literary magazines – Andrew Careaga

New essay: ‘Secondhand Guitar’

A 500-word micro-essay published in Pittsburgh Review of Books

Some artifacts of our lives become lost to time but live on in our memories. Such is the case of some hand-me-down guitars I once owned. These were the beginner’s instruments that blistered my tender fingers and spurred me to continue to practice as I dreamed of rock’n’roll glory, until I became a guitar player of some competency, if not proficiency.

My essay, “Secondhand Guitar,” is a 500-word piece about some of the guitars that shaped my growth as a musician. It was published earlier this week in the Pittsburgh Review of Books as part of its Object Lessons Impressions series of mini-essays–or “essayettes,” as PRoB calls them–“on the hidden lives of ordinary things.”

I wrote “Secondhand Guitar” thanks to the encouragement of Dr. Margret Grebowicz, the Weiner Distinguished Professor of Humanities at my former employer, Missouri University of Science and Technology. Margret also created and leads the Public Scholars Network at Missouri S&T, and last spring invited me to join the group. The network includes academics, mainly, who want to get their work out into the world beyond academia. I’m all about that, so I readily agreed to join the network, and I’m happy to add “Secondhand Guitar” to my growing list of music-themed writings. I hope you’ll give it a read and let me know your thoughts.

Cover image via Pexels.

Friday Five: short story writer Charlie Kondek

‘… in advertising I was a strategist, and I think I bring a strategist’s approach to writing.’

There’s a certain type of fiction writer who comes to the craft from the world of public relations and marketing, and brings that perspective and expertise to their work. A knack for straightforward storytelling mixed with a bit of salesmanship. Charlie Kondek is one of those people.

Charlie Kondek in his man cave, enjoying a libation and the liner notes of Gordon Lightfoot’s *Sundown* album.

New poem: ‘Our Crisis of Confidence’

How a literary magazine editor’s challenge prompted me to write this poem about my 19-year-old life

Once in a while, I encounter something online that ignites a spark of creativity.

That’s what happened in June, when Justin Carter, a writer and editor of the literary-magazine-that-looks-like-a-message-board Some Words, posted a challenge to writers on Twitter/X. Some of us were busy posting images of ourselves when we were 19. Many of us were working diligently at avoiding our writing by posting pics when Justin suggested we should instead “be writing poems about themselves at 19 & sending those poems to some words.”

Challenge accepted.

I spent that afternoon writing “Our Crisis of Confidence,” an impressionistic piece about my 19th year on this planet (November 1979-November 1980). It was a tumultuous time of high gas prices, stagflation, crisis with Iran, and a president that seemed to be fumbling everything he touched. Sound familiar? Plus ça change, as they say.

Here’s a peek at the intro:

OUR CRISIS OF CONFIDENCE

We found ourselves at Jack’s house
most Friday nights. Saturdays, too.
We’d hand over a buck or two, if
we had it to spare, to help cover
the cost of beer. Jack was of age
and always had a keg on tap
in his extra fridge on the back porch,
stacks of red Solo cups on the adjacent card table.
Sometimes the beer was flat.
We didn’t care. We came
to escape our mundane fast-food jobs,
our junior-college lives, our worries
about the uncertain future. We wanted
The Cars on Jack’s stereo, letting us know
it was okay to let the good times roll, oh-oh.

***

My thanks to Justin for posting this challenge back in June, and for accepting this piece for publication.

Friday Five: ‘Mythic Picnic’ editor Nathan Pettigrew

‘I’ve spent most of my life writing stories in memo pads, notebooks, and endless Word docs.’

There are a lot of reasons a lot of users have abandoned Twitter (aka X) over the past few years. But one reason for staying connected to that platform–hellscape that it is–is to read some great micro fiction published by a literary magazine you can only find there.

I’m talking about Mythic Picnic, the Twitter/X micro-fiction magazine created by Mark Finnemore and now managed by author and editor Nathan Pettigrew (@NathanBorn2010 on Twitter, which is his primary online address). For the Picnic, Nathan is looking for the brief stories (up to 350 words, including the title and writer’s bio) in a wide variety of fiction. MythicPicnic is also a paying market, which is a rare occurrence these days.

Natham Pettigrew with his beloved dog Brody, who recently passed.

A native of Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana, Nathan now calls Florida home and when he isn’t writing crime fiction or editing his literary magazine, he works in the healthcare sector. His stories have appeared in Rock and a Hard Place, Thuglit, Bristol Noir, and Switchblade, along with some anthologies, including the phenomenal Bad Intentions: Crime Fiction Inspired by Warren Zevon, which came out July 7 and which I’ve flogged mercilessly on this blog and elsewhere. This fall, his collection of short stories, Tales from Terrebonne, will be published by Rock and a Hard Place Press.

Read on to learn more about Nathan’s writing, his forthcoming story collection, Mythic Picnic, and more.

Behind the story with ‘Literary Garage’

In which I discuss my short story ‘The Doctor’s Version’ from the ‘Bad Intentions’ anthology

Many thanks to the good folks at Literary Garage for posting this behind-the-scenes nterview with me about my short story “The Doctor’s Version,” which is one of 15 stories in the crime fiction collection Bad Intentions: Crime Fiction Inspired by the Music of Warren Zevon. The collection is now available online and from your favorite bookstore. (If they don’t have it in stock, they can order it for you.)

Here’s how Literary Garage describes the story:

Told with chilling wit and razor-sharp irony, ‘The Doctor’s Version’ explores power, manipulation, and the ease with which evil can disguise itself as professionalism. Careaga delivers a compelling crime story in which the most dangerous person in the room isn’t the addict—it’s the man utterly convinced he’s the hero.

More than a crime story, it’s a masterclass in unreliable moral perspective.

I hope you’ll hop on over to Substack to give it a read.