Prickly Pear Issue 1: Desert/Water
Agave Press is thrilled to announce our newest quarterly publication, Prickly Pear Kids, debuting in print this winter. Inspired by colours and contrasts, textures and senses, culture and the natural world, Prickly Pear brings an accessible community of learning and creating to children aged 5-12 across the globe.
Calls for submissions are open until November 1st.
Agave Magazine is read in over 75 countries, and readership continues to grow thanks to the immensely talented writers, artists and photographers who fill our pages. Vol. 3, Issue 3 is titled Best of Agave--keep your eye out for its release later this year. In the meantime, calls for submissions for the following issue close November 1st.
We are looking for manuscripts, artistic portfolios and mixed-genre work to bring to print in our 2018 series. The deadline for submissions is December 1st. Further information can be found here.
Agave Press is pleased to offer a range of services, from book design to editing, writing and even website customisation. Get in touch!
Considering a collaboration with Agave Press? For details about our publications, including reviews, stats, and prices for our integrated support services, please send us a request for our 2017 media kit.
By Deb A.
Michael Onofrey's short story, Chardonnay, appeared in the Spring 2015 edition of Agave Magazine. This year he published his first novel, Bewilderment, a tale of a man returning home to Los Angeles after three decades abroad to care for his dying mother and come to terms with his memories. We took the opportunity to catch up with Michael and find out more about bringing Bewilderment to life.
AGAVE: You’ve written and published over 70 short stories, but this is your first novel. What was the most difficult aspect of moving from short fiction to a longer format, and what prompted you to make the leap?
MICHAEL ONOFREY: Actually, this is my first “published” novel. I wrote two others before Bewilderment, but they, thus far, haven’t been accepted for publication. But, regarding your question, the most difficult aspect in moving from short to long fiction is the investment of time. Bewilderment came off rather quickly, but the first novel I attempted didn’t. I thought it was done and I sent it out. But I understand now that it’s not done, and I want to return to it. Returning to that book represents a chunk of time. Returning to a short story doesn’t represent so much time.
I made the leap to that first novel because an agent had read a story of mine and sent me an email, asking if I had a novel going. A few weeks later a second agent sent me an email asking the same question. That agent, though, had read a different story. So I figured I should start writing a novel. But of course, like most fiction writers, a novel was something I wanted to try at some time. As a footnote, both those agencies turned down the novel (50 pages) that I sent them, which was the first novel I wrote.
One other thing: With short stories you have to keep thinking up new ideas, one after the other, as you move from one story to the next, which can be exhausting after a while. With a novel, once you got the idea you can start chewing on it without having to think up a new idea. In that sense a novel is kind of a relief. It’s not a bad policy to go back and forth between long and short fiction because it breaks up the monotony of one format going on and on and on.
What was the biggest challenge you faced in writing Bewilderment?
There were two big challenges. In the order that I dealt with them, the first was the handling of tense: past and present tense. Chapter 1 is present tense. Chapter 2 begins with past tense, but then switches to present tense at the story break on page 18. Chapter 3, a short chapter, is all past tense. So why did I go back and forth? The first reason was that it felt right, which is to say that it felt fresh. I thought it worked well, or at least worked well for me. In the first draft, I tried different approaches. I tried, for example, sticking with one tense throughout, present and then past, but in both cases the narration started to drag. Then I tried putting the Los Angeles scenes in present and India/Pakistan in past, but that was too pat, too formalistic, too mathematical. So I went with what felt right, which might appear random, but of course I went over this any number of times, so how could it have been random? At the same time, I liked the suggestion of random because it somehow served to enliven the narration in an organic way. And then, which leads to the second challenge, I thought that the play of tense would help bring memories into the present, kind of like how we have memories bubbling in our minds while we operate in the present.
The second challenge was how to suggest past and present coming close to one another, and in this regard the novel begins with the past (India) and the present (Los Angeles) far apart, but as the novel progresses the past and the present shift back and forth more rapidly, and so the distance between them narrows.
Many of the characters in Bewilderment deal with profound bouts of loneliness. Who do you feel deals best with the situation?
