In addition to providing a biography, our contributors answered the following;

1.     What literary character would you like to bring to life?
2.    Where would you haunt if you were a ghost?
3.    If you joined the circus, what would be your act?
4.    What animal other than sharks should have their own week?
5.    Eliminate one thing from your daily schedule without penalty or disap­probation. What would it be?
6.    If you had a warning label, what would be yours?
7.    You’re a new edition to a crayon box; what’s your color and crayon name?
8.    Best thing to buy for a dollar?

We hope that you enjoyed their answers as much as we did!

Dr. Jodi Adamson, when not reading, writing, sewing, designing costumes, playing with her puppy, and watching too much Forensics Files, is a retail phar­macist who dispenses happy pills and shoots customers with assorted vaccines.

  1. Eloise but only if we were twins and both living in the Plaza.
  2. Pet store-plenty of animals to play with for eternity.
  3. Fortune teller.
  4. Dolphins. Very interesting mammals.
  5. Easy. My day job.
  6. Proceed with caution—wandering mind!
  7. My color is the color of the ocean as the sun sparkles down on it, and my name would be sea dawn aquamarine.
  8. One time I bought a mini banana split. Delicious!

Bim Angst’s writing in multiple genres has been recognized with a number of awards, including a fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts. “Fever” is from a linked collection of stories set in the 20th Century’s immi­grant-populated mining communities of Pennsylvania’s anthracite coal regions. Angst lives in Saint Clair, PA.

  1. My guess is that a gigantic white whale cruises the deep somewhere, and I would love to see the great scarred beast.
  2. There are a few beautiful mountain streams in Pennsylvania I’d be content to hang around forever. Visit and we’ll talk.
  3. I’d be the lady with the voluminous skirts and scarlet lipstick who caresses and reads palms in a tent off the midway.
  4. Dogs. And hyenas, who aren’t dogs, but close enough.
  5. My good girl wants to answer, but my controlling crone does as she likes and doesn’t care what others think, unless she’s unkind.
  6. May bite like a spider. Or maybe, Will turn away if bored.
  7. I would love to be a grass green or deep turquoise but would probably be an azo orange named egg yolk.
  8. A two-pack of ballpoint pens. Pleasing, portable, practical: Fidget, doodle, chomp, draw, tap, write, scratch, point, probe . . .

Judith Arcana writes poems, stories, essays, and books, and she hosts a poetry show on KBOO in Oregon. Her newest book, from Flowstone Press, is An­nouncements from the Planetarium—poems examining memory, considering the nature of wisdom, and reflecting on the experience of aging into new conscious­ness. Visit

  1. Maude, from the novel & movie Harold and Maude by Colin Higgins.
  2. The graveyard where my mother and all of my grandparents are buried (hoping to meet their ghosts).
  1. Reading poems & stories to clowns who respond dramatically for the audience; I’d wear a gown of gold sequins & silver glitter.
  2. Bears.
  3. I would eliminate the evening backup (to an external drive) of all work done on the computer during the day.
  4. Unlikely to Seek Your Approval.
  5. The crayon, very dark blue, is called Deep Blue Sea.
  6. One frosting shot at Cupcake Jones in Portland, Oregon.

Bert Barry is the Program Director at Saint Louis University. He earned a B.A. degree in German and a M.A. degree in English from Washington Uni­versity. He also earned a Ph.D. in English from Saint Louis University. He is devoted to the lyric poem, in all its countless variations.

  1. No doubt about it, Gandalf the wizard.
  2. Pennsylvania Station in New York—I am a train lover.
  3. Anything but a trapeze artist.
  4. Gorillas—our closest relatives.
  5. Meetings!
  6. “Do not ask a question unless you want an answer.”
  7. Sea blue/Beryl.
  8. Hot tea—at least in a few places.

Robert Beveridge makes noise ( and writes poetry just outside Cleveland, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in The Literary YardBig Windows, and Locust, among others.

  1. The scientist who created the shapeshifting technology in Wendy Walker’s The Secret Service.
  2. Area 51. Mess with their heads a little.
  3. I’d be the IT guy. I’m always the IT guy. I can’t even be in the audience, much less in the ring.
  4. Capybaras.
  5. Shaving. Already hate it enough I only do it once a week or so.
  6. Warning: fatal if swallowed.
  7. Crayons have names now? The color would be a sort of mixture between red velvet and dark grey and would be called gingerleach.
  8. Depends on where you are in the universe. And what’s on the clearance rack.

