Category Archives: New Orleans

In the Garden Writers’ Workshop

Join us for our second workshop of the 2017-2018 season. We will meet on the second Saturday of the month, every month from September through May. Writers of all levels are welcome. We will alternate between poetry and prose. Various local authors will stop by to read their work and share writing tips. In May, our participants will do a reading.

Where? Alvar Library, 913 Alvar Street,  the Bywater, New Orleans, LA 70117 

504-596-2667

When? Saturday, October 14th, 2:00-3:45 pm. (We wull take a ten or fifteen minute break in the middle of the session.  Light refreshments will be served).

This session we will focus on writing poetry. Bring in the first and last line of a poem you are working on, or would like to write, or just bring your ideas. Bring your notebook and pen and join us! All workshops are free and open to the public.

Workshops are taught by Sara Jacobelli, Henri Fourroux, and various local authors.

 

 

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Letters Read: Regrets at Antenna Gallery

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Letters Read: Regrets will explore the written form of human rejection through the personal correspondence of:

Bob Snead
Bart Everson
Rosalie Smith
Christopher Louis Romaguera
Kate Mason
Asiyah DeGruy
Adrienne Breaux
Nancy Sharon Collins
DJ Boyd
Julia Evans
Sara Jacobelli
Barbara Hammond (read by Ryn Wilson)
Rob Hudak

Regrets will be hosted by Chris Kaminstein, co-Artistic Director of Goat in the Road Productions, accompanied by Rob Hudak and his 1940s Gibson acoustic guitar.

During the evening we will also celebrate the release of the new book by Antenna’s Press Street Press, entitled Letters featuring the personal correspondence of Barbara Hammond to her niece, New Orleans based photographer Ryn Wilson. The book pairs the letters with Wilson’s photos of the era.

6:30pm Wednesday, September 13, 2017 @ Antenna, 3718 Saint Claude Ave
Admission is free and open to the public.

LETTERS READ is the ongoing series of live events presented by Nancy Sharon Collins in collaboration with Antenna, in which local performing artists, or individuals like you, interpret current and historically interesting letters written by culturally vital individuals from various times and New Orleans communities. For more info:

https://lettersread.wordpress.com

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Literature, New Orleans

In the Garden Writers’ Workshop

Join us for our first workshop of the 2017-2018 season. We will meet on the second Saturday of the month, every month from September through May. Writers of all levels are welcome. We will alternate between poetry and prose. Various local authors will stop by to read their work and share writing tips. In May, our participants will do a reading.

Where? Alvar Library, 913 Alvar Street,  the Bywater, New Orleans, LA 70117 

504-596-2667

When? Saturday, September 9th, 2:00-3:45 pm. (We take a ten or fifteen minute break in the middle.  Light refreshments will be served).

This session we will focus on prose writing, especially dialogue. Bring your notebook and pen and join us! All workshops are free and open to the public.

Workshops are taught by Sara Jacobelli, Henri Fourroux, and various local authors.

 

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Filed under Literature, New Orleans, short stories, Uncategorized

Reading and Book Signing at Treo on Tulane Avenue!

Our group from the Thursday night Fiction Writing Class, taught by Stephen Rea, will be hosting a Reading and Book Signing of our book: well, really two books in one: Bai Polar and The Fallen Man.

Where? Treo, 3835 Tulane Avenue, pub and restaurant

When? Friday, July 14th, 2017: 7-8:30 pm

Even if you don’t buy a book: stop by and have a drink and a bite to eat and visit with our class. Stephen Rea is an excellent teacher and the author of “Finn McCool’s Football Club: The Birth, Death, and Resurrection of a Pub Soccer Team in the City of the Dead.”

The authors of Bai Polar: Tom Warin, Matthew Haines, Rachel Henderson, Ashley Rouen, Daniel Zimmerman, Anne Reed.

The authors of The Fallen Man: Elicia Ford, Bill Tice, Samantha Frost, Sara Jacobelli, Debbie Pesses, Laura Michaud.

Interested in taking one of Stephen Rea’s writing classes? The introductory class is held on Tuesday nights, the more advanced class is held on Thursday nights. Both classes are taught upstairs from Treo pub in the art gallery. Just ask Stephen for more information when you come to our reading/book signing.

You can also buy a copy from me for $10. Just email:

sarajacobelli at hotmail dot com

Picture Credit: Graphics by Tom Warin

 

 

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Barcation! at BJ’s in the Bywater!

What is Barcation? A Story Time for Adults. Join local writers who will read a story or a poem, or just tell a story. The topic is open: You can tell a story about a bar, a vacation, a vacation in a bar, or whatever you come up with. Or you can share the written work of a favorite author. Participants can sign up for five minutes. Or you can just listen. Light refreshments will be served.

Where: BJ’s in the Bywater, 4301 Burgundy Street, New Orleans

When: Thursday, June 8th, 7-9 pm.

See you there!

Sara Jacobelli

 

**********************

Photo Credit: “Chilled Martini Glass.” Pixabay Free Images: 1660179.

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Little Silver Jukeboxes

silver-jukebox

    Fiction    Copyright © 2016  by Sara Jacobelli  

  

“Seems to me that a man, don’t know how to treat a woman, he deserves to lose that woman. Seems to me that a woman, being treated shitty by a man, she should leave that man.” Hanover tapped his spoon against the side of his coffee cup.

