Robert James Russell

Midwestern Gothic wasn’t started on a whim or by freak accident—the idea to explore literature and writing in the Midwest, the region I’ve called home my entire life, was important to me. A place I shunned during my youth, a place I vowed at one time to never set foot in again, kept calling me home…and I’m thankful for that. I love this place, I’d like to think I understand it, and it speaks to me—all things I’m immensely proud of. That being said, the mission of Midwestern Gothic has always been to explore and support the “Midestern voice” in literature and poetry, and I’m excited to announce we’re taking it one step further this coming March.

Introducing Voices of the Middle West: A Celebration of Writers and Independent Presses.

The festival is a culmination of months of work, and I am proud of how it’s shaping up. The idea is to bring together writers and presses from all over the Midwest in order to celebrate and discuss the Midwestern voice in literature. There will be an all-day bookfair and various panels as well featuring authors and publishers and editors talking about a host of things. At the end of the day there will be a special keynote speech from lifelong Midwesterner Curtis Sittenfeld, author of the bestselling novels Sisterland, American Wife, Prep, and The Man of My Dreams.

This is, looking at it now, a natural progression for how things are going at Midwestern Gothic, a chance to celebrate literature and poetry in the Midwest on a grander scale…to showcase my own love for this place, the stories we create here, the uniqueness of it, to share all of this with folks from all over the region and beyond. All-in-all it should be a fantastic day, and I urge anyone that’s able to attend.

Check out the following links for more information:

Event Schedule / Directions and Parking

Presenters

Bookfair Information / Exhibitor List

Facebook Event (RSVP)

 

I’m honored to have my story “Smoke and Gold” in Squalorly #6:

At the edge, a guard rail—not much of one. She stood there in her tank top and homemade cut-off khaki shorts, crumpled hair blowing in the wind. She clutched her body, arms wrapped around herself. Used to be that was my job. But I kept my distance. She turned and looked at me, forced a smile again, looked back out at the water.

Squalorly is a fantastic journal and I’m thrilled to be included in such a fine issue. Also: They found a killer banner for my piece, a perfect fit. Can’t stop staring at it…

In his introduction of the text, writer Geoff Dyer calls Jean Baudrillard’s America a “spectacular album of rhetorical postcards and road notes.”

How true.

A book I’ve been meaning to get to for a long while, America is an absolute treat—through Baudrillard’s eyes we see the United States through virgin light: to witness the sights and sounds and scenes and the people and our habits and customs. It creates dialog within oneself, a dialog that cuts through political ideologies and religious red-tape we face daily—the sorts of things that can be the cause of self-wars deep within our minds—and seeks to understand, simply, “What makes us tick?”

It’s an engaging read that, while heavily philosophical, borders more on road trip diary, a text you can envision as you read; Baudrillard’s language lilts off the page as he describes vast deserts and Vegas and Minneapolis (“with its sweet-sounding name, its gossamer string of vowels”) and you can’t help but be carried away by it all.

It’s a short read, a powerful read, and I’d highly recommend America to just about anyone everyone. 

A few of my favorite passages:

“As soon as you set foot in America, you feel the presence of an entire continent — space there is the very form of thought.”

“America is the original version of modernity. [Europe] is the dubbed or subtitled version. America ducks the question of origins; it cultivates no origin or mythical authenticity; it has no past and no founding truth.”

“The marathon is a form of demonstrative suicide, suicide as advertising: it is running to show you are capable of getting every last drop of energy out of yourself, to prove it…to prove what? That you are capable of finishing. Graffiti carry the same message. They simply say: I’m so-and-so and I exist! They are free publicity for existence.”

“May I never be complete. May I never be content. May I never be perfect.”
―Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

One of my all-time favorite books, Fight Club revolutionized (for me) what a novel could be. What an author could write. And how they could write it.

I also really, really like the film. So it was pretty cool to stumble on this clip with a digitally-removing Brad Pitt/Tyler Durden. Seeing Jack talk to himself is disturbingly cool. Sure, I miss Tyler’s sweet red leather jacket (which I so tried to buy for myself when I was college to no avail), but this is a pretty great way to view the film—and accurate, too.

You can find my short story “To Kill Them to Break Them” in Poiesis Review No. 6, which is now available for purchase.

