Meet Sudden Denouement Collective Member Iulia Halatz


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?
Iulia Halatz

In what part of the world do you live? Tell us about it.
I live in Bucharest, Romania, a small beautiful country in South-East Europe, washed by the Black Sea, watered by the Danube, cleansed by the Danube Delta, guarded by the Carpathian Mountains, envisaged in many stories and legends. I have written more about the magic of my country here.

About my Romanian soul I can say only these:
I am Romanian
I tremble with the moon
Building shapes of light
Into rippling pools
After the rain of summer…

Please tell us about yourself.
I am a teacher with 22 years’ experience and I manage my own school of languages.
I am a passionate cyclist. I never say: “I am happy”, but I say: “I am cycley.” (Of course, inspired by J. M. Barrie).
My power sentence (one of them) is: “Stories are our meat and our magic.” Nevertheless, because our culture doesn’t think storytelling is (still) sacred, I have to keep it rolling, keep writing and telling until I’ve got it half licked.
I like to picture myself as a silver-tongued storyteller holding on to Nature and imagination. I inhabit the stories I write…
Whenever people do not “speak” to me, I resort to the powerful communicative skills of the world, I visit a tree and the lake and I start writing a story to have new armour and new citadel…I’ve got it twofold licked.

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

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

Some time ago I was put in a prison. The bars and locks were invisible to the eye, but essential. Then I started forging a way to freedom, a secret underground passage. Paved with words painted in blood. The bars and locks flung open and the dungeon became my imago mundi.

What inspires/motivates you to keep blogging on your site?
For me writing is a form of freedom…
It is like digging for gold. I keep on digging and excavating until the steel of words
transmutes into gold of wonder….
I keep on writing but not publishing on my blog (for a while). I was sort of harassed through my blog so I decided to keep silent for a while. But I write new pieces for SD and new bricks for finishing building my imago mundi.

When did you join the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective?

Towards the end of last year.

Why/how did you join Sudden Denouement?
I am a follower of SD and I got to know that you were looking for collaborators.
So… I put all my joy in a letter and a poem. The rest is history.

What does “Divergent Literature” mean to you?
Divergently FreeWriters
Divergent literature is for me a brush of green-warm air above the sea, aliver than life itself. Is represents a hubristic place of wonder.
I have written more here

SD Founder Jasper Kerkau frequently talks about Sudden Denouement writers using the ‘secret language’. What is it?
It is (for me) speaking and writing in many alphabets, there is an alphabet for Love, an alphabet for Freedom, one for the lust for Life…

What are your literary influences?
My ordinary order in any given pub is: “Coffee and Somerset for me.” Somerset as in Somerset Maugham.
Magnificent and humble storyteller: “Will, love, and imagination are magic powers that everyone possesses; and whoever knows how to develop them to their fullest extent is a magician. Magic has but one dogma, namely, that the seen is the measure of the unseen.”
He could peer in the depth of the human soul. He measures it in tales not fathoms.
Mr. Michael Ondaatje has no longer divided time in Minutes, but in Loves. “The heart is an organ of fire.” Our minds, body, limbs, souls are organs of fire.
Jack London: “Who are you, Martin Eden? He demanded of himself in the looking-glass, that night when he got back to his room. He gazed at himself long and curiously. Who are you? What are you? Where do you belong?”
I would name his “mythology” The Moon and the Sixpence, he trudged for the both.

Has any of your work been published in print? (books, literary magazines, etc.) How did that happen?
No, it hasn’t. But I am working on. I do wish that to happen.

Do you have writing goals? What are they?
To have the clarity of a poem by Michael Ondaatje.
To write the truest sentences/stanzas that I know.
To develop my blue alphabet of the Silent Spring, as “language is luckless and limitless”.
I am of the opinion that the good people have created mythologies. I would like to create one of my own.

Which pieces of your own writing are your favorites? Please share a few links.
Persephone’s Dusk
The Merman’s Rhyme
Steal The Sun

What else would like to share about your writing, Sudden Denouement, or yourself?
As my word is freedom, for me Sudden Denouement is the purest form of freedom on the rarest of quests. I feel my imagination roaming the fields and painting walls in search of wild horses. The words I have found on SD open for me more and more eyes every day. I am a newborn Argus.