“Will you stop that tapping?” Casey drank her orange juice and flipped through the paper. “Lookit the prices of these rents? A thousand a month? Who could pay that?”

“Seems to me that, a woman, if her man’s beating on her, she should leave. You know. Even if it means living in her car. Or the library. Lotsa homeless folks live at the public library. Seems to me it’s better to be homeless than dead. Just saying.”

“Seems to me some people talk too fucking much.”

The waitress held her coffee pot in mid-air above their cups. “Refills?”

“Yeah. Sure. Lemme see the sports section.” Hanover grabbed the paper. “Saints are bums again.”

“No more coffee for me.” Casey stood up. “My car broke down, can’t even make it out of the driveway. And if you think I’m sleeping under the overpass and taking a bath at the library, you really are senile. Like your wife says.”

“You don’t know my wife. My wife.”

Casey went outside to smoke a cigarette. The waitress leaned over the counter. “That one don’t know Gwen died?”

“She never knew Gwen. Just heard me chat about her right here, sitting at the counter. Every Sunday.”

“Thought you two was good friends.” Marie stacked plates and wiped down the counter.

“Nah, never seen her outside the diner. We just talk, joke around. I always tease her, tell her her old man don’t know how lucky he is. Hate to see a pretty girl cover up black eyes and bruises with make-up and sunglasses. Hate to see it.”

“Hanover, you’re a pretty observant fellow.”

“When I was a kid, my mama useta get beat like that. She took us all down to the Greyhound station in the middle of the night. Would you believe? Would you believe he marched right down and dragged us all home? He beat her so bad, she never tried to leave again. Never. And it was my fault. I told her we should leave. Take the bus to Disneyland, that was my Big Idea.” Hanover tapped his spoon against his coffee cop in a steady beat. “You know, Marie?”

“Hmmm. Yeah, Hanover.” Marie pulled out a small mirror from her apron pocket and attempted to tweeze a wayward eyebrow.

“I always said, I always said, ‘Life woulda been different.'”

“What?”

“If mama and us kids left him, life. My whole life, woulda been different.”

“Well, you turned out alright. You met Gwen, got married. You know. What more do ya want, Hanover?”

Casey came back in and sat at the counter. “Those little silver jukeboxes? What happened to them?”

“Oh honey,” Marie said. “Nobody played em no more so Moe took em out.”

“Oh. I played em. Used to play all kinds a songs. Willie Nelson. I love his songs.”

“Yeah. Sure. You played love songs for me.” Hanover pulled a twenty out of his wallet to pay the bill.

“You wish, old timer.”

“Seems to me, that a man who don’t treat his woman right, seems to me he don’t got no complaints if she walks right out that door.”

“Moe hiring here, Marie? I could wait tables. Never done it, but I could learn. Only had two jobs in my whole life. Worked at McDonald’s in high school, and I did telemarketing for a while after I got married. One a them places they call boiler rooms.” Casey made a face. “He made me quit. Said my boss was hitting on me.”

“Moe don’t need no waitresses, but he could use a dishwasher. Jesse quit just yesterday.”

“I washed plenty dishes in my time.” Casey grabbed a napkin. “Hanover, you gotta pen?”

“You gonna wash dishes? Now, that’s a good start. I washed dishes when I got outta the army. Sure did. Now it seems to me, if a young lady can’t afford an apartment, she could rent a room somewheres. Miss Betsy down the road rents rooms. Rents rooms to single ladies, she does.”

Casey wrote her name and number on the napkin and gave it to Marie. “Maybe you could put a word in for me with Moe.”

“Sure honey. I can do that.” She went to wait on a family of redheads who sat at the corner table by the window.

“My wife Gwen, she always gave good advice. One time she told me, she said, ‘Hanover, you sleep too much. Don’t just sleep in on your day off, get up and accomplish something.’ So I did. I built me a garden shed, a garage, all kinds a things. Built a canoe for the kids and they bout wore it out. Built em with my own bare hands, I did. Built something every weekend, til the damn heart attack slowed me down.”

“Your wife calls you Hanover? Don’t you even have a first name?”

“First name’s Dick. She hated that. Said she wasn’t gonna stand at the back door and yell, ‘Dick! Dick! Time for dinner, Dick!’ So it’s always been Hanover.”

“You should have me over to meet her sometime. Play some cards, order a pizza.”

“Yeah. Sure. Seems to me, seems to me you gonna be mighty busy, with this here new life you’re planning.”

“See ya later alligator.” Casey touched Hanover on the arm.

“In a while, crocodile.” Hanover watched her walk out the door and cross the street to the bus stop.

Marie rang up Hanover’s bill and brought him his change. “So, whatcha got planned for the rest of the day?”

“I don’t know. Funny, isn’t it Marie? Life coulda been different.”

“You gotta be careful you don’t spend too much time alone, thinking about stuff like that. Ain’t healthy. Sitting there in that house with nothing but Judge Judy on the TV for company. Go join a bowling team, go over by St. Cecilia’s and play Bingo, why dontcha?” Marie pulled out a file and began filing her nails. “Go date one of them old ladies at church.”

Hanover stood up. “Just saying, life woulda been different. If she coulda left him.”

“Yeah. Well. And I coulda been a beauty queen, honey. And I’m slinging eggs and grits at Moe’s.”

************

Photo Credit: “Jukebox.” Pixabay Copyright-free images.

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