CCLaP Weekender, October 30th 2015

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CCLaP Weekender

From the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography

October 30, 2015

New Fiction by C.J. Arellano Photography by Michelle Siu Chicago Literary Events Calendar October 30, 2015 | 1


THIS WEEK’S CHICAG

For all events, visit [cclapce

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 31

3pm Paper Machete The Green Mill / 4802 N. Broadway / Free, 21+ thepapermacheteshow.com

A “live magazine” covering pop culture, current events, and American manners—part spoken-word show, part vaudeville review—featuring comedians, journalists, storytellers, and musical guests. Hosted by Christopher Piatt. 8pm Blackout Diaries High Hat Club / 1920 East Irving Park / $10, 21+ blackoutdiaries.info

A comedy show about drinking stories, a “critic’s pick” at Red Eye, MetroMix, and Time Out Chicago. Comedians share the mic with “regular” people, such as cops, firefighters, and teachers, all recounting real-life tales about getting wasted. Hosted by Sean Flannery.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 1 10am

Sunday Morning Stories Donny's Skybox Studio Theatre / 1608 North Wells / Free

We performers are pre-booked. We feature novice as well as seasoned storytellers. On or off paper. 7pm Uptown Poetry Slam The Green Mill / 4802 N. Broadway / $6, 21+ greenmilljazz.com

Featuring open mike, special guests, and end-of-the-night competition.

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GO LITERARY EVENTS

enter.com/chicagocalendar] 7pm Asylum Le Fleur de Lis / 301 E. 43rd / $10 lefleurdelischicago.com

A weekly poetry showcase with live accompaniment by the band Verzatile. 7:30pm Truth or Lie Firecat Projects / 2124 N Damen / Free

Five to six storytellers spinning true or fictive tales and leaving the audience to wonder, truth or lie? Hosted by Sarah Terez Rosenblum. 7:30pm Here, Chicago Stage 773 / 1225 W Belmont / $8 or dish to share, 13+ herechicago.org

The potluck reading series. Formerly Here’s the Story, each installment starts with dinner at 7:30pm, then continues with readings at 8pm—five featured storytellers and five sign-up storytellers. No pages, no stage, just “the kind of old-timey storytelling that is practiced under porch-lights and on street corners by people who have a truth to tell, whether through fact or fiction.” Everyone is encouraged, but not required, to bring a dish for the potluck. Hosted by Janna Sobel.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 2 7:30pm Litmash Haymarket Pub & Brewery / 737 West Randolph / $8, 21+ chicagoslamworks.com/litmash

Combining poetry slam, story slam, and live lit, Chicago Slam Works brings together the city’s “literary elite” for a battle unlike any other.

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8:30pm Kafein Espresso Bar Kafein Espresso Bar / 1621 Chicago Ave., Evanston kafeincoffee.com

Open mic with hosts Chris and Kirill.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 3 7pm Wit Rabbit Reads Quenchers Saloon / 2401 North Western / Free, 21+ witrabbitreads.com

An inter-genre reading series showcasing poetry, prose (narrative or otherwise), drama, and other “text-creations,” particularly the earnest kind. 7pm Write Now Cafe Lutz / 2458 W Montrose / FREE chicago-bakery.com

An open mic for comedians and live lit storytellers. Hosted by Danny Black and Anne Victoria LaMonte. 7:30pm Homolatte Tweet Let's Eat / 5020 N. Sheridan tweet.biz

With Scott Free, featuring gay and lesbian spoken-word artists. 7:30pm Tuesday Funk Hopleaf / 5148 N. Clark / Free, 21+ tuesdayfunk.org

Chicago’s eclectic monthly reading series, presented by the Gothic Funk Nation, and featuring a variety of fiction, poetry, essays, and other works in all genres. Hosted by Andrew Huff and Eden Robins. 9pm Two Cookie Minimum Hungry Brain / 2319 West Belmont / Free, 21+ twocookieminimum.blogspot.com

Stories and cookies. Both are free, the latter vegan, too. The goal is to highlight new writers and the Chicago zine community. Hosted by John Wawrzaszek, A.K.A. Johnny Misfit.

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WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 4 6pm Lyricist Loft Harold Washington Library / 400 South State / Free youmediachicago.org

“Open mic for open minds,” presented by Remix Spoken Word. Hosted by Dimi D, Mr. Diversity, and Fatimah. 7pm

Reading Under the Influence Sheffield's / 3258 North Sheffield / $3, 21+ readingundertheinfluence.com

“Because everyone needs a literary hangover.” Original short stories plus short-short excerpts of published work related to the theme of the month, such as “Well Done,” with trivia contests that award books and other prizes. Rotating hosts. 9pm

In One Ear Heartland Cafe / 7000 N Glenwood https://www.facebook.com/pages/In-One-Ear/210844945622380

Chicago's 3rd longest-running open-mic show, hosted by Pete Wolf and Billy Tuggle.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 5 7:30pm Northside Story Club Holiday Club / 4000 N Sheridan / $10, +21 storyclubchicago.com

A nonfiction storytelling show that aims to “mix the spontaneity of an open mic with the experience of live theater.” At every installment, featured readers and open mic performers are each given a microphone and eight minutes. Hosted by Dana Norris.