Paula Brancato is a Sicilian-American writer, filmmaker and Harvard MBA, all of which contribute to her unique voice. Paula’s literary awards include the Booth Poetry Prize, Danahy Fiction Prize, and the Brushfire Poet and National Screenwriters awards. She currently lives in NY and teaches at USC and Stony Brook Southampton. She is a graduate of Hunter College and LA Film School.

  1. Heathcliff, of course!
  2. The cemetery in Lincoln in the Bardo—I would not be alone.
  3. The high wire.
  4. Doggies, silly. Of course, doggies!
  5. Work.
  6. Argue at your own risk.
  7. Blue star—kind of like sky with sparkles and crystals.
  8. A banana plus a tangerine.

Charlotte Covey is from St. Mary’s County, Maryland. Currently, she is an MFA candidate in poetry at the University of Missouri—St. Louis. She has poetry published or forthcoming in The Normal School, Salamander Review, and CALYX Journal, among others. In 2017, she was twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize.

  1. I would want to bring back Cedric Diggory because he deserves better.
  2. I would haunt all of my ex-boyfriends’ houses.
  3. Ringmaster.
  4. Bunnies!!!
  5. Going to work lol.
  6. “Handle with care.”
  7. It’s a dark blood red, and it’s called “Passion.”
  8. A Natty Daddy.

Holly Day teaches writing classes at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapo­lis, Minnesota. Her poetry has recently appeared in Big Muddy, The Cape Rock, New Ohio Review, and Gargoyle, and her published books include Walking Twin Cities, Music Theory for Dummies, Ugly Girl, and The Yellow Dot of a Daisy.

  1. Any one of the really flexible guys who posed for pictures in the Kama Sutra. I’m not particularly partial to any one specific model.
  2. Probably the White House—there are lots of other ghosts there, so I wouldn’t be lonely.
  3. Lion tamer.
  4. Octopi.
  5. Sleep. I could totally use that 8-9 hours for something much more productive.
  6. Very excitable.
  7. Cat butt (self-explanatory—it’s just cat-butt colored).
  8. Embroidery floss.

Diane DeCillis’s poetry collection, Strings Attached (Wayne State Univ. Press) was honored as a Michigan Notable Book for 2015, won the Next Generation Indie Book Award for poetry, and was a finalist for the Forward Indie Fab Book Award. Her poems have been nominated for three Pushcart Prizes, and Best American Poetry.

  1. Lear’s Cordelia. I identify with her.
  2. Right now, the oval office.
  3. The Amazing Zambora. Dressed as an ape, I’d rattle my cage, flinging the bars aside as I watch the audience scatter like a flock of starlings startled by gunshot. Either that, or the girl on the flying trapeze.
  4. The manatee. I remember watching one eat a head of romaine and how delicately it held the lettuce (pinky-finger-up style). It seemed to enjoy each small bite. I love a large, roly-poly mammal with good manners.
  5. Worrying about not having enough time to do all the things on my to-do list.
  6. Warning: Do not defend this administration to me, if we are to remain friends.
  7. My color would be a swirl of black and white and I’d call it Ambiguity.
  8. Day-old lemon curd cupcake from Plum Market.

Darren DeFrain is the author of the cult novel, The Salt Palace, and a collec­tion of stories, Inside & Out. He is at work completing an essay collection, A Moveable Barbecue, as well as a new novel. He directs the writing program at Wichita State University.

  1. Tristram Shandy.
  2. Austin, Texas drifting from concert to concert.
  3. The guy who gets mauled because he thought he could tame that big cat.
  4. Coral.
  5. Worrying.
  6. Gets older with age.
  7. Ulcerative red.
  8. A plastic poo emoji from a grocery store vending machine. Because some­one had to spend their day making plastic poo emojis.

Em DeMarco makes comics, takes photos at punk rock shows, and is currently learning how to tattoo. Her comics journalism and photographs can be viewed at

  1. Grandma in Roald Dahl’s George’s Marvelous Medicine. Grow down instead of up.
  2. The cactus room in Phipp’s Conservatory.
  3. I’d stitch the costumes, rather than be in the spotlight.
  4. Hm, so many choices! Maybe the rabbits whose eyes we burn for testing our perfumes. Or the sheep whose flesh we yank off while shearing wool. Or perhaps the cows that we chain down from birth before portioning them into meat.
  5. Coffee.
  6. Grumpy when hungry.
  7. A cheery green called “slime mold.”
  8. A blue Prismacolor col-erase pencil.

