Meet Sudden Denouement Collective Member David Lohrey

The editors of Sudden Denouement Literary Collective know that our strength is our writers. We hope that you enjoy getting to know them through our new Writer Interview Series.

What name do you write under?

David Lohrey

In what part of the world do you live?  Tell us about it.

I live in Tokyo, Japan.

Please tell us about yourself.

I am originally from New York, then off to Memphis where I grew up. I was educated in California and lived out there for nearly 30 years. I left the country in 2009 and haven’t been back except for short holidays in Hawaii.

If you have a blog or website, please provide the name and the link.

https://davlohrey.wordpress.com/

When did you begin your blog/website, and what motivated you start it?

Just 2 years ago or so…I keep it as a repository only of my published stuff. I do not write on the blog directly.

What inspires/motivates you to keep blogging on your site?

I copy and past stuff onto there but it really only functions as a file.

When did you join the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective?

It has been a couple of years now.

Why/how did you join Sudden Denouement?

I was submitting around at the time and got a nice reply from Jasper whose support I found unique.

What does “Divergent Literature” mean to you?

Divergent suggests out of the mainstream, nonconformist.

SD Founder Jasper Kerkau frequently talks about Sudden Denouement writers using the ‘secret language’. What is it?

I think he means indirect or guarded. It suggests that writing is a survival tool.
What are your literary influences?

D.H. Lawrence, Doris Lessing, and Harold Pinter are favorites.

Has any of your work been published in print?  (books, literary magazines, etc.) How did that happen?

I submit daily, few make it.

Do you have writing goals?  What are they?

Right now my goal is to put together a second volume of poems.

Which pieces of your own writing are your favorites?  Please share a few links.

https://literallystories2014.com/2018/01/10/maximilian-or-maximum-security-by-david-lohrey/

https://www.munsterlit.ie/Southword/Issues/33/poems/lohrey_david.html

http://tuckmagazine.com/2017/12/07/poetry-1162/
What else would like to share about your writing, Sudden Denouement, or yourself?

I am very grateful to find such a supportive community.

 

Meet Sudden Denouement Collective Member Mick Hugh

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The editors of Sudden Denouement Literary Collective know that our strength is our writers. We hope that you enjoy getting to know them through our new Writer Interview Series.

What name do you write under?

I write under the name Mick Hugh. It’s more a homophone than an actual psuedonym, but I’m stuck working straight-tie jobs for a living and need some anonymity. I already have a hard enough time explaining background-check anomalies.

In what part of the world do you live?  Tell us about it.

An hour west of New York City. From here, 30min west you’re in Appalachia, pitch-black forested hills at night, and 30min east you’re in the gray urban sprawl of howling Essex County. This is an interesting region; though boring, being so inbetween the extremes. Pick-up trucks picking up day-laborers and BMWs driving to corporate parks.

Please tell us about yourself.  

I started writing seriously in college. Spent a summer on an empty campus wandering around writing a novel, dropped out, moved to a different city with a friend, hitchhiked around, then was homeless, wandered back home, fell in love, moved to another city, worked odd-jobs, finished my degree (journalism); am raising a son, working full-time, and dragging my ass out of bed early AM to write in the dark morning’s quiet.

If you have a blog or website, please provide the name and the link.

MicksNeonFog.com

When did you begin your blog/website, and what motivated you start it?

Mick’s Neon Fog is my fourth or fifth blog. I had a journal-blog in college, then a blog about hitchhiking and “urban-camping”, then some other ones, then finally landed a form that fit well. And so stuck with it. They’re poems without stanzas, which might seem lazy, but they’re too cathartic to pay attention to line breaks. That’s my motivation – the blog’s a release valve.

What inspires/motivates you to keep blogging on your site?

The dim hope of someday writing for a living. I can’t think of anything more freeing than not having to take orders from people, and being able to sit and think and write (and of course hitchhiking to book-signings). Though, the blog’s been half-full, on a good week. I started farming poems (actual, stanza’d poems) out to magazines, to see if they’ll turn a penny or an eye. That, and I started a novel again, finally.

When did you join the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective?

November of 2016. I thought Jasper was pulling my leg when he first emailed me.

Why/how did you join Sudden Denouement?

