UPDATE

I have two acts of business to take care of in this post: an explanation of my use of "mom" in the blog, and an update on the progress of Squiver.

1. I have received comments from a few out there that it's confusing when I reify my audience into a "mom" position. So this will be the hitherforth heretofore & henceforth explanation of my idiosyncratic usage of mom, so those of you who are concerned, continue reading; those of you who get it and don't care, scroll down to point 2.

When someone is small-time, s/he uses her/his immediate social sphere of individuals and groups for support, reflection, and motivation, and although it's not always the case, this immediate circle is often filled with family and close friends. In this initial, insecure phase of creation, the person in question obtains the status of a loser, a square, a pathetic creature. In fact, emotional reliance on that circle, whether it consists of family or not, connotes cultural no-nos like being 35 and living with your mom; it's security, dependence, teet-sucking, etc. at its worst. So, being thoughtful, insecure, and a bit more self-aware than other bloggers, I decided to contain my audience into the term of "mom." This is because the Mother is an extreme version of the inner-sphere of warm blankets and tickle fights; it is a symbol that captures and suggests the ultimate loser'ness: the Mom is the first & the closest to the dot in the middle of the circle that represents the Me. Therefore, to rely on the Mom when by "mom" I mean "my audience," I am poking fun at (myself) the ego-centric and self-consumed bloggers out there who need their audiences the way a loser needs his mother to reassure him that he isn't a sorry excuse of a mammal. In fact, moms are notorious for listening to and nodding at the boring, endless rhetoric of their son/daughter, much the same way an audience can hang on the every stupid word of the many ridiculous bloggers out there. Including Squiversphere.

2. Texts are compiled, advertisers are getting gotten this week, logo is complete, ad system is settled upon, and Oct. 3rd is the date Squiver 1.1 will be handed over to the printer in a ceremony of much pomp and circumstance. With the help of my Artistic Director and the INTERN, the staff of Squiver has decided that we will hack off the complex limbs of this beast of a publication and keep the simple, soothing torso. In other words, I'm going back to the basics: I'm re-adopting the original vision of the magazine: a basic, short, cheap-to-print, and colorless publication distributed to art-centric organizations in the Boulder area. This publication will feature a few well-known writers, a guest writer, and a heap of local, philosophically inclined folk writing their perceptions of contemporary American culture. It will also be full of B&W photos. Simple, yes? Yes.

Mom, thanks for listening, you're the best.

TIME OF CONTEMPLATION

Hi. Mom. I've slipped into a depressed state in regards to my little venture. As bills pile up, and time drags on, I have little-to-nothing to show for this ass-butt of a publication. I am. Unhappy. I feel as if the whole thing is moving in the wrong direction, and that it's not as edgy and interesting as the many texts out there that I admire so. As a direct result of this feeling, I am abandoning my sole proprietorshipness, and taking on various forms of partners: creative consultants, an intern, an ad-getting troupe, and other people to address various future problems unforeseen. These folks aren't necessarily qualified to do their jobs, as they are simply my circle of friends. This is admittedly W. Bush cronyism at its worst.

Why do I choose this route rather than abandoning the project all together? Because, in the end, I started this because Boulder/Denver and the rest of the Rocky Mountain Region genuinely needs something like this. I feel like a publication of the caliber I have in my head, if it can be executed well, will have an impact, generate discussion, and electrify the region's creative class. I am pathetic, I know. I keep going when all the signs & symptoms suggest the whole thing should be taken to the vet and put down. But I like cancerous pets. They may smell funny, but you can predict them better than anything else: they'll be dead soon.

PERSEPHONE

I am she who is the queen of the underworld.

Today I received a decent article from a friend that quickly and efficiently draws a connection between a 90s sitcom episode's narrative and commercial art in advertising. Interesting. This is the kind of stuff I need, mom. I also jacked with the website more and it looks like ass. Congratulations to me for failing.

My intent for today was to finish my workbook development, get a list of folks who're writin' for S&L together with their contact info & topics, and prepare myself for ad sales. But who has time for that.

Schlepp.

DIA DE LOS TRES

So I hate. And hate and hate. No more love is in my body. I have transformed from a bottle on a window sill, the light of summer streaming through my body, to a black beetle clicking and clacking along the edge of the kitchen table. There are metallic grinds and grunts that issue forth from my mouth that my wife and acquaintances think is talking. I have ground my soul into a dusty meal, like Indians with a handfuls of sandy corn. My back won't stop sweating. There are only so many days of summer.

I hope I'm not turning into a disgruntled editor. But it seems that's what's happening. The only thing is, I don't smoke cigars and I don't yell at people and I don't have an office in Gotham. I hate my website, I hate the website copy I've written, I hate my layout, I hate.

Maybe I need a good lay. Or a car that works. Or something I imagine to come into being.

s.o.b.