Evelyn. Evelyn is the most grounded, and in the end she is the one who moves beyond loneliness. Ironically, she is the one who has lost the most because she is the one who had the most. In addition, she worked for what she had, and then lost it.
What books did you learn from, and what lessons did you keep in mind while writing Bewilderment?
Like everyone else who writes (or wrote), I learned from a lot of books. But to name a few that I think were (and are) extremely pertinent, I’d single out How Fiction Works by James Wood and Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose. Along the lines of fictional work, there were (are) Madame Bovary (Lydia Davis translation) and A Sentimental Education (Douglas Parmée translation) by Gustave Flaubert. And the thing that kicked this whole deal off with regards to Bewilderment there was In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust (Penguin Classica Deluxe Edition, separate translators for each book, Lydia Davis doing Swann’s Way). Proust got me thinking about writing a novel that involved memory and memories. Another way of looking at it: Flaubert for realism, Proust for modernism.
Lessons I kept in mind? James Wood: narration, particularly free indirect style (moving between character’s eyes [or characters’ eyes] and author’s eyes, but I’m tempted to say narrator’s eyes and character’s eyes [characters’ eyes]), and then the arbitrary quality of memory which can yield the unexpected. Francine Prose: every rule regarding fiction has been broken at one time or another in a great work of fiction. But this doesn’t mean a free-for-all. It means doing what’s appropriate, which might mean breaking accepted rules. Flaubert: author ought to be careful in keeping his or her opinions out of the story. Proust: fiction is wide open; Proust wasn’t even sure if what he was writing was a novel.
Do you plan to write another novel?
I hope to.
Michael Onofrey's Bewilderment was published by Tailwinds Press. It is available in paperback and as an e-book.
By Deb A.
It's time once again to find out what the Agave staff will be reading behind sunglasses in this, our third annual Summer Reads blog.
Ariana, Founder and Editor-in-Chief
Like many, I am so excited about The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy, her first novel in 20 years. She is an absolute favourite of mine, and I am hoping to look past the lukewarm reviews of her latest efforts and devour every page.
Men Without Women by Haruki Murakami: My favourite living author, hands down. So this newest book of short stories made the list, easily.
Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman: A chance to lose one's imagination in fantasy and mystical tales of far away lands - sounds perfect.
Linda, Contributing Editor: Literature
The only thing on my list is American Gods by Neil Gaiman. With our new baby reading time is sparse but this is a must-read for me!
I'm reading The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, In The Fall by Jeffrey Lent, The Alice Network by Kate Quinn, and Wonder by R.J. Palacio (with the kids).
Deb, Blog Manager
This summer I'll be savouring my most recent surprise from my Year of Books subscription from Heywood Hill: Freya by Anthony Quinn. Every book I've received so far has been fascinating, so I'm eager to see how this one measures up. I'm also catching up on old editions of the now-defunct Lucky Peach magazine and whispering Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls by Elena Favilli and Francesca Cavallo and The Princess and the Pony by Kate Beaton to my children at bedtime.
Grant, Business Manager
We were recent winners of an online contest for Book of the Month Club. Each month you get a book of your choice sent to your home, and there are 100 books or so from which to choose. I'm looking forward to the joy of finding new books waiting for me in my mailbox.
Emily, Editor-at-Large : Art & Photography
Earlier this summer, Emily came across Felicia Day’s memoir, You’re Never Weird On The Internet (almost), and has related to almost nothing in it, but still finds it funny. She just bought Nicotine, by Nell Zink, because of the cover illustration, and hopes to start it soon. She also may start reading her son’s The Secret Series, by Pseudonymous Bosch because, again, the cover art is compelling.
By Deb A.