To submit your own literary event, or to correct the information on anything you see here, please drop us a line cclapcenter@gmail.com October 30, 2015 | 5


w The yap. The howl. That damn dog barking behind that door across the hall from Matthew’s. YAP YAP YAP! Matthew lay in bed. Bright phone screen: 2:40 AM. YAP YAP YAP! He could tell some things. Dog was likely tiny. Likely six months old or less. Likely crying for his mother—his real one, not his human one, who never seemed home.

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ORIGINAL FICTION

“Soppy Dog” by Jase Curtis [flickr.com/25722571@N08]. Used under the terms of her Creative Commons license.

g-Dozer

BY C.J. ARELLANO October 30, 2015 | 7


From the name on the mailbox next to his, Matthew knew the owner was a woman, Polish or of Polish descent. That was it. He knew more about her dog’s hopes and fears than he knew about hers. This dog only barked at night, from nine to five. The hours of a vampire. YAP YAP YAP! Two months of this now. Seemed longer. Seemed years. Mornings, previously serene. Now runny as the eggs in front of him. “You all right?” his boyfriend asked, lifting coffee to his lips. The mug didn’t have a handle. It had a built-in rubber sleeve, which made it cool to the touch. The two men had picked it out together, months ago. A housewarming gift of sorts. “Cool to the touch!” they read off the box in unison. Matthew and Scotty bursting into laughter, right there in Aisle 9. Simpler times. Matthew stared past Scotty’s face at the kitchen wall, canary yellow. Matthew’s lids drooped. He sharply inhaled, forcing a chord of wakefulness that would sustain and decay soon enough. Scotty sighed and put the mug down. “That dog is driving you nuts.” “And how does it not drive you nuts?” Matthew asked. “I could sleep through a tornado,” Scotty said. “Now, come on. We’re gonna march across the hall and talk to her.” Matthew shook his head. “It’d be no use. Dogs are dogs.” Scotty chuckled. “I’ve owned six dogs in my lifetime. None like hers.” “That’s just it,” Matthew said. “We don’t know what kind of person she is. What if she cries?” he implored. “What if she has a gun?” Scotty raised a brow. “Don’t you deal with unpleasant conversations every day?” Matthew’s business card read Termination Consultant. He fired people for other people. He visited offices he’d never seen before and would never see again. He started conversations with “Nice to meet you,” and ended them with “I’m sure you’ll land on your feet.” He did the dirty work of CEOs, managers, pizza parlor owners. And he consoled those he fired. He absorbed their horror. Their pain. “She doesn’t even have the guts to fire me herself?” they’d scream. “Tell it to me, not to her,” he’d say like a wise, calm yoga instructor. He loved his job. But this was different. The matter with the dog lady was different. “What’s so different?” Scotty asked. “Being a third party is miles away from first or second, and you know it,” Matthew said as he bowed his head and rubbed his temples in circles that went nowhere. 8 | CCLaP Weekender


“I don’t know. Look at it logically,” Scotty began, and Matthew tuned him out after that. Scotty and his logic. Scotty and his need to draft a forty-page battle plan when all Matthew needed was an ear. It was charming at first. “Hey, I’m Scotty. I’ll be your personal trainer.” Then it became tolerable. “Give me five more! JUST FIVE MORE!” Now, Matthew wasn’t sure what it was. “It makes sense,” Scotty concluded, “to just go over there and, you know, talk.” Matthew grumbled. He didn’t want to talk. He just wanted quiet. A week later, Matthew bought a Dog-Dozer. Bright phone screen: 11:42 PM. YAP YAP YAP! “What’s a Dog-Dozer?” Scotty asked, sitting on the couch with a book. He wore eyeglasses and boxers. From a desk drawer, Matthew removed the device. It fit in the palm of his hand, like a walkie-talkie. Like a detonator. It had a pull-out antenna and a spin dial that went to ten. It had a button on the side that read, “DOZE.” It gleamed in the lamplight. “Let’s take it for a spin,” Matthew said with a grin. He scampered to the front door. Scotty sipped chamomile. YAP YAP YAP! the dog went, now in a higher pitch, as if it knew a human had stepped closer. Matthew switched the device to ON. He pulled out the antenna. He spun the dial to four. No, five. He lifted the Dog-Dozer toward the door. He pressed and held the button marked “DOZE.” Matthew and Scotty heard a prolonged, tiny squeal emanate from the device, but only because they knew to listen for it. YAP YAP YAP! Keeping his finger on the “DOZE” button, Matthew spun the dial with his free thumb. To six. To seven. To eight. The squeal grew higher, pitchier. Scotty put his book down. “Is this safe?” he asked. “The website said ‘safe,’” Matthew said. YAP! YAP! YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP! Nine. Ten. He spun it to ten. The pitch disappeared into the highest realm of inaudibility. Yet Matthew and Scotty could feel the squeal in their skulls. Scotty said, “Don’t hurt the dog.” October 30, 2015 | 9