DOS DIAS

I'm a tard. I have so many things to do. I lament. I prostrate myself. I rip my outer garments and throw ash and soil upon the top of my head in agony. I bitch and bitch and bitch. I am an Israelite of contemporary America. Look at me, sad-faced and fasting. Because I've lost favor from the magazine god.

So I clocked in at 1pm again. Big freakin' deal. Apparently I don't want to publish this thing, and I want my wife to be so displeased with supporting my dreams that we just simply divorce. I am public idiot #1.

I have a myriad of essays to edit and review. So many countless essays, like the white angels of the heavens. I have about 3 dozen emails to respond to, organize. I have to annoy the salespeople at Publication Printers in Denver and Quebecor to get me a friggin quote on printing. I must write interview questions today. I must write a review of a chapbook to post. I must reconfigure my mockup of the publication to 8.5in X 8in rather than the letter-sized parameters of the current document. And those aren't even what's the most important. Advertisers. I have ONE advertiser. I hope to god, mom, that Lighthouse Writers Workshop decide to advertise, as well as Ghost Roads Press. I have 40+ businesses/orgs listed in my contact list. Jeez.

Oh, and here's a doozy: I need a work book for myself. What's a workbook? Well, mom, it's a document I print for every issue of S&L which features a mini-layout, a list of writers and topics, contact info, and misc. notes for that issue. It's a document I can carry with me that helps me to keep everything organized. I'll have to create this out of thin air to suit my specific needs.

These are the things I have in my hands...like grape nuts, or marbles. Do you remember pogs? Slammers & Pogs. How lame were they? pretty lame, in fact.

FIRST DAY AT WORK

first day on the job, folks. Clocked in at 1, clocking out at 4:40. 3hrs 40min is admittedly not so much time, but I'm working at least 40 hours this week, and this is the earliest I got started on S&L tasks.

I'm still stuck in the phase of finding/securing writers & texts. Behold, however, I am on the verge of emergence from this cave of winds and stalagmites, the bright world is reduced, albeit, to a pin-sized hole at the edge of my dungeon, but the sun is at least orbiting the earth still, right? and that's all that's important here. There is earth and sky and other things, and as long as they are there, being here is a yesterday of tomorrow. Yes? yes.

So what that means is today, a friend of mine has agreed to a monthly column that will psychoanalyze early 90s sitcoms like Step by Step and Full House. What a perfect fit. Additionally, I contacted this awesome writer who wrote this awesome story in the DIAGRAM 8.3 that you should totally read, mom. Here it is.

Oh and I think there is something to the fact that I'm calling an audience (plural readers) who aren't even there my Mom. I don't know what that something is, but it's there for sure. Something.

adios.

ARGENTINA & THE GYPSY MOTH EAT MEAT & TREE BARK

there are so many awesome people with awesome ideas wanting to write for this little magazine. And I've gotten so much general support from the community; e.g. people contacting me, not to say anything but "I'm all for your magazine, it sounds great, go for it." I'm genuinely surprised. Not that I thought it'd be ignored totally, but I was sure that I'd have to fight tooth & tongue for any legitimate response & support. Needless to say, I'm happy.

In addition to this, someone made me the godfather of their firstborn, an old widow named me as the primary heir to her generation-old steel & oil fortune from the late 19th century, and a deacon from the Vatican visited me & my family to verify stories of miracles I've performed. What a week.

Oh, I'm also pretty d*mn near close to finishing this first issue. Let me tell you what, mom, I'm pretty impressed with the writers in our community. We gotz peoplz writing on the following exciting topics:

1) Micro-financing in Nepal vs. macro-financing in the U.S.
2) Panty-Branding: the roofie of undergarments
3) the middle class American's garage: a history from 1750-2008
4) (hopefully) the tupperware culture! (so cool)
5) Banana Republics: how colonial-minded corps like Chiquita can be used for the branding of bland clothing and no one seems to care.
6) why black hip-hop artists are represented by fewer groups/bands than white "alternative" artists, and why white artists are represented by fewer single-musicians than black hip-hop artists. (this article will be unabashedly unscientific and will be based off all kinds of blanket statements and pre-scribed ideas...mmm, discomfort)
7) lunaception: the female's jive with the cosmos
8) prosti-tots: why dirty, slutty youngins have and always will be the fear of the status quo.

and so on and so on. There's this guy named John who does some cool, quirky little comics, and like totally he's like going to send me some, like, comics to publish. And then my new favorite poet, Mathias Svalina, author of Creation Myths (New Michigan Press) is going to be giving an interview as soon as I get my can out of my seat and start writing some questions. And so is Julie Carr, poet extraordinaire. And then, folks, in addition to these and a few other unmentioned articles, I am working on a guest theorist. He's a big deal, a very big deal. And I hope he'll write something on either A) foreign policy or B) the importance of self-expression as guaranteed via press (not like "the media" type press, but how the small press was vital to the health of the Revolution, and why it's still vital to the expression of political and social deviance). You have no idea how big this guy is.

