Asbury Park
By: Stephen Mesa
I park my car on the corner of Second Avenue, about a block away from the beach and the boardwalk because now they have numbers on all the spots closer to the waterfront so you have to pay the meter in order to park there. It never used to be like this. I used to park here for free and I’m sure not going to pay to park here now. So I park a little further, past Kingsley Street where the numbers stop and the parking is free and always available. This is my usual spot. Right in front a cozy little yellow house with white shutters. It would be perfect for a small family of four, except its abandoned and boarded up. I often wonder what happened to the tenants who lived here and fantasize about one day buying it for cheap, since it is condemned, and fixing it up so I could raise my family a block away from the beach. But the yard of this house is full of big chunks of cement from the remains of a demolished building, I assume, and it wouldn’t be very forgiving for kids to play upon. Many of the houses in this area are in the same condition. The majority of them are big old Victorian houses that look like they were probably gorgeous in their prime but now they are run down, dilapidated and now abandoned or condemned and boarded up. Every couple houses you come across one that was restored though. They tend to all look the same. Giant, beautiful, quaint architecture with pastel colored beams and shutters, plenty of flowers adorning the yard and a rainbow flag flying waving off the front porch. They all moved here a couple years ago and started pumping money into the community, saying they’re gonna bring back the “glory days” of Asbury Park. They always say that about this place, but every time they try it never quite makes it back.
During these “glory days” they speak of it was thriving shore town. A merry go round on Kingsley Street, was one of the earliest attractions the city had to offer. It was called the Palace Amusement Complex and many wealthy Families from New York used to come spend their summer weekends in accompanying high rise hotels. Now, as I walk across Kingsley, there is no traffic to heed, and the light at the intersection just blinks yellow, instead of turning red and green like most lights do, since the street now doesn’t get nearly as many cars passing through as it used to and the amusement park and many hotels have long since been torn down.
I walk on the grass past the back of the Stone Pony. “Bruce Springsteen used to play here” they say. This is where he got is his big break, that’s the Stone Pony’s claim to fame. Now when you walk by, through the ever empty parking lot, all you can hear is dissonance blaring through the walls from the local punk rock bands playing inside. There’s always some sort of battle of the bands going on here, or a Motor head cover band playing inside while there’s five Harleys parked out front. The summer stage is still up, though it is late November. They have their “summer concert series” outside here in the back parking lot and they make sure that everybody is aware of it by putting signs, posters and billboards all over the city advertising it since it is one of the few things still going on in the city.
I cross Ocean Avenue, the board walk is my horizon. On the other side is the ocean. I can hear the waves crashing already from where I stand and as I draw nearer the board walk I hear the sound of a lone percussionist drumming cadences in hopes to draw some generosity from the hearts and pockets of the passers by. He is surprisingly talented for a kid with a Mohawk I think to myself as a man sits next to him on a bench shouting inaudible nonsense along with his music for some reason. The man has on tan, grease stained overalls. He has long grey stringy hair and a tired face with the expression of a sad pug and skin that resembled a used baseball glove. I would’ve dropped a dollar in the kid’s bucket if I wasn’t so intimidated by the obvious case of substance abuse induced dementia sitting next to him.
After examining the pair for a moment I turn my attention to the ocean in front of me. The sea is a cold color grey, mirroring the sky above. The storm had only passed this morning. I was hoping it would bring more significant sized swells than this. Disappointed by the conditions of the waves off the usual jetty I surf, I decide to take a walk up and down the boardwalk and check some other spots in search of maybe a more appealing break.
To my right is what remains of the Casino that used to be one of the main attractions the city had to offer during its hay day. I could imagine it during the roaring 20’s as I’ve only seen it in pictures. Women with feathers in their short curly hair and pearls around their necks, long frilly dresses showing a little bit of leg at the bottom, sitting next to their men with their pin stripped suits and matching hats, smoking cigars and gambling away their wealth. If only they knew what was to come next.
The great depression wasn’t kind to Asbury Park and business moved to other shore towns with newer bigger board walks like Seaside Heights, Atlantic City and Wild Wood. The Casino was shut down along with many of the cities other attractions. Years later that they put a Skate park in the building, this was my first impression of it and why I first started coming to this place. But I only got to enjoy it for maybe a year before they shut it down and boarded up the building entirely, though they left some ride able remains of ramps inside and kids would break in through windows or pry off boards to get in and skate them.
Now a walkway through the old Casino building has been opened up, allowing the boardwalk to continue on into the neighboring town, a private community known as Ocean Grove, which had long since been blocked off to pedestrian traffic and the residents of Asbury. This opening of the walkway in 2005 was meant to kick-off the revitalization of the city’s boardwalk and it was around that same time that many commercial plots along the boardwalk, that had long since been vacant, opened up as new restaurants, shops and attractions. It was right around this time that they installed the parking meters as well.
Adjacent to the casino, a new, high scale, Italian restaurant with maroon settings on the tables outside appears void of customers and a miserable young blonde hostess gives me an awkward smile as I pass by. The ice cream shop next door to it is closed for the off season but the next place I pass shows plenty of signs of life. It is The Empress Hotel, complete with a bar and lounge in the lobby and rainbow lights flashing along the side of it to draw attention.
As I continue up the boardwalk I begin to take notice to how very few people there are to keep me company, and there are even less people on the beach, probably because the weather is so inclement. I near the small water park just recently completed this year but already closed for the winter and a couple walks their dog past me. The one man wearing macro made jean shorts and the other has a receding hair line and a mustache. My opaque sunglasses disguise the fact that I am analyzing them. There are still several unoccupied retail spaces along the middle of the boardwalk and just on the other side of Ocean Avenue is the foundation for what were to be luxury condominiums that were never finished.