“I won’t hurt the dog.” “I like dogs.” “I know you like dogs,” Matthew said. He pushed the dial against ten. Ten. An ultrasonic TEN. YAP! YAP! YAP YAP YAP YAP! POP. Like a gunshot. THUD. Like a body. No more yaps. Matthew’s eyes went wide. He spun and looked at Scotty. His eyes were wide too. Matthew cleared his throat, shut the Dog-Dozer off, and placed it on an end table. With the calm of a president, he headed toward the bedroom, stepping over the cracked, rubber-sleeve mug on the floor. Chamomile everywhere. Scotty protested. “Do you think we should—?” “Nope.” “But what if you—?” “Good night!” Matthew shut the door, finding himself in a dark room, his heart speeding. He felt his way toward the bed. He crawled under the covers. He curled into a ball. He stayed awake. Minutes later, he felt Scotty’s cold arm slip around his torso. And the dog did not bark. For the first time in months, the dog did not bark. For the first time in months, Matthew was reunited with the unbroken sounds of nighttime. The wall clock ticking. The refrigerator humming. The streetlights buzzing. Scotty’s deep breathing. And no YAP. No YAP. No YAP no YAP no YAP. “Matthew,” Scotty said. “We need to talk.” Matthew’s eyes were as still as the oncoming night. “I know.” C.J. Arellano is a writer, director, and editor specializing in short form video, feature-length projects, and prose. His work has won the grand prize of the New York Screenplay Contest, Columbia College’s Written Image Contest, and the Chicago Filmmakers’ Citywide Film Showcase. Most recently, his writing and video work was featured at Chicago Sketchfest. Visit CJArellano.com to see more! Seriously, it’s a pretty great website designed by his super-cool boyfriend. 10 | CCLaP Weekender


Know thyself and nothing in excess. Just as the doomed sailors of Homer’s Odyssey fail to heed one or the other of these maxims, and end up getting turned to swine or lured to their peril by the singing sirens, so too do the doomed characters in Joseph G. Peterson’s new collection of stories fail idiotically in one way or another and end up, like those ancient sailors, facing the prospect of their own mortal twilight. Set mostly in Chicago and by turns gruesome, violent, comic, lurid and perverse, these stories are suffused with a metaphorical light that lends beauty and joy to the experience of reading them.

CCLaP Publishing

Download for free at cclapcenter.com/twilightidiots

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Michel

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lle Siu

PHOTOGRAPHY FEATURE October 30, 2015 | 13


Photo credit: Chris Katsarov

I am a Canadian freelance photojournalist and documentary photographer mostly in Toronto but often elsewhere. If I am not shooting for an editorial client or an international aid agency, I am working on a long-term photo story. I got my start by landing a few competitive photojournalism internship and it is this training outside of classroom walls that continues to shape who I am as a photographer and storyteller. As a daughter of Chinese immigrants to Canada I am interested in stories about home and identity. From documenting the long displacement of a Canadian First Nations reserve to photographing young children addicted to tobacco in Indonesia, I am drawn to human rights issues which affect vulnerable people and disenfranchised cultures.

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www.michellesiu.com instagram.com/michellewsiu

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CCLaP Publishing

Orest Godwin is ruining his long legacy three fingers of rye at a time. His lectures have become bizarre. He’s smoking indoors. And he’s begun to carry a knife. When Orest nearly burns down the campus destroying memoirs in his attic, the College has no choice but to dismiss him. After 50 years, a prestigious career is ended in a humiliating act of senility. Or so The Provost thinks. Orest decides he is no longer satisfied to be a known historian; he wants to be historic. So he cashes his pension, draws a new will, and vanishes. With the help of a failing Spanish student whom he has promised a fictional scholarship, he embarks on an adventure from northern California to the lawless badlands of Mexico to join a true rebellion. Armed with Wyatt Earp replica pistols and a case of rye, Orest and Augie trespass through a thousand miles of brothels, cantinas, jungles, diners, and motels, threatening those they meet along the way. If Orest can just elude the pimps he’s crossed, the ranchers he’s sworn vengeance upon, and kidnapping charges, he might just join his peasant uprising. At least while he can still remember where he is going. And if no one gives him a drop of mescal.

Download for free at cclapcenter.com/orestandaugust

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The CCLaP Weekender is published in electronic form only, every Friday for free download at the CCLaP website [cclapcenter.com]. Copyright 2015, Chicago Center for Literature and Photography. All rights revert back to artists upon publication. Editorin-chief: Jason Pettus. Story Editor: Behnam Riahi. Photo Editor: Jennifer Yu. Layout Editor: Wyatt Robinette. Calendar Editor: Taylor Carlile. To submit your work for possible feature, or to add a calendar item, contact us at cclapcenter@gmail.com.

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