Carol Ellis was born in Detroit, Michigan and lives in Portland, Oregon. She’s been around the academic block with her Ph.D. in English from the University of Iowa. Her poems and essays are or will be published in antholo­gies and journals including ZYZZYVA, Comstock Review, The Cincinnati Review, Saranac Review, and Cider Press Review. She is author of I Want A Job (Finish­ing Line Press 2014). In 2015 she spent time in Cuba writing a book and giving readings.

  1. Ophelia in Hamlet by Shx.
  2. Venice.
  3. High wire.
  4. Dogs.
  5. Early morning weed.
  6. Hang to dry.
  7. Immigrant—as invisible as possible—no color.
  8. Gum.

Donna Emerson lives in Petaluma, California. Recently retired from teaching at Santa Rosa Jr. College, Donna’s award-winning publications include Denver Quarterly, CALYX Journal,, Paterson Literary Review. She has published four chapbooks and one full-length poetry collection. Her most recent awards are nominations for a Pushcart, Best of the Net, and two Allen Ginsberg (2015) awards.

  1. I would like to spend time with Mr. Darcy, in the form of Colin Firth. And he would be drawn to me.
  2. I would haunt African jungles where poachers hunt elephants and giraffe. Put spells on poachers so they can only save the wild animals.
  3. A trapeze artist, who never falls, is always caught by my strong partner.
  4. Elephant Week (there may be one): to save mothers and babies, where habitats are also preserved and human beings find a way to co-exist.
  5. Cut in half, the absorption of calories and fat that I eat, with no side effects. I adore dark chocolate.
  6. I would have a sign that said “Please kiss my hand, if you are so moved.”
  7. My crayon color would be light lemon, called curds & whey.
  8. I would like quarters to use in parking meters in San Francisco.

Mike Faran spent part of his early formative years growing up in England. It was then that he discovered his love for writing poetry. This talent was enhanced back at home as his education progressed in southern California. He completed two years at Pasadena City College before joining the Air Force for a four year enlistment. After that, with the aid of the G.I. Bill, he was able to complete a degree in English literature at California State University in Fullerton. Mike developed a condition that was diagnosed as Agoraphobia which caused him to live a reclusive lifestyle. Even though this lifestyle imposed certain social and economic restrictions it did allow him the freedom to pursue his writing. Mike’s poetry has been published many print and online publica­tions. He has also been twice nominated for the coveted Pushcart Prize. Mike’s poetry has touch the hearts and stimulated the minds of his readers, and his presence will be missed.

—Kindly written by Jerry Bjorklund

Karen Fayeth was born with the eye of a writer and the heart of a storyteller. Her work is colored by the Mexican, Native American, and western influences of her roots in rural New Mexico and complemented by an evolving urban aesthetic. Now living in the San Francisco Bay area, she can be found online at

  1. Charlie Asher from Christopher Moore’s A Dirty Job and Secondhand Souls. Probably a good idea to make friends with the physical manifestation of Death.
  2. Someplace that claims to be haunted but isn’t, like the Winchester Mys­tery House. I’d whisper “you’re awesome” in the ears of startled tourists.
  3. Ladies and Gentlemen! Gather ‘round and then quickly disperse to not see Introverted Girl.
  4. Fer-de-Lance. Fascinating, cranky, highly venomous, and a favorite prey of Jaguars. Holy moly.
  5. Does getting out of bed in the morning count?
  6. Machine runs on nachos and naps. Do not under any circumstance feed kale.
  7. A fabulous deep red with orange speckles called Sangria.
  8. A movie theater sized box of Junior Mints.

Susan Flynn has been published in Late Peaches: Poems by Sacramento Poets; No, Achilles, An Anthology of War Poetry; Tule Review; The Adirondack Review; Oberon Poetry Journal, Consumnes River Review; and Women Arts Quarterly. Her chapbook, Seeing Begins in the Dark, is being published by Etched Press of San Francisco in 2018. Susan lives in Sacramento and is a clinical psychologist in private practice and a university professor.

  1. Salander from Dragon Tattoo.
  2. The Sagrada Familia in Barcelona.
  3. In Cirque de Soleil a high wire dancer.
  4. Hummingbirds.
  5. Rushing to be on time.
  6. Sensitive to too much or too little.
  7. The black Madonna (blueblack color).
  8. Parking on the street in front of sunlight of the spirit or Zanzibar.