A few weeks after starting Mick’s Neon Fog I got an email from Jasper. I thought he was full of shit. Someone wanted me as a contributor? I was floored. The whole SD community is an excellent thing to be part of. It’s the frontier of literature for the digital age. I joined because that excites the shit out of me.

What does “Divergent Literature” mean to you?

Weirdos who scribble weird poems in weird little dark rooms, valuing messy, raw honesty over the picket-fence poetics that somehow garner national acclaim.

SD Founder Jasper Kerkau frequently talks about Sudden Denouement writers using the ‘secret language’. What is it?

Metaphors. That’s the secret language of every artist. If we leave everything to definitions and boundaries, there’s no freedom. A good metaphor suggests something clear without defining it, sullying it. SD writers, like every good writer, want freedom from something, or everything. As to our specific SD secret language, there’s clearly a lot of overlap in what we’re each trying to break away from.

What are your literary influences?

I’ve a stupid breadth of literary interests. Top of the list for influences, Sylvia Plath and DF Wallace.

Has any of your work been published in print?  (books, literary magazines, etc.) How did that happen?

I came across Vagabonds: Anthology of the Mad Ones shortly after bumming around the country. So I wrote a prose-poem about friends taking turns driving with their eyes shut down the highway. That was my first published piece. Then, a short story in Digging Through the Fat (I think that was it), then just SD. I just sent out a crop of poems (yes, with actual stanzas), so hopefully I can add to the list, soon.

Do you have writing goals?  What are they?

I want to write for a living. I don’t want to take orders from people, and I don’t want to give people orders. I want a quiet farm house in PA close enough that I can bum around Philly as I please. And I’d like a Master’s in English. I think it’d be rad to be an English professor smelling of beer and tweed, scribbling madly in the mornings before yelling about Proust to a bunch of stunned Freshmen.

Which pieces of your own writing are your favorites?  Please share a few links.

My favorites are the last 3 poems I’ve finished. I sent them out for money, and so haven’t published them elsewhere. The last few pieces are a big notch of improvement.

What else would like to share about your writing, Sudden Denouement, or yourself?

It’s write or die. It’s life on our own terms or it’s a slow death on our knees. Society determines success by how many people we stand on, and unless the few of us can blaze a road out of this human cluster-fuck, we’re all doomed. Writing is radical. The best writing is a great metaphor that bursts our boundaries. And that’s the only thing that’ll save anyone, bursting out of these dishonest boundaries. I feel like I should end with something hopeful, but I’m really not in the mood. Write on, SD!

 

Meet Sudden Denouement Collective Member Basilike Pappa

IMG_Basilike Pappa

The editors of Sudden Denouement Literary Collective know that our strength is our writers. We hope that you enjoy getting to know them through our new Writer Interview Series.

What name do you write under?

Under my own, which is actually Vassiliki. Its transliteration into English destroys it, so now it’s Basilike. Doesn’t sound exactly right, but looks better. Pronounced Ba-SEE-lee-kee, by the way.

In what part of the world do you live?  Tell us about it.

For the past five years I’ve been living in Trikala, in central Greece. Having moved here from Athens, I sometimes want to stab the quiet flow of life in the back; other times I feel there is nothing like sitting under the shadow of plane trees next to the river Letheus.

Most people here move by bicycle. I must be the only person in town who doesn’t know how to ride one.

If you were here and wanted to see Greece’s history in five buildings, I’d take you to the Asclepion and the Roman baths, the Byzantine fortress and the mosque of Osman Shah. For some bad, unimaginative late 20th century architecture, I could show you any building in the center.

Bad news: this is not a seaside town and the summers here are blazing.

Good news: the mountains are near if you like the forest. I do.

Please tell us about yourself.  

Some words and some people’s voices have flavors. This happens mostly in Greek. The word skopós, for example, tastes like wafer when it means ‘purpose,’ but has no taste at all when it means ‘guard.’

Katey Sagal’s voice is peanut butter. She makes me want to grab a jar and eat it to the end.

I love saving old furniture from the streets and giving them a second chance. My bedside table is such an abandoned piece. I’ve painted it black and orange – its former bedroom wouldn’t recognize it.

