Month: March 2016

Call for Submissions in Film Reviews

  Litbreak Magazine is expanding its coverage of all forms of art and entertainment. We are especially looking for serious film reviews. Please read our policy before submitting your work. No submission fees or deadlines. We pay all contributors.       Submissions are open for our December launch. Please visit our submissions page for guidelines. Submit your work [mailchimp-form title=”” success_text=”Thank you, your email has been added to the list.” button_text=”Subscribe!” firstname=”0″ lastname=”0″]Get the Litbreak Newsletter! We’ll send you the latest posts and news about giveaways and books we...

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The Hammock Half

  The difference between my life in Tennessee and my life in the big city amounted to hammocks. I said this slowly because he looked drunk— likely dim prior to drunk— nonetheless a certain shade of peculiar which seemed attractive. From a distance at first, and now, up close. He drove ambulances and his name was Thomas but everybody called him James. Just cause. I looked at him as if that was impossible. He looked at me as if struck by tedium. I looked serious. He looked sodden. He smiled but it was wet. I smiled but it was...

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Shylock is My Name by Howard Jacobson

Why would anyone living today want to read Shakespeare? Thanks to Hogarth Press and their Shakespeare Project, I am finding out. I am only two books in, but reading the retellings after reading the plays is becoming an eye-opener for me. I have been told he is revered and still famous because he captured the timeless conundrums of human existence. I have come to find out that is true. I realize that sounds lofty but seriously, The Gap of Time based on The Winter’s Tale covered the pitfalls of jealousy. Shylock Is My Name, a retelling of The Merchant...

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Three Poems by Mary Lou Maloney

  Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec Poses His Mother for a Portrait   Let the tea cup hold your attention. Do not dare to raise your chin. I will make you ugly if you speak. I will paint an eagle on your head and he will flap wings on your ears. I could paint the lids off your eyes, and make your nose fuller than August with just a few strokes. Your lips could fade as purple as your tongue. Your hair tucked into an inelegant knot, My knife scrapes your ear. Do not think I paint the collar on your...

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Girl with Ice Cream

It had been a rough summer; they had tried to sell the house, beginning in the spring, but had failed. Priscilla wanted to lower the price and move on, he would have just as soon stayed if no one met the price they’d agreed on, and so they sank into a state of silent hostility. If she brought it up he’d remind her that they had a deal; he didn’t want to talk about it, which she took correctly to mean he didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to do the thing that would make her happy. With so...

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