A sample: The man had surprised the boy—moved in up behind fast from the darkest corner of the cabin—but the boy, quick and sure-footed, dodged and grabbed the knife that had been dropped—the one used for snuffing out his mother’s light—and stuck the man in the gut. The boy kept hold of the handle as the man yipped, reached out with old, bone-thin fingers, scraping at the boy’s face. But the boy kept steadfast, shoved the knife in deep, wiggled it in both directions, opened the man up good, and watched as blood poured ceaseless.

Poiesis Review is a great publication, and I’m fortunate to be sharing the pages of No. 6 with some brilliant writers and poets. You can pick up a copy in either print or digital formats (the price is great for how much reading you’re getting). Also: The cover for this issue is absolutely gorgeous.

I announced last month a new journal I’m going to be running, CHEAP POP, which is devoted entirely to micro-fiction 500 words or less. I’m excited to announce that the journal is now live, and our very first piece—”Not for Women” by Joe Sacksteder—is up.

We plan on posting new stories every Tuesday and Thursday until the end of time, so check out Joe’s piece (a fantastic story that’s perfectly representative of what we’re looking for ), and spread the word. We have some really fantastic stories/authors lined up. Should be a good time.

A bit behind—I’ve been out of the country for the past two weeks—but I’m back and happy to announce that Midwestern Gothic Issue 12 (Winter 2014) is now available.

I look at the Midwestern Gothic catalog and it’s crazy to see how many we’ve done, how far we’ve come. Crazier to think we’re now in 2014—and that this year’s Spring issue will officially mark our three year anniversary. But one thing that consistently stands out is the quality of each issue published: I so often sing the praises of the newest issue, saying it is the best, usually because we continually gain the notice of amazing writers and poets who want to be published within our pages. Our goal is to do the Midwest region a service by showcasing the very best, and it’s pretty fantastic to think that we’re doing just that—no back-peddling here, none at all. I’m fortunate for the submissions we get, and if this first issue is any indication, I think 2014 is going to be another fantastic year for Midwestern Gothic.

Pick up a copy of Issue 12: $12 (Print), $2.99 (eBook).

My short story “Born to Ramble” was accepted for publication in Buffalo Almanack No. 2, which is now live (and online):

He had been searching since dawn for the origin of the small dark plume of smoke and by breakfast Eldon Painter found it: an abandoned campsite at the back of his property, a dell thick with basswood and hackberry and bur oak. All that was left were the smoldering charcoals of browned fallen brush stuffed in an old Folgers’ can—an Army trick — and a couple fast food wrappers half-buried nearby. The site had been pitched under a cluster of knotty honey locust whose branches roped together about fifteen feet up creating a natural covering from any inclement weather. He could just about make out indentations in the ground where two bodies—boys, possibly—had been arranged.

Buffalo Almanack is quickly becoming one of my favorite new journals, and I’m honored to be included in this issue alongside the wildly talented Jared Yates Saxton and many, many others. You can read the thing in its entirety here, which I highly recommend.

Also, they do illustrations for every piece they publish—which are always great—and the image for my story is below. I love it.

After a couple months of behind the scenes work and planning, I’m excited to finally announce my new venture: the online lit journal CHEAP POP.

This is completely independent of Midwestern Gothic (which is still very much my baby)—CHEAP POP just scratches a different sort of itch I’ve had for a while.

So, what’s our deal? Micro-fiction, 500 words or less. Bite-size nuggets of awesome writing. There are no regional or theme restrictions—we just want good writing, writing that pops.

I’m thrilled and honored to be working with the talented Elizabeth Schmuhl on this project. We’re going to start posting stories in January, a new one every Tuesday and Thursday. Submissions are open now, so if you have any flash fiction, or know anyone who does, check us out and spread the word.

Check out the CHEAP POP Submissions page for more information.

There is no denying the sparseness of Michigan, the relative quiet of its landscapes. History details that immigrants freshly-arrived from their home countries saw this specific region as one where the American Dream was alive and kicking—where they could have the land they desired to tend animals and raise crops. Where they could spread out, enjoy the natural bounties and raise families and, in general, be happy. And sure, cities sprang up here and there…eventually. But when you travel through Michigan, even today, that hushed, pastoral calm is what greets you: all that open space, perhaps a lone cow in the field, some undisturbed growth of beech or maple in the distance…and it is such a wonderful thing, being able to stretch out without fear of encroaching on someone else. Soaking it all in without all that noise pollution. Here’s to hoping that never changes.