If you're in need of some inspiration to begin your week, look no further:
Art is good for us: On Wednesday the British Parliament will announce the results of its two-year inquiry into arts, health and wellbeing. In anticipation of the report, Nicci Gerrard offers an eloquent account of the role of arts in helping people with dementia. (The Guardian)
Beware the selfie: A single snapshot was to blame for the domino effect that knocked over a row of plinths holding $200,000 worth of art. Too perfectly awkward to be true? (The New York Times)
Sketching the unknown: How artists and researchers teamed up to find and introduce new species to the rest of the world. (The Atlantic)
Illustrator, cartoonist, trailblazer: Canadian artist Jillian Tamaki's new book of graphic short stories marks her emergence as a "consummate storyteller". (The Walrus)
Visual activist: Photographer Zanele Muholi highlights racism, homophobia, and hate with Somnyama Ngopnyama, Hail the Dark Lioness, a series of self-portraits she took every day for a year. The Guardian dedicates two spaces to her work, and rightly so: a striking photo gallery and a compelling article.
When is a Modigliani not a Modigliani? Twenty-one artworks have been confiscated from a major exhibition in Genoa after several were confirmed as fakes. (The Telegraph)
The Commuter Pig Keeper? You still have time to vote for the Oddest Book Title of the Year. (The Bookseller)
Agave alumna: Agave Magazine contributor Karla K. Morton's twelfth book, Wooden Lions, is now available.
By Deb A.
Happy new year, dear Readers! Here are a few items that might have slipped past you during your holiday celebrations.
Really, we could start and end this list right here: Jeremy Irons reads T.S. Eliot for BBC's Radio Four. The five-part series that ran on New Year's Day also includes commentary by Jeannette Winterson and other guests.
Joe Fassler at The Atlantic pulled together writing advice gleaned from his 15 interviews with writers in 2016.
A £5 note tucked into a Christmas card turned out to be one of four notes featuring a 5mm engraving of Jane Austen. The notes are estimated to be worth 10,000 times their face value. Two more remain unfound: British Readers, check your wallets for Graham Short's creations... you might not be able to see the portraits, but you can look for serial numbers AM32 885552 and AM32 885554.
The Guardian has kicked off "a series dedicated to culture that can uplift us in 2017" with six thinkers and creators sharing the works they rely on for a fresh burst of energy.
Art critic and writer John Berger died at age 90 on January 2nd. His "Ways of Seeing"--a BBC television series and subsequent book--tackled traditional thinking about art, including the relationship between art and advertising and the objectification of women: "to be naked is to be oneself; to be nude is to be seen by others and yet not recognised for oneself. A nude has to be seen as an art object in order to be seen as a nude."
Hyperallergic offered up its list of The 20 Most Powerless People in the Art World.
Agave Magazine contributor and 2008 Texas Poet Laureate Larry D. Thomas released a new e-chapbook, Plácido, featuring original artwork by Steven Schroeder.
By Deb A.
All of us at Agave Magazine wish you happy, peaceful holidays. See you next year!
Photo by Allison Richards
By Deb A.
Danielle Gillespie wrote her first story in kindergarten and believes that it may have involved a party with a polar bear and an octopus. Now studying creative writing and literature at the University of Evanville, she's added short stories such as "What's Measured in Miles and Meters", which appears in the most recent issue of Agave Magazine, to her portfolio of novels, poetry, and a few non-fiction pieces. This week we talk to Danielle about discovering the unfamiliar, getting language right, and what comes next.
AGAVE MAGAZINE: Why did you start writing?
DANIELLE GILLESPIE: My parents read to me and my sister when we were children. I became an avid reader (as did my sister) and writing seemed like a natural progression. As silly as it sounds, I started simply because it seemed fun.
In "What's Measured in Miles and Meters" you bring the reader onto the sprinting track, where you spent six years of your own life. How much of your personal experience finds its way into your writing?
I think a good deal of my life finds expression in my writing—though it tends to be less obvious than in “What’s Measured in Miles and Meters”: aspects of a family member’s personality, a place I’ve visited, a feeling I’ve had. I like to use what’s familiar to me to explore what’s unfamiliar. For “What’s Measured in Miles and Meters” I took the experience of running track and dropped it into a family dynamic that was very different than anything I had ever experienced.
What do you think is important for putting a reader, even for a brief moment, into a character's experience?
For me, it’s language. The right words used in the right combination can be so evocative. When I’m editing my own work, I spend hours cutting lines and rearranging sentences and replacing words in the hope that the finished product will allow the emotionality of the moment to come through effectively.
