews with Silas House and Ron Rash, and all kinds of goodies I have yet to think of.

Old-Time Religion by Beverly A. Jackson

(originally appeared in Dead Mule)


She loves him as only a Christian woman
can love a man; crucifies him with love,
bears witness to love, kills him with devotion.
She is called Jude. She sings
Jesus Loves Me with a power that
promises He'd darn-sight better.

Her husband leaves at midnight.
She turns in her bed, naked & warm,
to hear him at the gate. Outside,
snow thick as white oleo lies
in slabs under moonlight. His cat crawls
from under the truck & ducks inside
for warmth as he slips out to icy air.

“Jason” she cries. His blue eyes flash
fox-like as he bolts, with her in pursuit.
His foot pumps the gas & the old engine
turns over. Doors locked, he shifts into gear.
Across the snow she runs, breasts bobbing,
legs sprinting, moonlit hair flying behind.

His shoe presses the pedal. She leaps
on the running board. Her ravaged face
presses against his window, a gargoyle’s
mask of furious despair. Her mouth makes
"Jasons" in the air; wide toothy soundless
"O"s against the frosty glass. With arms
embracing steel, her body hugs the cab.

When he picks up speed, she screams,
lets go, falls back into the snow,
chest heaving at the moon, & lies waiting
for the cold to melt her rage.
Her sobs assault the quiet, country night,
curses pitch like arrows after a truck
long out of sight & sound. She knows
she's seen the last of it and him.

In the crisp light of morning, freshly bathed,
and smiling with resolve, she takes his cat
to the pound & goes to church.


Beverly A. Jackson lives in the mountains of Asheville where she writes and paints. Her work appears in many online literary venues and in print. Her blog is at www.beverlyajackson.com and her art can be seen at www.artshackstudio.com.