The historical time I find most intriguing is the Middle Ages. Even though I know that if I lived then, I wouldn’t stand a chance.

Don’t tell anyone, but I don’t like Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. Twice I tried to read it, twice I felt as if they sentenced me to twenty years of boredom.

I’d love to live forever in a Michel Cheval painting.

If you have a blog or website, please provide the name and the link.

My blog is Silent Hour

When did you begin your blog/website, and what motivated you start it?

I started my blog in 2017, after publishing some poems and stories on online magazines. I was happy that the editors liked my work, but I had no way of knowing how many people read it and what they thought of it. The blog gave me the chance to see if anyone cares about what I write.

What inspires/motivates you to keep blogging on your site?

My inspiration comes from a book I read, a song I heard, a painting I saw; from a single line that comes to mind and waits there for its perfect match to turn up; and from personal experiences.

The writer friends I’ve made through my blog are also an inspiration. Their work is both a reading pleasure and a writing lesson.

When did you join the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective?

May 2018.

Why/how did you join Sudden Denouement?

Sudden Denouement had captured my attention from the beginning of my blogging life. It featured some amazing talents. I got to know some of them better and write with them. When I was officially asked to join, I felt very honored.

What does Divergent Literature mean to you?

Divergent is the literature that cooks with idiosyncratic salt and unorthodox spice, to produce dishes of anomalous virtue. Not a big fan of conventional vegetables, it only serves them as amuse-bouches accompanied with bottles of quicksilver.

SD Founder Jasper Kerkau frequently talks about Sudden Denouement writers using the ‘secret language’. What is it?

You know, when you are traveling by car with friends, and there is no need for music to be on, no one feels they should speak, and you can all enjoy the ride within a warm silence? That sounds like the secret language, I think.

What are your literary influences?

I wish I had the twisted imagination of Edgar Allan Poe, the dark humor of Fay Weldon, the surrealism of Achille Campanile, the cleverness of Daniel Handler, the skill of Zoe Heller, the wit of Oscar Wilde, the sensuality of M. Karagatsis.

Has any of your work been published in print?  (books, literary magazines, etc.) How did that happen?

I haven’t published anything myself. My poems Melinda’s Long Scarf Syndrome, Ulula and Marriage a la Mode are in the printed winter 2017 issue of Rat’s Ass Review.

Do you have writing goals?  What are they?

To go on writing. And  to complete a collection of fairytale and myth re-tellings.

Which pieces of your own writing are your favorites?  Please share a few links.

How Demons Get their Wings

Melinda’s Long Scarf Syndrome

Helix

What else would you like to share about your writing, Sudden Denouement, or yourself?

 

I’m never going to author words that sound like music in a bag

or grammar stones wrapped in newsletters.

I’ll cover me in paper leaves, lull me gently, ink my wires

and either I’ll become a microcosm of re-imagined senses

or, I swear, I’ll turn into a perfectly tuned clock.

 

Discover Sunday: Bonfire Nocturnalia (Linoleum)/Willie Watt

(and) she asks me whether, “archetypical
beginnings
undermine the rest of
the poem?”

or
whether,

“their self-awareness

prevents
the poem
from discovering
something deeper? more
authentic?”

and
I said,

“it’s an academic question.
it doesn’t matter.
none of my poems are self-aware.”

(and) I’m on a mobius strip
magic carpet—

a syncopated wavelength—
and you duct-taped your brain to the linoleum
and wondered
at the way
things became so ashen
so quickly.

I lit your cigarettes
even when you blew the smoke in my face.

(and) the elevator is
going
down,

down,

down,

and it’s like those surreal childhood memories
(the floor is lava)
that you remember
when listening to an old song
for the
first time
in
a
long time.

(and) I’ve suffered through so many
nightmares—
bonfires of nocturnalia—
that the cracks
in the linoleum
allow the oversized
insects
into the breach.

(and) because
I’ve
asked you to kill me,
and because
I’ve
asked you to hate me,
now
might be a bad time to ask you
to make me
something
other than what I am, baby.

save me from the drunken diatribes
and
swaying lines.
save me from the postmodern cynicism
and
high tides.

it’s high time
we grew up
and grew past
these marijuana-colored skylines.