What would you like to write next?
I think I'd like to try tackling something a little bit larger in scope than the short stories I have been writing. A couple of years ago I wrote a short story that I realized was actually the beginning of a novel after I had completed it. I've been really wanting to tackle it, and I think that's my next move.
What are you currently reading?
I am currently reading A Game of Thrones [George R.R. Martin] for my Tolkien class and A Vindication of the Rights of Woman [Mary Wollstonecraft]. A bizarre combination, but enjoyable nonetheless.
By Deb A.
"I stick stuff to other stuff and kid myself about the rest," claims collage artist Cory Peeke. But as his work, including A Higher Education: Suits in the latest issue of Agave Magazine shows, there's a lot more to it than that. Cory's wit and insight are readily recognisable in every piece, whether it's examining masculinity, sexuality or education. And for all those who are tempted to take a pair of scissors to their copy of Agave and do their own recontextualisation, you have Cory's blessing to "make it yours."
AGAVE MAGAZINE: What got you started in collage?
CORY PEEKE: I have been doing collage seriously since I lived in San Francisco in the early '90s. I was a painter, though a very mixed-media oriented one, when I was in undergraduate school in Michigan. However, when I moved to San Francisco it was so expensive just to live that art supplies like oil paint became an unaffordable luxury. I still had the need to be a maker so I began collecting ephemera, stuff I’d find on the street or for cheap in junk shops.
The experience was very freeing. I didn’t have any preconceived notions or expectations for the work so it was a way to experiment and learn a way of working without the constraints of history and material limitations I felt as a painter.
Where do you find the material you use in your collages, and what draws you to the bits and pieces you collect?
I find most of my materials in junk shops or antique stores, but I’m not above scavenging stuff off the street. I also dig office supplies so office supply stores are fun to shop. The white spots in many of my pieces are created using correction fluid.
I hoard materials. I collect things wherever I find them. I have drawers, boxes, flat files and tables piled high with old photographs, scraps of paper, transparencies, etc. Part of the fun of collage is digging through the hoard to find just the right item for the piece I’m working on. Collage is like putting together a puzzle without knowing what the final image is supposed to look like. Searching out the correct pieces for that puzzle is a fun little treasure hunt.
I’m not sure I can exactly pinpoint what exactly draws me to a particular bit of ephemera. I will say though that I’m often attracted to vintage images and papers, something that seems to have an age to it. They’re remnants of another time that I hope to reinvigorate and get people to notice and value again.
Do you first have an idea and then look for pieces to use, or does the material you come across inspire a particular idea for a collage or series?
I used to work with an idea and then search for the material I needed. I don’t think I hold to a strict conceptual agenda anymore, the work is more organic in its creation. There are certainly particular types of imagery and themes of sexuality, masculinity and education that I’m drawn to so they reappear again and again in my work.
I tend to make the work and then go back and look for the common thread/ideas that holds them together as a series.
Your most recent series "explores the duality that is the transient, disposable nature of our culture through the lens of the book and the status of higher education." How did your position as Professor of Art at Eastern Oregon University inform your work?
I’m sure it is no secret that higher education has gone through some big changes and tough times the last several years. I have very different students today than I did just a decade ago.
One of the things that I’ve noticed is a growing reluctance on the part of students to read. They seem to have an aversion to the printed page or at the very least seem to lack any meaningful appreciation for the written word. Libraries are places they only reluctantly go, they hope to find everything on line and in quick easily digested snippets.
These observations have led directly to my reconsideration of the importance of the book and printed matter. I wouldn’t say my work exactly explores these ideas but the observations and the turmoil of higher education have influenced the making of my most recent bodies of work.
You write for Kolaj, a magazine on contemporary collage, and curate as well--what is the power of collage as an art form, and what artists do you think are particularly adept at wielding that power?
I believe people respond to collage differently than they do other mediums. The materials are drawn directly from the world around us which I feel makes them more approachable, perhaps even democratic. One the one hand I think it can be a negative in that collage is often not taken as seriously as other mediums, but on the other hand I think helps make collage less class-oriented and easier for people from all strata to relate.