At the north end of the board walk, what used to be a Stewart’s and a Howard Johnson’s is now the Saltwater Beach Café. At least they left the uniquely shaped peaky roof, and orange spiral stair case that circles the building, making it a land mark of Asbury Park. Next to it are other famous structures that have endured through the times with the city such as the Wonder Bar. Painted on the building is the recognizable, grinning, cartoon character of Tillie, or as some call him “The Face of Asbury Park.”
Across a big open yard of grass stands the Berkley, One of The Cities oldest and most distinguished hotels. I remember first coming here as a youth to watch my favorite bands play in an annual concert series called the Warped Tour in the parking lot of this hotel, before the concerts were relocated to a different venue that was not so Asbury Park. The Berkley was where all the bands stayed the night. I still consult the flag perched atop the establishment to judge winds direction while surfing.
I am at the north end of the board walk now. Only one building separates me and this city from the wealthy private beach community of Loch Arbor on the other side. It is the Convention Hall; a staple structure and probably the cities most famous building. It is a magnificent old brick, palatial looking monument really, a relic still standing testament to the rich cultural history of Asbury Park. In it is The Paramount Theatre where they used to hold plays and musicals. This weekend there is going to be roller derby, apparently, according to the advertisements out front. As I am staring at the majestic building I hear a man playing blues guitar from inside. I watch his leathery looking fingers work the fret board as he sits on a bucket and pours his soul into the guitar. I am interrupted from my admiration by a homeless woman asking for change. She explains to me her name is Terry and she didn’t used to be homeless until her boyfriend pushed her in front of a train. Now she has a bad back and needs to get her fix, as she makes a smoking gesture with her hands. I give her a dollar and after another five minutes of rambling about nonsense she says “may God bless you” and we go our separate ways. I turn around and walk through the open gates of the Convention Center but not before I look up at the side of the building to a sign that caught my attention. I chuckle to myself quietly as I read the words “Greetings from Asbury Park!”
Monday, December 14, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Course /Evaluation Reflection
Course Evaluation/Reflection
1. Meeting course objectives
Course objectives
Learn to recognize and use strategies & conventions commonly found in cnf including: reflection, segmentation, narrative voice, use of scenes, dialog, character development, and detailed description, movement between the subject at hand and a personal, reflective perspective focused on a concept
Develop an invention process based in writing
Develop/extend revising process
Explore different forms for CNF
Questions:
What did you learn in this course?
I learned about what creative non-fiction is, before this course I had no idea. I learned how to make a point by telling a story and not really coming out and shoving my point down the readers throat. I learned how to let the details and the descriptions do that for me subtly which is important in all literature, not just CNF.
About the form of CNF?
I learned that CNF should move back and forth between storytelling and reflection. They are often personal essays and it is good to tell it from multiple views to offer different perspectives.
What did you learn about how to write CNF?
I learned to keep my opinions and blatantly obvious statements out of the story and let the reader draw the conclusions from the story instead of telling them.
About where to publish/find publishing venues for your creative writing?
I just looked at all the ones you had listed on your blog and I found that fourth river would be an appropriate one for my work because of the subject matter.
Did you change anything /try anything different in your writing process? Please describe.
Certainly, I think I grew a lot in my writing skills over the course of this class. The first essay I really just told a story with no point. Then the second essay I told a story with a point but I made it way too obvious and came right out and said it. Then finally for my last essay I finally learned to do it just right by telling a story with vivid description of a place that drove home a point discretely and not too overtly and I think you agree.
Which class assignments/class experiences helped you learn whatever you learned?
I think the two most influential pieces I read in this class were George Orwell’s because his really showed the point and reflection in CNF and then reading Marvin Gardens showed me how to do that using only detail and not being as straight forward as orwell and that greatly impacted my last piece of work and I think, no exaggeration, made me a better writer and I will carry the things I learned in this class room with me for the rest of my life.
What do you wish the course spent more time on?
Honestly I cannot think of any particular thing. I think the course was conducted well and we spent a good amount of time on reading and writing and it was enough of each.
What do you wish we'd spent less time on?
The only thing I can think of is sometimes reading everyone’s journal entries out loud took a great duration of the class and then there was no time left for anything else. And it’s probably not your fault but some people just told really long boring stories that I was not interested in at all.
2. Structure of course/assignments
Assignements
Blogs- Honestly at first I thought that the use of the blogs was annoying because I am not a fan of technology or web enhanced classes. I tend to be old fashion. Though I was overwhelmed by the idea of a blog at first because I did not ever really understand what a blog was but not I do and they sort of grew on me but if I had the choice to have class with a blog or not I would still prefer blogless. Lol
readings
writing journal
writing assignments
exploration of publication venues
Questions:
Right pace/schedule?
Yes. I think the course moved at a good pace. Though, honestly, I’m feeling a little rushed and there seems to be a lot of work at the end such as the final draft, presentations and portfolio but that is typical of a college class for professors to unexpectedly run out of time and then try and jam everything left into the last minute.
Coherence of material?
I found the majority of the material pertinent, though some of it was a bit dry. The only one that I do not think was coherent was Montigaine, I have a hard time seeing that as CNF.
Workload => Too much, too little, just right? What would you change?
I felt like it was a little much at time. Especially keeping up with the blogs was pretty cumbersome, we had something to write for every class. It would be nice to not have any homework for once to be honest.
Cover material appropriate to course goals?
See coherence of materials.
Enough feedback for grades?
Definitely, I especially found the one on one conferences very helpful rather than just writing a few comments on a paper and handing it back the conferences were at more personal and we were able to have intellectual discussions that really helped point me in the right direction for revision.
3. Provisions for feedback/grades
Forms of evaluation + feedback
comments/grades for blogs
comments from classmates
reading aloud from journals + class discussion
conferences with professor on papers
group work with classmates on papers
written feedback/grades on papers
reflective writing about your work (in you journal, on your blog)
Questions:
Which form of feedback was most helpful? Like I said the conferences were incredibly helpful, though I thought it was a bit of a paint to take time out of my schedule to have to meet outside of class it turned out to be very productive and insightful.
