I’ve now been published throughout 60 periodicals in 11 countries and five continents. It’s a good feeling. 🙂
[Update — I edited the headline to correctly read “passed a couple of nice milestones” instead of “hitting” them. Because that’s an entirely different metaphor.]
I am thrilled tonight to see The Creativity Webzine in Germany publish my poem “Roanoke Summer Midnight.”
The theme of the May issue is “History,” and my poem is meant as an homage to the spiritual, natural and architectural history of my adopted home, rural Southwest Virginia. You can find it at the link below:
The Arts Section of The Creativity Webzine
Thanks to Editor-in-Chief Charles E. J. Moulton for allowing me to see my work showcased within this wonderful creative community.
This is probably the most visually interesting building I’ve found here in Roanoke, Virginia — the Roanoke Typewriter Sales Company on Campbell Avenue. It’s just past the east edge of downtown, on the other side of the tracks, in the shadow of the overpass. It has a quasi-wedge shape that’s hemmed in closely at the rear by adjacent train tracks, and at its top is a billboard like a great, garish tiara.
If this isn’t the setting for a short story, I don’t know what is.
(May 2025.)
People are funny. This is admittedly a terrible picture, but what you see is a nocturnal lone trombone player tonight in the parking level of Virginia Tech School of Medicine building (by Carilion Roanoke Memorial Hospital).
Hey, man — more power to you. Practice your art wherever you can.
Roanoke, Virginia, April 2025. Pictured is the First Evangelical Presbyterian Church.
No, I can not hold a phone or camera steady. It will never happen.
The heavily accented guy at the bodega cheerfully informs me that “NEW CEREAL SHIPMENT COMES *TOMORROW,* SIR!”
So evidently they know me as “that cereal guy.” Not sure how I feel about that.
[Update — now all my Facebook friends are cracking the various requisite “serial” jokes. I should have seen that coming.]
I immensely enjoyed today’s matinee performance of Closing Arguments at The Bear Theater at 302 Campbell Avenue in Roanoke. (A caveat — I cannot offer an unbiased review here, because a great old college friend, Russell Morgan, is one of the cast.)
But suffice to say I had a blast. Closing Arguments is an engaging, thoughtful, and genuinely funny comedy delivered by a talented, energetic cast. It portrays a dysfunctional family reuniting in a small town for a funeral for one of their own, where their latent animosities and neuroses boil over.
Writer and director David Walton was on hand to introduce the performance. (And it occurs to me as a theater neophyte that there must be a benefit to playwrights directing their own plays — who better to guide actors performances toward matching the intent of the text?)
Anyway, I cheerfully recommend this. Closing Arguments’ next weekend is its last; if you are interested, you can buy tickets here.
Wonderful news! Poetry Hall translated selections of my work into Chinese for a third time. The quarterly bilingual journal printed my poems “Feast,” “Bumblebee,” and “she” in Issue 27, which you can order right here at Amazon. The publication has a truly interesting format in that it features poems in both languages, side by side.
Poetry Hall is a not-for-profit journal that is published by the Chinese Poetry Association. Its mission is to “introduce well-written Chinese and English poetry to the world in both its original language and translation forms. ” It showcases work from contributors worldwide, and also has a global readership.
That was an April Fool’s joke.
I’ve gotta hand it to you people — you’re sharp. There were verrrry few people who fell for my ruse this year. (You distinguished believers know who you are.)
Maybe I went too far in naming the fictional “Jowicker” zoological agency. Or maybe my citing of witness “April Flanagan” was a little too on the nose.
Oh, well. I can still reminisce with pride about last year’s gem of a hoax. That one actually worked a little too well — I spent days afterward clarifying for people that I had not joined a traveling dance company for middle-aged performers.
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 