Judith Grissmer has been published in Sow’s Ear, The Alembic, Adanna, Bluestem, The Broken Plate, Clare, Midwest Quarterly, Streetlight Magazine, Schuylkill Valley Journal and in other literary magazines. She has upcoming work in Sanskrit and The Broken Plate. She is a retired marriage and family therapist living in Charlottesville, VA.

Mary Catherine Harper organizes the yearly SwampFire Retreat of artists and writers. See Recently her poetry has appeared in The Com­stock Review, Cold Mountain Review, Old Northwest Review, Pudding Magazine, SLAB (Issue 12), MidAmerica, Print-Oriented Bastards, Sheila-Na-Gig, and The Offbeat. Her poem “Muddy World” won the 2013 Gwendolyn Brooks Poetry Prize.

  1. Nanapush, the trickster from Louise Erdrich’s novels.
  2. The top of Grizzly Peak in the Colorado Rockies.
  3. High-wire act [I have a poem about this, actually].
  4. Bengal tigers.
  5. Putting on shoes.
  6. Warning: What you say is what I think you mean.
  7. Amaranth is both my name and color.
  8. French fries.

Mary Liza Hartong is a graduate student in creative writing at Dartmouth College. She originally hails from Tennessee, but now calls the Granite State home. When she’s not writing she performs with an improv comedy group, slowly completes puzzles, and bakes fabulously buttery desserts.

  1. Enzo, the dog from The Art of Racing in the Rain. He seems like a sweet­heart.
  2. I would haunt every person who doesn’t believe in ghosts and brags about his non believing as if it makes him smarter than the average joe. Those people need rattling.
  3. I would love to work with the dancing poodles. I’ve always been quite fond of poodles. They’re smart, they’re beautiful, and they know their way around a stage.
  4. Raccoons! What other creature has such pesky, humanlike hands, and such a penchant for mischief?
  5. If I never had to drive again I’d be perfectly happy.
  6. Warning: Get too close and I’m apt to adore you.
  7. I’m the rainbow crayon called “Judy Garland.”
  8. Whenever I go to the dollar tree I make sure to buy a box of Buncha Crunch candy. It’s delicious and they charge you four dollars for it at the movie theater.

Kristen Jackson lives in Denton, TX with her husband, son, and three cats and teaches writing courses at the University of North Texas.

  1. It would be Cathy Earnshaw (because she is badass).
  2. I would haunt Zeniba’s cottage at Swamp Bottom from Spirited Away.
  3. I would be a contortionist in a circus.
  4. I believe cats ought to have their own week (or month, or year).
  5. If I could eliminate one thing from my daily routine it would be brushing teeth (so tedious).
  6. My husband tells me if I came with a warning label it would read: very frustrating.
  7. I’d be pine tree green.
  8. An excellent spring roll.

Sharon Kennedy-Nolle is a graduate of Vassar College and holds an MFA and doctoral degree from the University of Iowa. In addition to attending the Sarah Lawrence Summer Writing Institute for several years, she was accepted to the Bread Loaf Conferences in both Middlebury and Sicily in 2016. This year marks the third that she has been honored to be a scholarship participant at the Frost Place Summer Writing Program. Her poetry has appeared or is up­coming in Chicago Quarterly Review, The Dickinson Review, Juked, Lindenwood Review, Menacing Hedge, OxMag, The Round, Storyscape, Streetlight Magazine, Talking River, Zoned, and Westchester Review, among others, while her disserta­tion was published as Writing Reconstruction: Race, Gender, and Citizenship in the Postwar South (University of North Carolina Press, 2015).

  1. Jay Gatsby.
  2. Abandoned hearts.
  3. Cannon fodder.
  4. Sloths.
  5. Hard to say b/c there’s really nothing I do that I don’t want to do.
  6. Caution: highly flammable.
  7. Basic black.
  8. Feeding a family in India.

Carolyn Kreiter-Foronda, Virginia Poet Laureate Emerita, has co-edited three anthologies and published seven poetry books, including The Embrace, winner of the Art in Literature: Mary Lynn Kotz Award. Her poems appear in numerous journals, including SLAB, Nimrod, Prairie Schooner, Poet Lore, World Poetry Yearbook, and Best of Literary Journals.

  1. Charles Dickens’ enigmatic Miss Havisham, a literary character in Great Expectations.
  2. I would haunt the White House just as Abraham Lincoln has done at questionable times in our country’s history.
  3. Lion tamer.
  4. As a statement against poaching and the sale of rhino horns, the rhinocer­os deserves its own week.
  5. I would avoid watching violent films and TV programs that do little more than have a detrimental effect on the emotional well-being of humankind.
  6. Warning label: Do not expose to unnecessary chatter.
  7. My color would be “midnight blue” and my crayon name—Bonamassa Blues Deluxe.
  8. A can of Fancy Feast for our stray cat, Amigo.