(and) your ghost
is the only thing
that eradicates the roaches nestling in my brain,
that saturates my vanity and sanity in concurrent saline solutions,
that draws blood from the lips of shame and memory and feeds vampiric on its undergrowth,
that wages war on agony
and always
emerges
bloodstained
but intact.

another relapse of reason
and I
can only bypass
the breakdown
when one of your phantoms
is near—

hidden
in the
linoleum.

Excerpt from Swear to Me


Willie Watt is a student, short story writer, and poet from Houston Texas. In his work he strives to capture the many contradictions and as-yet-unwritten phenomena of life in the twenty-first century. Currently an English major at the University of Texas at Austin, he plans to attend a graduate program in creative writing before going on to teach, write, and lecture professionally.”

Discover Sunday: Inhale/Willie Watt

Blood on the bedroom leaves.
Forest in every direction—juniper, oak, willow.
Autumn.

I haven’t been writing many
poems lately.

You’ve overcome so many corpse-strewn battlefields.
But I’m worried it’ll be my accidental shining reality that becomes the sword through your armor.

Writing seriously now, I guess. Prose. Careful edits. Peer reviews.
No time for natural gifts
or
free association.

Contrary to popular belief, I’m not opposed to happy endings.
Squinting, I can see one in your eyelashes—at least a bittersweet metamodern fadeout.

These have been my best works yet.
But will it be enough?
Have I set the target too perilously high?

I’d do anything to break your cycle of self-torment.
Well, almost anything.
I couldn’t compromise myself even if I wanted to.
Not anymore.
Too much is set in motion.

THC & Caffeine & Nicotine & Alcohol & Adderall.
I can write on anything.
It doesn’t matter anymore.
I’m becoming as good as I thought I could be, and its as real as it is unreal—as satisfying as it is shocking.

I know you love me.
You don’t use the word. Afraid of frightening me off, I guess.
Instead, you say, “you scare me.”
I wonder if you know that I’ve decrypted your code?—would you just out and say it if you knew that I knew?

I’ve become realistic as the golden days approach.
Ironic.
The more I understand my unrealistic greatness, the less I daydream impossibilities.
The long-shots have become not just possible, but probable.

I want to make it work. I mean it. Really.
I just hope we can keep ourselves in the process.
I know I will, for my part.
Can you do the same?
I like to think so.
Not sure, though. If I’m honest.

Ink on paper. Digital transcription.
So many hundreds of thousands of words.
I’ve got to be nearing that ten-thousandth hour.

Don’t panic.
Inhale.
We’ll get where we’re going.
One way or another.


Willie Watt is a student, short story writer, and poet from Houston Texas. In his work he strives to capture the many contradictions and as-yet-unwritten phenomena of life in the twenty-first century. Currently an English major at the University of Texas at Austin, he plans to attend a graduate program in creative writing before going on to teach, write, and lecture professionally.”

broken-OldePunk/RamJet Poetry

BY OLDEPUNK broken
some of us are just broken
born of dust and little disappointments
bleak barrow bones and lamented jewels
made of helpless tears and midnight fears
saltpeter and cobwebs, nickel and newt
lost toys that cost joy
cast of glass and weakness
the forlorn reborn in submission
forced into place even when
the pieces never fit
a cross-threaded screw
muck on the sandal of a forgotten god
a chewed up pen
dull pencil with no eraser
primer painted wagon
with busted wheels
many things of little use
an alchemical composition
turning gold to lead,crack and peel
the Narcissist stone!
you do not understand
as the dead envy the living, so
do the broken hate the anointed, you
as i hate you
as I hate myself
the chipped stone defacing a masterpiece
mold on the Monet
dry rot in the wall
asbestos in the halls
toxic relations and divorces
aria of dissonant discourses
some of us are just broken
one of the unchosen
I am the name it always hurts to say
the reflected shadow at the window pane
you will recall we just were
not the same
the broken one will eat the blame
cherry wood ashes and goat’s hair
shell casings and a hangman’s prayer
the puzzle with the missing pieces
a chill wind that never ceases
bitter pills and wounded pride
all of the shit you try to hide
the hateful words that were spoken
these are the desolate ways
 
we are broken