A SUPERB WRITER INVESTED IN SPELLBINDING FICTION, ETHICS AND THE NATURAL WORLD: AN INTERVIEW WITH CHARLOTTE ROGAN

A big thank you to Linda Richards at January Magazine for her continued support!

http://www.januarymagazine.com/profiles/rogan.html

The Lifeboat (Reagan Arthur Books) by Charlotte Rogan kept me awake at night.  The first night to read straight through to the end… unthinkable to drift off to sleep not knowing how the story plays out...The second night to read it again, focusing on the philosophical and ethical conundrums.  The harrowing tale of Grace and her fellow travelers will call to you again and again.

MaryAnne:   Readers always crave more knowledge about the personal side of the authors they read.  Can you tell us what books you read as a child?  Who encouraged you to read and what was your home life like?

Charlotte:  Story time was sacred when I was growing up. My family did not get our first television set until long past the time I was able to read for myself, and books represented the door to two magical kingdoms: the realm of the imagination and the world of education and ideas. My family cared about both. Part of the fun of visiting relatives was having an aunt or a grandmother read to whatever assortment of children she found piled on the couch or gathered at her feet. My grandmother, who was born in India, loved Rudyard Kipling; my mother, who was tough and adventurous, loved Robin Hood and The Call of the Wild; my father could recite “Jabbberwocky” from Through the Looking Glass and “Concord Hymn” by Ralph Waldo Emerson. I was excited by the stories, but I also loved the rhythm of the words and the distinct voices and interpretations brought to the texts by different readers.

A MAP OF REALITY

Thanks to all those at Thrice Fiction - http://www.thricefiction.com/pdf/ThriceFiction005X.pdf
See Page 21 for story and outstanding illustrations!

A MAP OF REALITY

by MaryAnne Kolton

Bethann Dean was huge, like the Goodyear blimp, only rounder.  And only in front.  If you were walking behind her, you wouldn’t even know she was pregnant.  She stood on the driveway, in the dark, next to the car, with her pink polka dot, overnight bag, looking … determined?  Impatient?  Resigned?  Hard to tell.  Lloyd raced from room to room, making sure all the lights were off, throwing some salmon kibble at the cat dish and grabbing several energy bars.

“Lloyd, please!” she hollered.  She had yelled these same two words, at exactly the same volume and with the identical tone of exigency, on the afternoon the blimp had been created.  Lloyd’s parents were on a cruise.  The couple was on his bed, her legs wrapped tight around his lower back.  He didn’t have a condom and she wasn’t on the pill.  They had been dating for three months.  He had graduated from high school three days before.  Bethann had one more year to go.

BETH

Thanks to all those at Inwood Indiana for the release of Harvest Time, which contains my story BETH. Page 271. The online copy is available by visiting the website and clicking the “Current Issue” link. http://InwoodIndiana.com  The paperback issue will be forthcoming in several days.

Beth

by MaryAnne Kolton

Beth hoped she might at last be unhooked from the shame of her errant father and manipulative mother now that they were both dead, but she soon learned it didn't work that way.  Her depression deepened and the tapes of “not good enough, never will be, just like your father”  refused to be stilled.  Barely audible, they swarmed like gnats around her head.  The non-stop voices of her parents gave her headaches so violent that she was unable to complete the course work for the last semester of her business class.  She failed to eat, lost too much weight and spent days in bed.  She slept the hours away.  Depression settled deep into the pores of her skin. 

At some point during the next three weeks when she crawled out of bed to go to the bathroom, Beth stood in front of the sink and risked a glance at the mirror.  She was shocked by what she saw there.  An emaciated woman of indeterminate age looked out at her.  Filthy hair hanging from her head in clumps, face grey with grime, soiled, tattered pajamas hanging from a skeletal frame.  Beth tilted her head and listened, startled by the near silence.  The voices were so muted she was hardly able to make out what they were saying.

A Fresh, Compelling, New Voice With An Old Soul: An Interview With Tupelo Hassman

Thanks to Melissa at Her Circle Ezine  http://www.hercircleezine.com/2012/06/15/19998/

A startling debut that is unsettling, curious and heart-winning. In Girlchild: a novel, Tupelo Hassman’s account of Rory Dawn Hendrix’s youth is complete with trauma, redacted diary pages and endearing prose.

JUST DESSERTS

Many thanks to Meg and the crew at Connotation Press for publishing this one!

http://connotationpress.com/fiction/1436-maryanne-kolton-fiction

Joellyn started fingering portions of the desserts into her mouth.  Her eyes filled with tears.  The thick, blue-black mascara on her lashes threatened to trail down her all too rosy cheeks.  She ate the sweets, shoving each portion in her mouth and forcing herself to swallow. . .