RMC

RMC
Summer 2016: The Forum, Los Angeles, CA (photo by David Tosti)
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Monday, February 23, 2009

Short Fiction & the Oscars



I won't pick apart the Oscars as I did the Grammy's, but I do have a few quick thoughts:

1. I'm very pleased for the recognition received by Slumdog Millionaire. Bollywood + Hollywood = HollyHollyBollyHollyBollyBolly
2. Ben Stiller is genius.
3. I love Beyonce.
4. I had no idea Hugh Jackman had it in him!?
5. When Philippe Petit balanced the award on his chin, it made me want to go see "Man on Wire" and gave me hopes for my short stories to be made into short films.
6. Heath Ledger: Rest In Peace.


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The following below is an excerpt from "Flurry" by Marilyn Urena, which has recently been posted in its entirety on my latino fiction blog. I've been getting some great submissions to this latino fiction blog lately, and I hope it will continue to grow to be a place where people can share their creative works.

Author Bio

Marilyn Urena was born and raised in the Washington Heights section of Manhattan in New York City. She is currently a Bilingual second grade teacher in the Bronx. She published has published "Guiding Light" with LatinGirl Magazine, “Estrella” in Electric Fire as part of the National Book Foundation, “135th Street” in Voices of the Brotherhood Sister Sol, “The First Quarter” and “We Live in a Beautiful World” in The Tablet at Columbia University, and “Trans-Forming America” in Altar Magazine. She participated in the National Book Foundation’s Summer Writing Camp. Marilyn now lives in the South Bronx, and enjoys writing, reading, and dancing. She is currently working on her first novel.

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"Flurry"
by Marilyn Urena


“Your skirt is bunching up,” she said as she quickly pulled her daughter’s skirt down. “You were showing everyone your behind!” she exclaimed.

The last thing she wanted was for anyone to call her daughter a whore, especially the meddlesome, elder women that lived around the corner. She saw them at every 7am Sunday mass, with their colossal golden and lavender sun-hats and their sanctified rosaries. These widowed women seemed innocuous. Their spirit and minds were on the Lord, but she knew the truth.

She knew that when Señor Luis lined up for holy communion, for that perfectly circular bread and tasty wine, the elderly ladies sneered and rolled their eyes. Señor Luis had been caught going down on the nanny just a few days ago.
When Doña Ana dipped her small, stiff, wrinkled index finger in the holy water at the entrance of the church and made the sign of the cross, the ladies giggled. Doña Ana almost certainly also made the sign of the cross as she left the local supermarket from where she stole.

When Maria’s daughter, Sofia, shook others’ hands and said “Peace be with you,” the ladies bowed and shook their heads. They knew—thanks to that loyal, juicy grapevine—that she was in anger management classes and on house arrest for violating her probation.

. . . . read the rest here.





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Vintage Cab I used on MM debut (this is my dad's); it has two 15" Jensen speakers.