Which did you enjoy most? I enjoyed group work. I always do.
Any which you felt was unproductive?> I never really paid much attention to my classmates feed back because when I did they mostly made broad statements that weren’t all that useful such as “I liked your story, it was good.” Guess they were just being nice and didn’t wanna criticize too much.
What would you do more of? I should’ve read more of my classmates work and participated more in class but social anxiety of paralyzes me from doing so.
What would you do less of? I don’t know. I think I did little enough. Lol
Did you feel the grading system was fair? Indeed , I especially like your concept you explained to us one day that you really like to grade on whether you think a student gets it at the end of the course rather than taking a cumulative average.
Did the grades/grading system contribute to learning? I think it really encouraged me to try and understand the material more so that if I got it I could get an A.
4. General response
Is there anything you could tell me that would help me teach a better/more engaging course?
I thought the course was very engaging. From the reading, to journal writing and reading to the group work with classmates and your own personal stories and feedback. It was a very friendly, intimate environment in which I really felt comfortable expressing myself creatively.
Anything you want to say about your experience of the course?
Overall I must say I really enjoyed the experience of taking this class, and I am glad I registered for it despite not knowing what it really was. I think everything happens for a reason and I learned a lot in taking this course and I feel like I learned some really key things about being a writer that I will carry with me forever. Such as using details to describe people places and things instead of just coming out and saying it, and I never realized it before this course but that is what all good authors do. I think I have learned to apply this well and my writing has improved greatly from the beginning of this course to the end and as I said I will carry the things I learned with me about writing in this class for the rest of my life, which I more than I can say about most of the English classes I’ve taken at this university.Thank you.
1. Meeting course objectives
Course objectives
Learn to recognize and use strategies & conventions commonly found in cnf including: reflection, segmentation, narrative voice, use of scenes, dialog, character development, and detailed description, movement between the subject at hand and a personal, reflective perspective focused on a concept
Develop an invention process based in writing
Develop/extend revising process
Explore different forms for CNF
Questions:
What did you learn in this course?
I learned about what creative non-fiction is, before this course I had no idea. I learned how to make a point by telling a story and not really coming out and shoving my point down the readers throat. I learned how to let the details and the descriptions do that for me subtly which is important in all literature, not just CNF.
About the form of CNF?
I learned that CNF should move back and forth between storytelling and reflection. They are often personal essays and it is good to tell it from multiple views to offer different perspectives.
What did you learn about how to write CNF?
I learned to keep my opinions and blatantly obvious statements out of the story and let the reader draw the conclusions from the story instead of telling them.
About where to publish/find publishing venues for your creative writing?
I just looked at all the ones you had listed on your blog and I found that fourth river would be an appropriate one for my work because of the subject matter.
Did you change anything /try anything different in your writing process? Please describe.
Certainly, I think I grew a lot in my writing skills over the course of this class. The first essay I really just told a story with no point. Then the second essay I told a story with a point but I made it way too obvious and came right out and said it. Then finally for my last essay I finally learned to do it just right by telling a story with vivid description of a place that drove home a point discretely and not too overtly and I think you agree.
Which class assignments/class experiences helped you learn whatever you learned?
I think the two most influential pieces I read in this class were George Orwell’s because his really showed the point and reflection in CNF and then reading Marvin Gardens showed me how to do that using only detail and not being as straight forward as orwell and that greatly impacted my last piece of work and I think, no exaggeration, made me a better writer and I will carry the things I learned in this class room with me for the rest of my life.
What do you wish the course spent more time on?
Honestly I cannot think of any particular thing. I think the course was conducted well and we spent a good amount of time on reading and writing and it was enough of each.
What do you wish we'd spent less time on?
The only thing I can think of is sometimes reading everyone’s journal entries out loud took a great duration of the class and then there was no time left for anything else. And it’s probably not your fault but some people just told really long boring stories that I was not interested in at all.
2. Structure of course/assignments
Assignements
Blogs- Honestly at first I thought that the use of the blogs was annoying because I am not a fan of technology or web enhanced classes. I tend to be old fashion. Though I was overwhelmed by the idea of a blog at first because I did not ever really understand what a blog was but not I do and they sort of grew on me but if I had the choice to have class with a blog or not I would still prefer blogless. Lol
readings
writing journal
writing assignments
exploration of publication venues
Questions:
Right pace/schedule?
Yes. I think the course moved at a good pace. Though, honestly, I’m feeling a little rushed and there seems to be a lot of work at the end such as the final draft, presentations and portfolio but that is typical of a college class for professors to unexpectedly run out of time and then try and jam everything left into the last minute.
Coherence of material?
I found the majority of the material pertinent, though some of it was a bit dry. The only one that I do not think was coherent was Montigaine, I have a hard time seeing that as CNF.
Workload => Too much, too little, just right? What would you change?
I felt like it was a little much at time. Especially keeping up with the blogs was pretty cumbersome, we had something to write for every class. It would be nice to not have any homework for once to be honest.
Cover material appropriate to course goals?
See coherence of materials.
Enough feedback for grades?
Definitely, I especially found the one on one conferences very helpful rather than just writing a few comments on a paper and handing it back the conferences were at more personal and we were able to have intellectual discussions that really helped point me in the right direction for revision.
3. Provisions for feedback/grades
Forms of evaluation + feedback
comments/grades for blogs
comments from classmates
reading aloud from journals + class discussion
conferences with professor on papers
group work with classmates on papers
written feedback/grades on papers
reflective writing about your work (in you journal, on your blog)
Questions:
Which form of feedback was most helpful? Like I said the conferences were incredibly helpful, though I thought it was a bit of a paint to take time out of my schedule to have to meet outside of class it turned out to be very productive and insightful.
Which did you enjoy most? I enjoyed group work. I always do.