Crow Black and Cardinal Red Kindra M. Austin & Matthew Eayre

Of explosive mourning is born the night
rising low in my rib cage
Obsidian heart cooling in its crate,
cold enough to freeze the devils in
Usurp the king’s wings, crow black and cruel,
This is my coronation day

Raucous laughter celebrates the coming dawn
falling gently upon my brow
Scarlet song issuing from opened chest,
warm enough to thaw glaciers under oceans
Wrest away throne of bone, cardinal red and salacious,
This is my exaltation

I’ve got worms in my veins,
fertilizing melancholy
Holy blood boils
bone and sinew
See what love has left me

Rows of nightshade
line my grave as I burrow
guarding from paradise
my hands dig for solitude

All gone suddenly,
swallowed by big nothing,
they’re buried within the
layers of my skin—
the women I’d adored
like red soaked wool itching my soul,

My attention brings pain, my adoration
sorrowful suffering
the pieces of my life
wrapped in coddling clothes and
funeral shrouds, held in hands
too strong to let go

© Kindra M. Austin/Matthew Eayre

(image by diagonite on

Kindra M. Austin is an indie author (her books can be found here, a founding member of Indie Blu(e), and a writer/managing editor at Sudden Denouement, Blood Into Ink, and Whisper and the Roar. A Sagittarius Valkyrie from the state of Michigan, she likes craft beer, and classic big block muscle cars. You can find her filing through the souls of the slain at poems and paragraphs.

Matthew D Eayre is recently planted in Houston, Texas and hoping to grow roots. A lifelong lover of words and language, he writes every chance he gets when not delivering smiles or spending time with his loving wife and family. Matthew has only one rule in life and in writing; it has to be real. He writes from personal experience about life, love and loss. He bridges the light spectrum from darkness to light, hoping that somewhere out there he reaches those who need to be reached. You can find more of his brilliant work on his site,  Uneven Streets Studiosand his Facebook page Poetry of Monsters

Penance- Kindra M. Austin and Sarah Doughty

I said I’d be your wings,
so you hired a flat-felled seamstress
topstitched me to your back.

Save me, you say
when jumping off bridges.

And this is my penance,
or hoping you would thrive —
not take risks with your life.

But yet, there you are,
jumping with blind faith
that I will keep you from
landing at Death’s door.

I’m sorry, I say
when I realize I have failed you.
Stanzas 1&2 © Kindra M. Austin

Stanzas 3-5 © Sarah Doughty

Kindra M. Austin is an indie author (her books can be found here, a founding member of Indie Blu(e), and a writer/managing editor at Sudden Denouement, Blood Into Ink, and Whisper and the Roar. A Sagittarius Valkyrie from the state of Michigan, she likes craft beer, and classic big block muscle cars. You can find her filing through the souls of the slain at poems and paragraphs.

Sarah Doughty is the tingling wonder-voice behind Heartstring Eulogies. She’s also the author of The Silence Between Moonbeams, her poetry chapbook, and the acclaimed novels and novellas of the Earthen Witch Universe. Good news, they’re all offered for free, right here! To learn more about how awesome Sarah is, check out her website, stalk her on Goodreads, or both.


Weaving Manannan’s Mists- Allie Nelson & Jonathan O’Farrell

That secret language
can the speaking
no less writing of it
be upon us this day.
For we may set sail
for that furthest shore
the star that is by us
relative of myth and Manannan.

But first the stillness
that’s in it must you peer
and lips imbibe
his brew of mists weaved.
Seer hazel guarded source
will find you soonest
with heron and salmon,
brethren by sisteren.

All that you need
in the setting sail
of that intent
a blessing, trianaid.
Upon you the finding will be
a task, a guide, the words
writ legend as Oisin, Niamh
eternal releasing your mythic death.

As Sinann flows with the salmon of wisdom,
so too does Manannan ride the waves of wanderlust
searching farthest shores for sweet succour at
swan maiden’s breast and selkies’ moonlit whispers. There is a gate at the Isle of Avalonian apples Manannan makes a cider of immortality and ushers on souls on a dapple steed Nuada Silverhand guards the gates of gold under waters thick and cold as the Morrigan’s heart this magic is breathtaking and breaking, the
Trickster Lord of the Waters, Manannan Mac Lir
is tempest usurpant, enchanter disguised by starlight
and they say if you cry seven tears into the high tide
and whisper the secrets of your heart, Manannan will
appear under his mistress moon, take his driftwood staff
and knight you and lift you up to be tithe to peace.
Ride him into the afterlife, on shoulders sun leather,
Breathe in the salt of sweat and ages on Atlantic
dive deep and pluck pearl hearts, and know, Manannan’s
stride is ten league boots, and you are walking on the
shore into the faraway place where dusk light kisses
a smoky sea horizon, and all is calm swells in his hall
so eat Arthurian apples, sweet as roses, and remember
it twas Mananan that found you and brought you home!