Writing for Kolaj and being addicted to social media such as Instagram and Tumblr have introduced me to scores of new (to me anyway) collage artists. A list of folks out there right now working that I admire would include Evan Clayton Horback, Anthony Zinonos, Hollie Chastain, Katrien De Blauwer, Flore Kunst, Ross Carron, Eli Craven and John Hundt to name just a few. I could go on and on. This is a great time for collage, lots of good work is being made right now all around the world.
By Deb A.
Yanuary Navarro appreciates the unique allure of gouache and watercolours, noting that "they don't require much more than a cup of water and a brush. The older I get the more I appreciate simplicity." Yet her beautifully vibrant illustrations are part of a fantastical world where fairy tales, science fiction, and a childhood growing up in the Honduras collide--anything but simple. Agave Magazine is proud to feature Yanuary's A Coyote's Dream in our most recent issue, and to speak to her about being an artist, the power of ideas, and her series of invented short stories, 'The World of Wolli'.
What is 'The World of Wolli', and how did it come into being?
The 'World of Wolli' is the title of a series of visual short stories depicted in no chronological order. I have been building the story one painting at a time over the years. The concept began during my last year in college where I had an independent study class where I had the safe space to explore any subject. The narratives that began to naturally demand a voice were autobiographical, illustrating how my family and I immigrated and endured a dangerous journey through Central America. This is something I never really felt comfortable talking to people about and made me feel ashamed.
Over the years the narratives have expanded to include a network of people around me and their life stories and how they inspire me. I exaggerate people into characters and their details because storytelling is more interesting to me when truths are costumed in metaphors and when people are entertained they pay more attention to what is being said.
Where else do you find inspiration?
I find inspiration in other forms of art such as film, literature, music etc. and seeing other artists move forward with their ideas despite social disadvantages and failures. Their courage to share their human experience creatively motivates me to not be so afraid of doing the same.
Your work is influenced by fairy tales and science fiction. What are your favourite stories?
My favorite stories list is always changing and growing. Currently, One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez and Star Wars by George Lucas are some of my favorite fiction stories because they depict relatable human struggles within a fantastical setting that asks the human mind to leave logic and exercise the abstract concept of imagination. I believe that practising this helps us to become more skilled at empathizing with other people in real life and imagining what joys and sorrows they may be experiencing and therefore have a more appropriate response.
When did you realise you wanted to be an artist?
During high school I began to seriously practice my painting. I did not have hopes of becoming an artist or even make a living from it. I did it because being in the flow made the world make sense and brought a sense of inner peace that I could not get anywhere else. I think that the arts have shaped me from a frustrated teen into a peaceful and confident adult.
If you couldn't be an artist, what would you be?
I think I would enjoy being a scientist building machines and gadgets out of my Science Fiction dreams.
To be honest I feel that one cannot just be an artist hiding away from the world in a studio and perhaps that is not the worst fact in the world. Art is the voice of the people, it comes from a place of struggle seeking to be heard and the only way to hear what people's concerns are is to go outside and live life.
By Deb A.
This week has been full of tantalizing tidbits:
Pearls have been clutched: the Museum of Modern Art in New York has acquired the original 176 emojis. (Medium)
The Smithsonian's Sackler Gallery in Washington, D.C. has opened America's first major exhibit on the Qur'an. (The Smithsonian)
Claiming the news left him "speechless," Bob Dylan has finally accepted his Nobel Prize for Literature. (The Telegraph)
Speaking of prizes: Paul Beatty, the first American to win the Man Booker Prize, talks with The Guardian's Charlotte Higgins about The Sellout and his take on cultural appropriation. (The Guardian)
The Venn diagram of The Simpsons fans and Yoko Ono fans intersects in Iceland--specifically, with Ragnar Kjartansson's A Single Plum, Floating in Perfume, Served in a Man's Hat. (artnet)
Congratulations to Agave Magazine contributor Anne Whitehouse, whose Meteor Shower is now available from Dos Madres Press.
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