Any which you felt was unproductive?> I never really paid much attention to my classmates feed back because when I did they mostly made broad statements that weren’t all that useful such as “I liked your story, it was good.” Guess they were just being nice and didn’t wanna criticize too much.
What would you do more of? I should’ve read more of my classmates work and participated more in class but social anxiety of paralyzes me from doing so.
What would you do less of? I don’t know. I think I did little enough. Lol
Did you feel the grading system was fair? Indeed , I especially like your concept you explained to us one day that you really like to grade on whether you think a student gets it at the end of the course rather than taking a cumulative average.
Did the grades/grading system contribute to learning? I think it really encouraged me to try and understand the material more so that if I got it I could get an A.
4. General response
Is there anything you could tell me that would help me teach a better/more engaging course?
I thought the course was very engaging. From the reading, to journal writing and reading to the group work with classmates and your own personal stories and feedback. It was a very friendly, intimate environment in which I really felt comfortable expressing myself creatively.
Anything you want to say about your experience of the course?
Overall I must say I really enjoyed the experience of taking this class, and I am glad I registered for it despite not knowing what it really was. I think everything happens for a reason and I learned a lot in taking this course and I feel like I learned some really key things about being a writer that I will carry with me forever. Such as using details to describe people places and things instead of just coming out and saying it, and I never realized it before this course but that is what all good authors do. I think I have learned to apply this well and my writing has improved greatly from the beginning of this course to the end and as I said I will carry the things I learned with me about writing in this class for the rest of my life, which I more than I can say about most of the English classes I’ve taken at this university.Thank you.
Monday, December 7, 2009
presentation summary
The Fourth River
About the Fourth River
The Fourth River welcomes submissions of creative writing that explore the relationship between humans and their environments, both natural and built, urban, rural or wild. We are looking for writings that are richly situated at the confluence of place, space and identity, or that reflect upon or make use of landscape and place in new ways. Nature and environmental writing that is edgy and provocative, that goes beyond traditional nature writing, and contributes to a new type of place-based writing has the best chance of finding a home in our journal.
Pittsburgh is situated at the confluence of three rivers: the Monongahela, Allegheny, and Ohio. A fourth underground river, unseeable but indispensable to the city’s riverine ecosystem, is one muse for our journal. As our founding editor, Jeffrey Thomson, wrote in first issue of The Fourth River, we are inspired by the notion that “between and beneath the visible framework of the human world and the built environment, there exist deeper currents of force and meaning supporting the very structure of that world."
Our second muse is Rachel Carson, Chatham’s most distinguished alum, who wrote, in “Design for Nature Writing”:
“... if we are true to the spirit of John Burroughs, or of Jeffries or Hudson or Thoreau, we are not imitators of them but—as they themselves were—we are pioneers in new areas of thought and knowledge. If we are true to them, we are the creators of a new type of literature as representative of our own day as was their own.”
Submissions
Contests
Our 2009 contests are now open for submissions (guidelines below).
Deadlines have passed for our two recent 2008 contests: The Fourth River Award for Poetry and The Fourth River Award for Creative Nonfiction. A big thanks to all who submitted. Winners will be chosen on March 31st, and announced on our website and in our newsletter soon thereafter.
Fourth River Award for Poetry 2009
Fourth River Award for Creative Nonfiction 2009
We are looking for poetry and creative nonfiction that capture the places—natural, built and imagined, urban, rural or wild—where humans and nature converge and collide.
First place winner in each category will be published in the Fourth River and will receive a $500 cash prize upon publication.
Contest judges to be announced.
Contest Guidelines
1. Submissions should be postmarked no later than October 15, 2009
2. Previously published works and works accepted for publication elsewhere are not eligible. Students, faculty and employees of Chatham University are not eligible.
3. Include a title page with your name, address, phone number and the title of your submission(s). Your name must not appear on the actual manuscript.
4. The reading fee is $5 for three poems or one essay (7,000 word maximum), and includes a copy of Issue 7. Please make checks payable to Chatham University. Multiple submissions are acceptable, but each submission must be accompanied by a reading fee. Manuscripts will not be returned.
(Please note: the reading fee does not apply to regular submissions.)
5. Send your submission, your reading fee and a self-addressed stamped envelope to:
The Fourth River
Chatham University
Woodland Road
Pittsburgh, PA 15232
Attention: Fourth River Award for (please insert genre here--Poetry or Nonfiction).
Submit Your Work
**Note: Submissions are now closed for both Issue 6 and the International Issue--no new submissions will be reviewed at this time. The International Issue is due for release in Fall 2009, and Issue 6 in Spring 2010.
The Fourth River will begin reading work for Issue 7 on August 1, 2009.
Submission Guidelines
In August, the Fourth River will be accepting nonfiction, short fiction, poetry, and young adult/children ’s writing (without illustration). Please send up to seven poems or up to 7,000 words of prose to the address below. Due to the volume of submissions we receive, we will recycle all the manuscripts we receive. Please do not send us your only copy.
No reading fee is required for submission to Issue 7. Accepted authors receive two contributor's copies of the journal.
* Include cover letter with name, address, phone number, email contact, and titles of enclosed work.
* All manuscripts must include a SASE for response to be considered.
* No e-mail submissions accepted.
* Kindly let us know if you are submitting simultaneously, and inform us if your work is accepted elsewhere.
* Reading Period (for standard issues): August 1 – February 15
Submission Address
The Fourth River
Chatham University
Woodland Road
Pittsburgh, PA 15232
About the Fourth River
The Fourth River welcomes submissions of creative writing that explore the relationship between humans and their environments, both natural and built, urban, rural or wild. We are looking for writings that are richly situated at the confluence of place, space and identity, or that reflect upon or make use of landscape and place in new ways. Nature and environmental writing that is edgy and provocative, that goes beyond traditional nature writing, and contributes to a new type of place-based writing has the best chance of finding a home in our journal.