So, that's my update. Things are going smoothly at S&L world headquarters in Boulder.

Thanks for reading, mom.

(I think this mom thing will be an ongoing joke here at Squiversphere)

a bat flaps a toenail chip of sharded glass into a sliver of pie-like salt, and eats the mosquito of the light, the moth of the face, the pupil, and unties himself a knot of entrails sealed tightly into a fistful of yells in the alleyway. Here is where the black abyss sinks us into memories eating memories: a fictional wife slaying a dungeon of pigs.

CONGRATULATIONS!

A shout out to my audience: me & my mom. Hi mom. Okay, so she doesn't read this either. But soon, this blog will be the most-frequented blog dedicated to any arts magazine called Squid & Liver. Soon.

So, folks, it looks like this is it. Three days ago I began my push to publish the first issue of what will be a very neat magazine. I've been way too soft on myself, allowing the deadlines to be pushed back more and more. So, this is it, I told myself that if I don't have the files into the printer by June 30th, then I will abandon this project. Translation: Squid & Liver will be published the first weekend of July. In order to get the files in to the printer, I need to have the following: a printer-quote, content, complete layout, and ADVERTISERS to pay for printing. So let's get a quick breakdown of what I have done and what needs to be done:

What I have done: I have secured approximately 70% of the content. Writers include award-winning poets, Ph.D. candidates, and journalists associated with other well-known zines. I have contacted printers for quotes, but have yet to receive word from them. Layout is 50% complete; while I have a file for layout, it's only a mock-up and doesn't necessarily represent the exact format. So, I'd say it represents 50% of the design work. And lastly, I've contacted about 20 potential advertisers to get my name out there. I need to make second-contact today & tomorrow, and third contact next week WHILE I make first & second contacts with dozens more businesses.

What I have yet to do: Fill the remaining 30% of content. Secure quotes and choose THE printer. Take the content I have and input it into the layout. Save. Email to potential advertisers saying "this is the magazine, minus the advertisers. please advertise with us. thanks." Fill advertising sections. Design advertisements. Finish layout. Email end-file to printer. Hop up and down.

Good deal, yes?

SECOND POSTING IN 2 YRS

So it's been several months since I've posted on the omnipotent & omniscient blogosphere, but then again it's been several months since I've done anything with Squid & Liver. But what I mean by "since I've done anything" is anything institutional or formal or public. I've certainly done a lot, so let me tell you about my boat:

1) new & upgraded website w/ official domain name
2) bank account
3) business plan is complete & printed
4) business literature: ratesheet, online copy, mock-ups, business cards, etc.
5) stock photo subscription
6) received & read many a "review book" sent to me last year
7) secured a few writers
8) joined the local Small Business Development Center & received counseling
9) took layout & design class on InDesign for a refresher

I think that's it, fool. Yesterday I formed what I call a 2-week stratagem where I dictate the general direction and benchmarks for the next, well obviously 2 weeks.

The rabbits of screams coat the eyes in glass fishtanks, us fingering the edges and following the black-mouthed piranhas of your ideas, eating memory after memory of the 100s of girls' legs you've licked. Whore.

squiver's first blog

so I've been working on this stupid journal for 6 months now, and I still haven't a single publication produced. There have been many times when I've wished I had chosen investment banking over the humanities, but I guess I need to learn the lesson to "stay the course" since I never had a father to teach me that.

Anyway, so far I've registered the name Squid & Liver with the state, registered a DBA bank account (with $3 in it right now), taken a class on InDesign and played around with layout, created a website, bought a domain name, talked to a few local publishers about my existence, notified my family of my venture, completely transformed my trashy student office into a professional place that wreaks of professionalism (complete with fancy shmancy file cabinets and cheap shelving I constructed and little photo boxes full of my misc. crap that was previously laying around everywhere), written a (partial) business plan (yes, you a-hole, the most important thing is only half-assed here), fetched quotes from printers, formed an army of eager reviewers essayists and writers, and readied a PeachTree account for balancing the books every month. I've also re-structured our family finances to move in a general upward motion rather than a steady plummet that it once was.

What do I have yet to do: wait for the mandatory 60-days to transfer my domain name to my website, write copy for my website/publish, gather data about my worthless competitors so that I can transcribe it to my informative and revealing and convincing rate-sheet, pdf the rate-sheet and post it on the website, get cheap business cards printed and my stamp made for my cards' logo, recontact the lovely artists and organizations and businesses that might like to advertise for cheap, contact myriads of other artists galleries publishing houses and coffee shops for advertising, meet with printer & finalize dimensions, meet with advertisers, finalize "points of distribution," finalize the first layout/load content, sent to printer, and hooray distribute the bloody thing.

It really feels like it's one-million years away. Just like happiness.