New NOÖ Weekly Guest Edited by Jordan Stempleman COMING SOON!
Remember the last NOÖ Weekly guest edited by Mel Bosworth? Remember how much you loved it? Starting to wonder when the next NOÖ Weekly is due to arrive? Starting to wonder when I’m going to stop asking questions?
Wonder no more, because the next NOÖ Weekly is COMING SOON! The upcoming Weekly is guest edited by JORDAN STEMPLEMAN, author of No, Not Today (Magic Helicopter Press, 2012) and editor of The Continental Review.
(AND I’m done asking questions!)
The issue will feature writers living in or connected to Kansas City (quick, guess which state Kansas City is in) including:
and James Tate
Psyched? I bet you are. Want it right now? Sorry, I said COMING SOON, not COMING RIGHT NOW. Get it together…
Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give you a sneak peek BUT THAT’S ALL YOU GET (for now).
"MANUAL FOR SELF-IMPROVEMENT"
It was the first day of my life. That’s what I told my-
self. I walked over the bridge of contentment and followed
the path of self-possession. The first man I met punched me
in the mouth and I saw stars, and the blood running down my
throat. I said, “Did I say something to offend you?” He said,
“You’re full of shit, that’s all.” “Excuse me, I have no memory
of our having met before,” I said. “We haven’t. I just wanted us
to get off to a good start. I know your type and I can’t stand
them,” he said. “And what type is that?” I said. “You think
you’re better than everybody else. You’re smug, that’s what
you are,” he said. “You’re wrong about that. I’m very humble,”
I said. He spit on me, then walked away into the trees. I sat
there twiddling my thumbs until a large hawk flew over. I
could see that it held a mouse in its talons. “Goodbye, little
mouse,” I said. “I’m just going for a little ride. I’ll be
back, trust me,” it said. I waved to him and he was gone. I
stood up and walked for a while. I came to a lake, which was
just a glass of water on an abandoned beach. I dove in anyway
and swam around for some minutes until I banged my head on the
side of the glass. I climbed out and shook my head. A bee
buzzed my nose. “Why are you doing that?” I said. “Oh, excuse
me, I thought you were a tulip,” it said, then flew off. I didn’t
know I looked like a tulip. Well, maybe when wet. I walked a
little further. Nothing looked familiar. I was in a strange
land. There was a bamboo curtain behind which sat a little
mouse. “Hello, friend,” he said. I looked again. He wasn’t
there. And, then, neither was I.