Pittsburgh is situated at the confluence of three rivers: the Monongahela, Allegheny, and Ohio. A fourth underground river, unseeable but indispensable to the city’s riverine ecosystem, is one muse for our journal. As our founding editor, Jeffrey Thomson, wrote in first issue of The Fourth River, we are inspired by the notion that “between and beneath the visible framework of the human world and the built environment, there exist deeper currents of force and meaning supporting the very structure of that world."
Our second muse is Rachel Carson, Chatham’s most distinguished alum, who wrote, in “Design for Nature Writing”:
“... if we are true to the spirit of John Burroughs, or of Jeffries or Hudson or Thoreau, we are not imitators of them but—as they themselves were—we are pioneers in new areas of thought and knowledge. If we are true to them, we are the creators of a new type of literature as representative of our own day as was their own.”
Submissions
Contests
Our 2009 contests are now open for submissions (guidelines below).
Deadlines have passed for our two recent 2008 contests: The Fourth River Award for Poetry and The Fourth River Award for Creative Nonfiction. A big thanks to all who submitted. Winners will be chosen on March 31st, and announced on our website and in our newsletter soon thereafter.
Fourth River Award for Poetry 2009
Fourth River Award for Creative Nonfiction 2009
We are looking for poetry and creative nonfiction that capture the places—natural, built and imagined, urban, rural or wild—where humans and nature converge and collide.
First place winner in each category will be published in the Fourth River and will receive a $500 cash prize upon publication.
Contest judges to be announced.
Contest Guidelines
1. Submissions should be postmarked no later than October 15, 2009
2. Previously published works and works accepted for publication elsewhere are not eligible. Students, faculty and employees of Chatham University are not eligible.
3. Include a title page with your name, address, phone number and the title of your submission(s). Your name must not appear on the actual manuscript.
4. The reading fee is $5 for three poems or one essay (7,000 word maximum), and includes a copy of Issue 7. Please make checks payable to Chatham University. Multiple submissions are acceptable, but each submission must be accompanied by a reading fee. Manuscripts will not be returned.
(Please note: the reading fee does not apply to regular submissions.)
5. Send your submission, your reading fee and a self-addressed stamped envelope to:
The Fourth River
Chatham University
Woodland Road
Pittsburgh, PA 15232
Attention: Fourth River Award for (please insert genre here--Poetry or Nonfiction).
Submit Your Work
**Note: Submissions are now closed for both Issue 6 and the International Issue--no new submissions will be reviewed at this time. The International Issue is due for release in Fall 2009, and Issue 6 in Spring 2010.
The Fourth River will begin reading work for Issue 7 on August 1, 2009.
Submission Guidelines
In August, the Fourth River will be accepting nonfiction, short fiction, poetry, and young adult/children ’s writing (without illustration). Please send up to seven poems or up to 7,000 words of prose to the address below. Due to the volume of submissions we receive, we will recycle all the manuscripts we receive. Please do not send us your only copy.
No reading fee is required for submission to Issue 7. Accepted authors receive two contributor's copies of the journal.
* Include cover letter with name, address, phone number, email contact, and titles of enclosed work.
* All manuscripts must include a SASE for response to be considered.
* No e-mail submissions accepted.
* Kindly let us know if you are submitting simultaneously, and inform us if your work is accepted elsewhere.
* Reading Period (for standard issues): August 1 – February 15
Submission Address
The Fourth River
Chatham University
Woodland Road
Pittsburgh, PA 15232
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Essay 4
Asbury Park
By: Stephen Mesa
I park my car on the corner of Second Avenue about a block away from the beach and the boardwalk because now they have numbers on all the spots closer to the waterfront so you have to pay the meter in order to park there. It never used to be like this. I used to park here for free and I’m sure not going to pay to park here now so I park a little further, past Kingsley Street where the numbers stop and the parking is free and always available. This is my usual spot. Right in front a cozy little yellow house with white shutters. It would be perfect for a small family of four, except its abandoned and boarded up. I often wonder what happened to the tenants who lived here and fantasize about one day buying it for cheap, since it is condemned and fixing it up so I could raise my family a block away from the beach. But the yard of this house is full of big chunks of cement from the remains of a demolished building I assume and it wouldn’t be very forgiving for kids to play upon. Many of the houses in this area are in the same condition. The majority of them big old Victorian houses that look like they were probably gorgeous in their prime but now they are run down dilapidated and now abandoned or condemned and boarded up. Every couple houses though you come across one that was restored. They tend to all look the same. Big, beautiful, Victorian style architecture with pastel colored beams and shutters, plenty of flowers adorning the yard and a rainbow flag flying waving in front off the porch. They moved all moved here a couple years ago and started pumping money into the community, saying they’re gonna bring back the “glory days” of Asbury Park.
During these “glory days” they speak of it was thriving shore town. A merry go round on Kingsley Street, was one of the earliest attractions the city had to offer. It was called the Palace Amusement Complex and many wealthy Families from New York used to come spend their summer weekends in accompanying high rise hotels. Now, as I walk across Kingsley, there is no traffic to heed, and the light at the intersection just blinks yellow, instead of turning red and green like most lights do, since the street now doesn’t get nearly as many cars passing through as it used to and the amusement park and many of the accompanying hotels have long since been torn down,
I walk on the grass past the back of the Stone Pony. “Bruce Springsteen used to play here” they say. This is where he got is his big break, that’s the Stone Pony’s claim to fame. Now when you walk by, through the ever empty parking lot, all you can hear is dissonance blaring through the walls from the local punk rock bands playing inside. There’s always some sort of battle of the bands going on here, or a Motor head cover band playing inside while there’s five Harleys parked out front. The summer stage is still up, though it’s November. They have their “summer concert series” outside here in the back parking lot and they make sure that everybody is aware of it by putting signs, posters and billboards all over the city advertising it since it is one of the few things still going on in the city.