Image by Jonathan O’Farrell

Allie is a rather bubbly blonde that currently attends grad school for science communication, has a rather useless degree in biology, and works in the environmental field. She can usually be found hugging trees, eating green curry with tofu, or exploring the wilds of D.C.. Allie is an avid poet, aspiring author, meme queen, speculative fiction enthusiast, and alien centaur aficionado. She also has about 600 lipsticks.

You can find her at Dances With Tricksters

Jonathan O’Farrell: “I guess you might describe me as a semi-nomad, at the moment . . . and in the moment, I might change. I am transitioning into a creative life, blogging, photography and, significantly, the publication of my first two photographically illustrated poetry anthologies, this year.”

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When Speaking to a Unicorn- Kindra M. Austin and Stephen Fuller

Once upon a time,
I asked a unicorn to dance
Seemed lonely in the field
Eating rainbow spelt 
And candied corn

A whisper snuck into my ear, 
A wistful breeze
Had been searching 
Ever since the sun
Began to shine, 

A rogue child

Have courage child, 
Walk up to her
Don’t ask about the horn, 
Not yet, she knows you know, 
She wants to be seen a part 

The sweet beast, bastardized by
Fictions fashioned by man,
Is sensitive to ill-hearted hearts;
No discernment is greater than that of

Approach with trueness, and no
Regard for self;
Be a leaf carried on the breeze,
Or a ray of sunlight breaking through the
Oak trees

Speak to her with kaleidoscopic words

Run up the hill
Osculate me
Yearning to
Glow like a 
Inviting my

She sees you
Like light in night
She hears you
A song for the sea
She becomes
Something that flies
And you, boy, you 
See truth ray-written
On a single leaf

Western zephyr you must trust
As she does
Spread confident wings,
Iridescent ‘neath the drowsing eyes of Helios
Rise up with the Luna Moth and greet Sister Selene

Once upon a time,
I asked a unicorn to dance
Seemed lonely in the field
Eating rainbow spelt 
And candied corn

© Kindra M. Austin/Stephen Fuller

Kindra M. Austin is an indie author (her books can be found here, a founding member of Indie Blu(e), and a writer/managing editor at Sudden Denouement, Blood Into Ink, and Whisper and the Roar. A Sagittarius Valkyrie from the state of Michigan, she likes craft beer, and classic big block muscle cars. You can find her filing through the souls of the slain at poems and paragraphs.

Stephen Fuller:

“I am a writer.

Those words always feel foreign.

Yet, since one week after my 15th birthday, I have had this compulsion to write poetry, mostly. Rilke told his young poet friend to look inside and decide if you must write, and if you must, write.

I must.

Not sure I know how not to.”

You can read more of Steve’s writing at Pointed Home

Discover Sunday: Where Beauty Resides/David Redpath

The bells of liberty
by your stockings rung
The deepest restraints
in my hands … undone
Like a flake of snow
your sacrament melting
upon my thirsting tongue
Quenched in the ocean
of love’s perfection
Down on bended knees
lost in the squeeze
of your wholly communion
To ride the high tide
of hard won freedom
Yet, I’m a captive slave
to your will being done

Your angels singing
a silent prayer
that rents the air
A rosebud opening
to the dawn
of a new morning
The Sun reborn
arising from darkness
The sweetest caress
A portrait in the painting
upon a canvas of wonder
The joining in oneness
The joy outstretching
to your throne of happiness
Fingers and toes
like tender tendrils
of a celestial ebb and flow
Above and below
ecstasy in the throes
My letter of love sent
The walls of containment
imploded and spent
upon your arriving
with the napalm
of no bodily harm
Chiming with the ringing
of your silent alarm
Fair land of contentment
wherever my beauty lies
In the arms of the beholder
forever binding
those loving ties

our destiny hides
near or far
always and whatsoever
true beauty abides
Love triumphant
ever the prize
Lovers together
riding side by side
Our universe unfolding
through whispered sighs
Upstanding and victorious
under crystal clear skies
whatever the weather
It is always glorious
through heaven’s eyes
Here and there
as the eagle glides
Yet always near
deep in my heart
where your beauty resides

by david redpath © 2018

Watercolour by Salvador Dali