John P. Kristofco’s poetry and short stories have appeared in over

two-hundred publications, including: Folio, Rattle, Cimarron Review, Slant, and Stand. He has published four collections of poetry, the latest being The Timekeeper’s Garden ( He has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize five times.

Bleuzette La Feir was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico. She is a graduate of the University of New Mexico with a Bachelor of Fine Art in theater. Her work has appeared in various online and print journals. Her flash fiction piece, “Bangs,” was nominated for the Best of the Net anthology. Visit

  1. Mr. Darcy, of course.
  2. I would not haunt a where, I would haunt a who. I would nightly scare the crap out of the woman who let my father die alone and neglected.
  3. I’d be one of the crazy characters who runs into the seats and grabs audi­ence members to pull on stage and include in a Cirque du Soleil show.
  4. Bird Week! Let’s explore them all, from the hummingbird to the ostrich, the lesser honeyguide to the Andean condor. Diverse, strange and extraordi­nary. What’s not to love?
  5. Driving to get groceries. I want Scotty to beam me there, standby while I shop, then beam me home.
  6. Caution: May squirt milk through nose.
  7. Icy Aquamarine
  8. A roll of toilet paper.

Kaela Martin is a recent graduate of Stephen F. Austin State University with a BFA in Creative Writing. Her poems have appeared in THAT Literary Review, Thin Air, Catfish Creek, Cowboy Jamboree, Gingerbread House, as well as other journals.

  1. Katherine from The Taming of the Shrew.
  2. I’d haunt a theater on Broadway. I’d get to see all the shows for free and scare the cast. What more could I want?
  3. While I’m good with animals, I’d rather be on the trapeze.
  4. I feel that elephants are way too interesting to not have their own week.
  5. I have an out of control coffee addiction that I should probably get rid.
  6. Talks Too Fast When Excited.
  7. I’m a purple crayon named “Get Hit.”
  8. Eight Laffy Taffy’s, all strawberry flavored.

Lucian C. Mattison is an Argentinean-US poet and translator and the author of two books of poetry, Reaper’s Milonga (YesYes Books, 2018) and Pere­grine Nation (Dynamo Verlag, 2017). His poetry, short fiction, and translations appear in numerous journals including Hayden’s Ferry Review, Hobart, Muzzle, Nano Fiction, The Nashville Review, The Offing,, Puerto Del Sol, and Waxwing. He edits poetry for Big Lucks. Visit

  1. Let’s resurrect Death from Jose Saramago’s Death with Interruptions because why not?
  2. I’d haunt The White House at this point for sure.
  3. Clown on tiny bicycle who is perpetually off-balance.
  4. Let’s give fungi their own week. They deserve it for all their hard work.
  5. Daily schedule? I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.
  6. Slippery when wet?
  7. I’m going dark purple and have it be called Prince.
  8. Sour patch kids. Even if it is a tiny bag.

Jenny McBride’s writing has appeared in Streetwise, Common Ground Review, Rappahannock Review, The California Quarterly, Star 82 Review, Gy­

roscope Review, Conclave, and other publications. Originally from Illinois, she now makes her home in the rainforest of southeast Alaska.

  1. Sylvie, from Marilyn Robinson’s Housekeeping.
  2. The North Slope of Alaska, to scare off petroleum-seeking interlopers.
  3. Bearded lady.
  4. Squirrels.
  5. Mid-morning email check.
  6. She’s gathering material for a novel.
  7. Hazelnut (a lighter shade of chestnut).
  8. Two paperbacks at the Friends of the Library bookstore.

Frank C. Modica is a retired public school teacher who likes history, Brus­sel Sprouts, dark beer, and asparagus. Since his retirement, he volunteers with a number of arts and social service organizations in his community. Frank’s reading and writing is animated by interests in history, geography, religion/spir­ituality, and sociology.

  1. Doctor Watson.
  2. The White House.
  3. The clowns.
  4. Dachshunds.
  5. Combing my hair.
  6. Handle with eclairs.
  7. Green, Olive Oyl.
  8. Travel-size deodorant.