I cross Ocean Avenue, the board walk is my horizon. On the other side is the ocean. I can hear the waves crashing already from where I stand and as I draw nearer the board walk I hear the sound of a lone percussionist drumming cadences in hopes to draw some generosity from the hearts and pockets of the passers by. He is surprisingly talented for a kid with a Mohawk I think to myself as a man sits next to him on a bench shouting inaudible nonsense along with his music for some reason. The man has on tan, grease stained overalls. He has long grey stringy hair and a tired face with the expression of a sad pug and skin that resembled a used baseball glove. I would’ve dropped a dollar in the kid’s bucket if I wasn’t so intimidated by the obvious case of substance abuse induced dementia sitting next to him.
After examining the pair for a moment I turn my attention to the ocean in front of me. The sea is a cold color grey, mirroring the sky above. The storm had only passed this morning. I was hoping it would bring more significant sized swells than this. Disappointed by the conditions of the waves off the usual jetty I surf near, I decide to take a walk up and down the boardwalk and check some other spots in search of maybe a more appealing break.
To my right is what remains of the Casino that used to be one of the main attractions the city had to offer during its hay day. I could imagine it during the roaring 20’s as I’ve only seen it in pictures. Women with feathers in their short curly hair and pearls around their necks, long frilly dresses showing a little bit of leg at the bottom sitting next to their men with their pin stripped suits and matching hats, smoking cigars and gambling away their wealth. If only they knew what was to come next.
The great depression wasn’t kind to Asbury Park and the Casino was shut down along with many of the cities other attractions. Years later that they put a Skate park in the building, this was my first impression of it and why I first started coming to this place. But I only got to enjoy it for maybe a year before they shut it down and boarded up the building entirely, though they left some ride able remains of ramps inside and kids would break in through windows or pry off boards to get in and skate them.
Now a walkway through the old Casino building has been opened up, allowing the boardwalk to continue on into the neighboring town, a private community known as Ocean Grove, which had long since been blocked off to pedestrian traffic and the residents of Asbury. This opening of the walkway in 2005 was meant to kick-off the revitalization of the cities boardwalk and it was around that same time that many commercial plots along the boardwalk, that had long since been vacant, opened up as new restaurants, shops and attractions. It was right around this time that they installed the parking meters as well.
Adjacent to the casino, a new, high scale, Italian restaurant with maroon settings on the tables outside appears void of customers and a miserable young blonde hostess gives me an awkward smile as I pass by. The ice cream shop next door to it is closed for the off season but the next place I pass shows plenty of signs of life. It is The Empress Hotel, complete with a bar and lounge in the lobby and rainbow lights flashing along the side of it to draw attention.
As I continue up the boardwalk I begin to take notice to how very few people there are to keep me company, and there are even less people on the beach, probably because the weather is so inclement. I near the small water park just recently completed this year but already closed for the winter and a couple walks their dog past me. The one man wearing macro made jean shorts and the other has a receding hair line and a mustache. My opaque sunglasses disguise the fact that I am analyzing them. There are still several unoccupied retail spaces along the middle of the boardwalk and just on the other side of Ocean Avenue is the foundation for what were to be luxury condominiums that were never finished.
At the north end of the board walk, what used to be a Stewart’s and a Howard Johnson’s is now the Saltwater Beach Café. At least they left the uniquely shaped peaky roof, and orange spiral stair case that circles the building, making it a land mark of Asbury Park. Next to it are other famous structures that have endured through the times with the city such as the Wonder Bar. Painted on the building is the recognizable, grinning, cartoon character of Tillie, or as some call him “The Face of Asbury Park.”
Across a big open yard of grass stands the Berkley, One of The Cities oldest and most distinguished hotels. I remember first coming here as a youth to watch my favorite bands play in an annual concert series called the Warped Tour, in the parking lot of this hotel, before the concerts were relocated to a different venue that was not so Asbury Park. The Berkley was all the bands stayed the night. I still consult the flag perched atop the establishment to judge winds direction while surfing.
I am at the north end of the board walk now. Only one building separates me and this city from the wealthy private beach community of Loch Arbor on the other side. It is the Convention Hall, a staple structure and probably the cities most famous building. It’s a magnificent looking old brick, palatial looking monument really, a relic still standing testament to the rich cultural history of Asbury Park. In it is The Paramount Theatre where they used to hold plays and musicals. This weekend there is going to be roller derby apparently. As I am staring at the majestic building I hear a man playing blues guitar from inside. I watch his leathery looking fingers work the fret board as he sits on a bucket and pours his soul into the guitar. I am interrupted from my admiration by a homeless woman asking for change. She explains to me her name is Terry and she didn’t used to be homeless until her boyfriend pushed her in front of a train. Now she has a bad back and needs to get her fix, as she makes a smoking gesture with her hands. I give her a dollar and after another five minutes of rambling and her wishing blessing from God upon me we go our own ways. I turn around and walk through the open gates of the Convention Center but not before I look up at the side of the building to a sign that caught my attention. I chuckle to myself quietly as I read the words “Greetings from Asbury Park!”
By: Stephen Mesa
I park my car on the corner of Second Avenue about a block away from the beach and the boardwalk because now they have numbers on all the spots closer to the waterfront so you have to pay the meter in order to park there. It never used to be like this. I used to park here for free and I’m sure not going to pay to park here now so I park a little further, past Kingsley Street where the numbers stop and the parking is free and always available. This is my usual spot. Right in front a cozy little yellow house with white shutters. It would be perfect for a small family of four, except its abandoned and boarded up. I often wonder what happened to the tenants who lived here and fantasize about one day buying it for cheap, since it is condemned and fixing it up so I could raise my family a block away from the beach. But the yard of this house is full of big chunks of cement from the remains of a demolished building I assume and it wouldn’t be very forgiving for kids to play upon. Many of the houses in this area are in the same condition. The majority of them big old Victorian houses that look like they were probably gorgeous in their prime but now they are run down dilapidated and now abandoned or condemned and boarded up. Every couple houses though you come across one that was restored. They tend to all look the same. Big, beautiful, Victorian style architecture with pastel colored beams and shutters, plenty of flowers adorning the yard and a rainbow flag flying waving in front off the porch. They moved all moved here a couple years ago and started pumping money into the community, saying they’re gonna bring back the “glory days” of Asbury Park.
During these “glory days” they speak of it was thriving shore town. A merry go round on Kingsley Street, was one of the earliest attractions the city had to offer. It was called the Palace Amusement Complex and many wealthy Families from New York used to come spend their summer weekends in accompanying high rise hotels. Now, as I walk across Kingsley, there is no traffic to heed, and the light at the intersection just blinks yellow, instead of turning red and green like most lights do, since the street now doesn’t get nearly as many cars passing through as it used to and the amusement park and many of the accompanying hotels have long since been torn down,
I walk on the grass past the back of the Stone Pony. “Bruce Springsteen used to play here” they say. This is where he got is his big break, that’s the Stone Pony’s claim to fame. Now when you walk by, through the ever empty parking lot, all you can hear is dissonance blaring through the walls from the local punk rock bands playing inside. There’s always some sort of battle of the bands going on here, or a Motor head cover band playing inside while there’s five Harleys parked out front. The summer stage is still up, though it’s November. They have their “summer concert series” outside here in the back parking lot and they make sure that everybody is aware of it by putting signs, posters and billboards all over the city advertising it since it is one of the few things still going on in the city.
I cross Ocean Avenue, the board walk is my horizon. On the other side is the ocean. I can hear the waves crashing already from where I stand and as I draw nearer the board walk I hear the sound of a lone percussionist drumming cadences in hopes to draw some generosity from the hearts and pockets of the passers by. He is surprisingly talented for a kid with a Mohawk I think to myself as a man sits next to him on a bench shouting inaudible nonsense along with his music for some reason. The man has on tan, grease stained overalls. He has long grey stringy hair and a tired face with the expression of a sad pug and skin that resembled a used baseball glove. I would’ve dropped a dollar in the kid’s bucket if I wasn’t so intimidated by the obvious case of substance abuse induced dementia sitting next to him.
After examining the pair for a moment I turn my attention to the ocean in front of me. The sea is a cold color grey, mirroring the sky above. The storm had only passed this morning. I was hoping it would bring more significant sized swells than this. Disappointed by the conditions of the waves off the usual jetty I surf near, I decide to take a walk up and down the boardwalk and check some other spots in search of maybe a more appealing break.
To my right is what remains of the Casino that used to be one of the main attractions the city had to offer during its hay day. I could imagine it during the roaring 20’s as I’ve only seen it in pictures. Women with feathers in their short curly hair and pearls around their necks, long frilly dresses showing a little bit of leg at the bottom sitting next to their men with their pin stripped suits and matching hats, smoking cigars and gambling away their wealth. If only they knew what was to come next.
The great depression wasn’t kind to Asbury Park and the Casino was shut down along with many of the cities other attractions. Years later that they put a Skate park in the building, this was my first impression of it and why I first started coming to this place. But I only got to enjoy it for maybe a year before they shut it down and boarded up the building entirely, though they left some ride able remains of ramps inside and kids would break in through windows or pry off boards to get in and skate them.
Now a walkway through the old Casino building has been opened up, allowing the boardwalk to continue on into the neighboring town, a private community known as Ocean Grove, which had long since been blocked off to pedestrian traffic and the residents of Asbury. This opening of the walkway in 2005 was meant to kick-off the revitalization of the cities boardwalk and it was around that same time that many commercial plots along the boardwalk, that had long since been vacant, opened up as new restaurants, shops and attractions. It was right around this time that they installed the parking meters as well.
Adjacent to the casino, a new, high scale, Italian restaurant with maroon settings on the tables outside appears void of customers and a miserable young blonde hostess gives me an awkward smile as I pass by. The ice cream shop next door to it is closed for the off season but the next place I pass shows plenty of signs of life. It is The Empress Hotel, complete with a bar and lounge in the lobby and rainbow lights flashing along the side of it to draw attention.
As I continue up the boardwalk I begin to take notice to how very few people there are to keep me company, and there are even less people on the beach, probably because the weather is so inclement. I near the small water park just recently completed this year but already closed for the winter and a couple walks their dog past me. The one man wearing macro made jean shorts and the other has a receding hair line and a mustache. My opaque sunglasses disguise the fact that I am analyzing them. There are still several unoccupied retail spaces along the middle of the boardwalk and just on the other side of Ocean Avenue is the foundation for what were to be luxury condominiums that were never finished.
At the north end of the board walk, what used to be a Stewart’s and a Howard Johnson’s is now the Saltwater Beach Café. At least they left the uniquely shaped peaky roof, and orange spiral stair case that circles the building, making it a land mark of Asbury Park. Next to it are other famous structures that have endured through the times with the city such as the Wonder Bar. Painted on the building is the recognizable, grinning, cartoon character of Tillie, or as some call him “The Face of Asbury Park.”
Across a big open yard of grass stands the Berkley, One of The Cities oldest and most distinguished hotels. I remember first coming here as a youth to watch my favorite bands play in an annual concert series called the Warped Tour, in the parking lot of this hotel, before the concerts were relocated to a different venue that was not so Asbury Park. The Berkley was all the bands stayed the night. I still consult the flag perched atop the establishment to judge winds direction while surfing.