Benjamin Nardolilli currently lives in New York City. His work has ap­peared in Perigee Magazine, Red Fez, Danse Macabre, The 22 Magazine, Quail Bell Magazine, Elimae, fwriction, Inwood Indiana, Pear Noir, The Minetta Review, and Yes Poetry. He blogs at and is looking to pub­lish a novel.

  1. Aaron Burr from Burr.
  2. The restaurants that wouldn’t seat me because I was a party of one in this life.
  3. Bearded Lady.
  4. Mantis Shrimp.
  5. Work.
  6. Only operate under the influence of alcohol.
  7. Nardoon, a mix of red and brown like my facial hair.
  8. Wax Lips.

John A. Nieves’ poems appear in journals such as Beloit Poetry Journal, American Literary Review, and Mid-American Review. He won the Indiana Review Poetry Prize. His first book, Curio, won the Elixir Press Annual Judges Prize, and came out in 2014. He’s an Assistant Professor of English at Salisbury University.

  1. Rabo Karabekian from Vonnegut’s Bluebeard.
  2. The U.S. Capitol Building.
  3. Trapeze Poetry-Reading in Rhythm.
  4. Rock Hyrax.
  5. Cleaning the Litter Box.
  6. Warning: High Fives Incoming.
  7. Florescent Brown, Hot Dirt.
  8. Garlic.

Shilo Niziolek is studying Creative Writing and English Literature at Maryl­hurst University. Her work has been published in the Broad River Review, M Review, Z Publishing’s Best Emerging Oregon Poets Anthology, The Gateway Re­view, and is forthcoming in Heartwood Literary Magazine. Her favorite things are moss and crows.

  1. I’d bring Moses the crow to life from Brian Doyle’s Mink River, because Moses can read and talk and we’d be best friends.
  2. I would haunt the lush green forests of my hometown, Astoria Oregon.
  3. If I joined the circus I’d want to swing from the trapeze.
  4. Foxes should have their own week, because they are beautiful, graceful, cunning, shy, and mischievous.
  5. I would eliminate taking medication and planning out my food to fit the specific time table of my medications for my autoimmune disorders.
  6. Warning Label: Can be abrasive when hungry or tired.
  7. My crayon name would be Frothy and it’d be a mix between cream and coral.
  8. Disney cartoon washrags from the dollar tree that come in little squares and expand when wet; their rough texture is great for washing dishes.

Thomas John Nudi is a filmmaker and writer from Florida. He received an MFA from Chapman University’s Dodge College of Film. His latest feature film, Monty Comes Back, will be released soon. His poetry is featured/forthcoming in Boston University’s Clarion, The Virginia Normal, and Not Your Mother’s Breast Milk.

  1. Cat in the Hat.
  2. Disney World. All four parks. Give the kids a real spook.
  3. Striking the tent, loading the truck.
  4. Humans.
  5. Sleeping/Eating. Either/Or.
  7. Dead palm. Dead Palm.
  8. A small cup of coffee from an unbranded gas station.

Jeanne-Marie Osterman was born and raised in Everett, Washington, and now lives in New York City. Her poems have appeared in Bluestem, The Madison Review, and Third Wednesday. Her chapbook, There’s A Hum, was published in 2018 by Finishing Line Press.

  1. Mrs. Piggle Wiggle.
  2. Currently, the White House.
  3. Setting all the animals free.
  4. Elephants.
  5. Taking out the garbage.
  6. May contain nut products.
  7. Transparent; transparent.
  8. Twelve ounces of water from my local newsstand in New York City.

Michael William Palmer’s work has appeared in Georgetown Review, The Collagist, Bellingham Review, and numerous other publications. He lives in Forest Park, Illinois.

  1. Queequeg from Moby Dick.
  2. I would probably haunt my wife Kathleen unless/until she didn’t like it. Then I’d likely try to arrange a Christmas Carol-type of situation with vari­ous Republicans.
  3. I am a terrible and nervous performer so I doubt I would be very popular. But I am a very good free throw shooter, so I would probably shoot free throws while involving an animal somehow.
  4. If there was a channel that was just camera footage of migratory birds— Canadian geese, sandhill cranes, albatrosses, whatever—I would watch it, likely while drunk and/or crying, and not just one week a year.
  5. Meetings, but I would like them all to be canceled at the last minute so I can feel that rush every day.
  6. Warning: I’m not proud of it, but I will leave group work to everyone else, doing nothing myself, while pretending to be involved.
  7. Crayon name: American Mormon. Color: blindingly white. (Alternative crayon names for that color: Utah Jazz; or, with a shout-out to 30 Rock, Wilco Concert.)
  8. A refill of bad coffee.

Eric Pankey is the Heritage Chair in Writing at George Mason University and the author of twelve collections of poems, most recently Augury: Poems (Milkweed Editions 2017).

Donna Pucciani, a Chicago-based writer, has published poetry on four con­tinents in such diverse journals as Poetry Salzburg, Istanbul Literary Review, Shi Chao Poetry, Journal of Italian Translation, Acumen, and Feile-Festa. Her work has been translated into Italian, Chinese, Japanese, and German. In addition to five Pushcart nominations, she has won awards from the Illinois Arts Coun­

cil and The National Federation of State Poetry Societies, among others. Her seventh and most recent collection of poems is Edges (Purple Flag Press, Virtual Artists Collective, Chicago, 2016).

  1. A Gentleman from Moscow.
  2. San Donato di Ninea, the little village in southern Italy where my grand­parents and cousins were born.
  3. A Clown riding a unicycle.
  4. Rhino.
  5. Nothing. I am already down to the wire, and just need longer days.
  6. Hate Has No Home Here. I’ve had that sign and four others stolen from my front yard in the last year.
  7. Crawdad blue. Your guess what color that’d be.
  8. Dishes at the dollar store.

Robert Rice’s stories and poems have appeared or are forthcoming in various literary magazines, including Hayden’s Ferry, New Letters, The North American Review, The Saint Ann’s Review, and West Wind Review. He has also published four novels, including The Last Pendragon and The Nature of Midnight, and a memoir of six months spent alone in the Montana wilderness, Walking into Silence.

  1. Gandalf
  2. The White House.
  3. The great disappearing man.
  4. Pigs. Why not? They’re smart and cute, and if they smell, well, they proba­bly think we do, too. 5.Cell phones.
  1. Caution! Grumpy before coffee.
  2. Rainbow. It would change color depending on your mood.
  3. Candy.

J.E. Robinson is an award-winning essayist and fiction writer. He now appears Off-Off-Broadway as a playwright, most recently as a part of the Downtown Urban Arts Festival. He resides in Southern Illinois, near Saint Louis, where he is a college history professor.

  1. I am Wing Biddlebaum, the former country schoolteacher abused by homophobia, in Sherwood Anderson’s Hands.
  2. The lecture halls of every institution of higher learning in this country; once a professor . . .
  3. The ringmaster, tumult genius.
  4. The domesticated shorthair cat. Every week is a cat week. Sorry, Napoleon Bonaparte.
  5. Committee meetings at work. Such a mindless waste of time! Except the Awards Committee: somehow, I love giving away money.
  6. “Don’t blink: you might miss something!”
  7. Redbone. Now, that is very, very specific flesh tone!
  8. 1/17th of a share of a mutual fund. Hopefully, more, if Trump keeps blab­bing . . .

Amanda Salvia is a recent graduate of Slippery Rock University and a former editor of SLAB. She lives in northern Pennsylvania where she enjoys long walks on the beach and considering the feminist themes in every film she watches. In

her spare time, she writes, reads, and manages a retail store. It’s where she gets her best ideas.

  1. Mr. Rochester from Jane Eyre so I can hit him.
  2. I’d haunt whoever killed me. I assure you, I’m not dying unless I’m killed.
  3. I’m not showy—I’d probably just mend the tents.
  4. Dumbo octapi! They swim with ear-like fins. I admire them because I too have big ears.
  5. Sleeping. I’d love to be rested without wasting so much time.
  6. Caution: Contents under pressure.
  7. Loquacious Lilac. (I’m a talker, and I’m very pale.)
  8. Four popsicles for my nephew, who always asks for them in rainbow order. A dollar would cover red, orange, yellow, and green, and it’s worth every penny to see his smile.

Haylie Smart is a high school English teacher in Oologah, Oklahoma who has written and published several short stories and columns. She is currently writing her debut novel, which is largely based off the featured story in SLAB. She lives in Claremore, Oklahoma with her Aussie named Reece.

  1. Jamie Fraser from Outlander. Not only would I bring him to life, but I would make him my husband. Sorry Claire.
  2. The residence of Zac Efron. Anywhere he goes—I will follow.
  3. Mind Reader. I’m quite perceptive of what people are thinking and feeling at any given time.
  4. Puppies. I’d pay money to watch puppies play and sleep all week.
  5. Showering! It’s tedious and boring.
  6. Warning: Will Say Things That Make You Uncomfortable.
  7. A deep maroon named Relentless Lips.
  8. Sausage and egg burrito at McDonald’s.

Zinnia Smith is a writer and painter, living between Boston and New York. Her work has been previously published with The Southampton Review, Yankee Magazine, Story Magazine, and Public Pool. Her essay, “smaller,” is an excerpt from her manuscript American Cool.

  1. Somewhere between Joan Didion walking down the aisle in her dark sun­glasses, and Jordan Baker telling Nick: “I don’t give a damn about you now.
  2. The New England woods.
  3. Tightrope walker.
  4. Puffins.
  5. Emails.
  6. Too hot to handle.
  7. “Tequila” gold.
  8. Gas station coffee in a little paper cup.Patrick Stehno, a lifelong writer and self-proclaimed eclectic dilettante, funded literary aspirations through an array of jobs, from lab tech to arts ad­ministrator, exploration geologist to desktop publisher, and vernacular engineer to web manager and retirement. He’s had dozens of poems published in quar­terlies, journals, reviews, and anthologies.
    1. Valentine Michael Smith; from Robert Heinlein’s novel Stranger in a Strange Land. In our tense cultural and political climate we need someone to teach us all to Grok.2.  My 20s and 30s; to vicariously relive some amazing adventures.3. Training the Big Cats.
    4. The desert tortoise of both the Sonoran and Mohave Deserts.
    5. My morning bathroom routine; so I could get into my day faster.
    6. BEWARE: Vicious Writer At Work.
    7. Color: Weathered Grit; Name: Navajo Sandstone.
    8. Any music on Amazon; specifically, Angelyne, by the Jayhawks.

Kelly Talbot has edited books and digital content for twenty years, previously as an in-house editor for Wiley, Macmillan, and Pearson Education, and now as the head of Kelly Talbot Editing Services. His writing has appeared in dozens of magazines. He divides his time between Indianapolis, Indiana, and Timiso­ara, Romania.

  1. Jonathan Livingston Seagull. The world needs more enlightened beings.
  2. Anywhere my wife is, in a Patrick Swayzeish type of way.
  3. Filling the audience with positive energy.
  4. All of them.
  5. I’m not sure. Everything serves a purpose and provides an opportunity for growth and awareness.
  6. Warning: Human being, complete with flaws.
  7. Kelly.
  8. Fresh fruit.

Theresa Taylor teaches English composition at Wenatchee Valley College. Her short stories have appeared in Crosscurrents and Oregon East literary mag­azines, and her poetry has appeared in Mirror Northwest and Oregon East. She lives in Wenatchee, Washington.

  1. Bilbo Baggins. He’s small, brave, often underestimated, a writer, and he can throw a well-timed rock.
  2. Scotland. If I can’t visit there in this life, I’d at least like to visit in the afterlife.
  3. Preferably the Invisible Woman, so I could sneak around pulling pranks without being seen.
  4. Crows. They are such characters.
  5. House cleaning. We hates it, precious.
  6. The quiet ones are the ones to watch out for.
  7. Rust and Rusty Freckles. (A man once said I’d stood in the rain too long and rusted.)
  8. A book from the sale shelf at our local library.

Rachel Tramonte lives & writes in Cleveland, Ohio with her partner and their two daughters. Her work has appeared in Green Hills Literary Lantern, Third Wednesday, The Alembic, and other journals. She has work forth coming in Broken Plate and Matter Monthly.

  1. Mrs. Ramsey from To the Lighthouse.
  2. If I were a ghost I would haunt my daughters. Not to scare them but to inspire them.
  3. Guinea pigs.
  4. A trapeze act.
  5. Driving.
  6. Do not dry.
  7. Tablet white # -1.
  8. Extra guacamole.

John Urban’s poetry has been published in the Common Ground Review, Jet Fuel Review, The Rolling Stone, and The Broad River Review. He presently lives in San Jose, California. His first collection of poems, Three Songs for Children, was published by River Sanctuary Publishing in January 2017.

  1. Captain Nemo.
  2. London.
  3. Motorcycle Dare Devil.
  4. Humming Birds.
  5. Brushing teeth.
  6. Warning: over-sensitive.
  7. Ocean Blue.
  8. Donation to homeless.

Sierra Windham attends Coastal Carolina University as a sophomore and hopes to someday move to Brooklyn with her boyfriend and their kitten, Gin­ger. She is easily distracted by astrology, animals, and cream cheese danishes, and will most likely butt into your conversation should you mention La La Land.