I am at the north end of the board walk now. Only one building separates me and this city from the wealthy private beach community of Loch Arbor on the other side. It is the Convention Hall, a staple structure and probably the cities most famous building. It’s a magnificent looking old brick, palatial looking monument really, a relic still standing testament to the rich cultural history of Asbury Park. In it is The Paramount Theatre where they used to hold plays and musicals. This weekend there is going to be roller derby apparently. As I am staring at the majestic building I hear a man playing blues guitar from inside. I watch his leathery looking fingers work the fret board as he sits on a bucket and pours his soul into the guitar. I am interrupted from my admiration by a homeless woman asking for change. She explains to me her name is Terry and she didn’t used to be homeless until her boyfriend pushed her in front of a train. Now she has a bad back and needs to get her fix, as she makes a smoking gesture with her hands. I give her a dollar and after another five minutes of rambling and her wishing blessing from God upon me we go our own ways. I turn around and walk through the open gates of the Convention Center but not before I look up at the side of the building to a sign that caught my attention. I chuckle to myself quietly as I read the words “Greetings from Asbury Park!”
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Blog 18 describe a place and make a point without saying it
The sun is shining. I walk up through the green and flowery dunes to see the oceans waves are big, clean and peeling perfectly right off the pier.
The beach is uncrowded except for a couple other surfers. Tucked away behind mansions in a little shore town that nobody really knows about besides the rich inhabitants of these estates from that are never even at these palatial homes with the exception of a few summers out of the summer. The ocean a clear greenish color. A secluded paradise in New Jersey, all to myself and my friends behind the vacant summer homes of rich Syrian Jewish doctors, accountants and investment bankers from new york. I park my car and get changed in front of a huge house that must cost millions of dollars. There are no cars in the drive way. You see more Mexicans mowing lawns in the neighborhood than people actually living in it. I grab my surfboard run onto the beach, passing a sign that reads "cation unprotected beach, no lifeguards, no swimming" and I go and enjoy the peace of an empty beach and vast ocean all to myself as the sun is rising and the waves are breaking, I wonder what that same sunrise looks like from an office building in the city.
The beach is uncrowded except for a couple other surfers. Tucked away behind mansions in a little shore town that nobody really knows about besides the rich inhabitants of these estates from that are never even at these palatial homes with the exception of a few summers out of the summer. The ocean a clear greenish color. A secluded paradise in New Jersey, all to myself and my friends behind the vacant summer homes of rich Syrian Jewish doctors, accountants and investment bankers from new york. I park my car and get changed in front of a huge house that must cost millions of dollars. There are no cars in the drive way. You see more Mexicans mowing lawns in the neighborhood than people actually living in it. I grab my surfboard run onto the beach, passing a sign that reads "cation unprotected beach, no lifeguards, no swimming" and I go and enjoy the peace of an empty beach and vast ocean all to myself as the sun is rising and the waves are breaking, I wonder what that same sunrise looks like from an office building in the city.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Blog 17- Draft essay 3- objected oriented cnf
MY SKATEBOARD
My skateboard is my best friend. Better than that my skateboard is like my girlfriend. No, my skateboard is my companion. There it is. There is the right word, for it is always there to keep me company. When I am feeling lonely, it is my skateboard that I call upon to spend the day with. When it is a nice day out, we go down to the park and pass the time together. I always have fun with my skateboard. When I am on it I forget about everything. It helps me get away. My mind just goes blank for a couple of hours and the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders as I rest my weight on it.
My skateboard is always with me. It has been ever since I was 5 years old and was first introduced to it. Though others may come and go, my skateboard is my life partner. It has always been there for me and I know it always will be. My skateboard will never leave me for another guy, or start doing drugs and going to parties with pretentious hipsters in New Brunswick and stop calling me because it thinks it is too cool for me now. A skateboard never has plans. He is always down to do whatever I'm doing and go wherever I'm going.
In fact my skateboard doesnt have to call. Its cool, we just have that sort of relationship where I know its always there. Its at the foot of my bed as I sleep at night, and in the passenger seat of my car when I am driving. It gives me a ride to class, so I never have to walk on my bad ankle when I am on campus. On a rainy day, if a professor sees me around without my skateboard they always make an inquiry as to where it is because I am seldom seen without it.
It has become a part of me, a part of my identity. I'm that kid in class with the skateboard. In fact I'm sure those of you in class who may read this may not even recognize my face or my name but could tell who wrote this as soon as you saw the title because I always have my skateboard with me.
My skateboard has never done anything bad to me. It has never lied to me or hurt me. Sure some say things like, when you fall doesn't it hurt? Indeed it does, but that is not the skateboards fault. It is my own. Most of the time because I am trying to go beyond my or the skateboards limits.
Sometimes I may even break my skateboard, but it forgives me. I get a new one and get used to it and we are happy together once again.
I know you may think that this is silly and some may not be able to understand how I could have such a strong bond with an inanimate object but most of you have probably never skateboarded. Who needs friends, as long as I have my skateboard I shall never have to go through this life alone and I know it will always be there by my side, which is more than I can say for any human being I have ever met.
My skateboard is my best friend. Better than that my skateboard is like my girlfriend. No, my skateboard is my companion. There it is. There is the right word, for it is always there to keep me company. When I am feeling lonely, it is my skateboard that I call upon to spend the day with. When it is a nice day out, we go down to the park and pass the time together. I always have fun with my skateboard. When I am on it I forget about everything. It helps me get away. My mind just goes blank for a couple of hours and the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders as I rest my weight on it.
My skateboard is always with me. It has been ever since I was 5 years old and was first introduced to it. Though others may come and go, my skateboard is my life partner. It has always been there for me and I know it always will be. My skateboard will never leave me for another guy, or start doing drugs and going to parties with pretentious hipsters in New Brunswick and stop calling me because it thinks it is too cool for me now. A skateboard never has plans. He is always down to do whatever I'm doing and go wherever I'm going.
In fact my skateboard doesnt have to call. Its cool, we just have that sort of relationship where I know its always there. Its at the foot of my bed as I sleep at night, and in the passenger seat of my car when I am driving. It gives me a ride to class, so I never have to walk on my bad ankle when I am on campus. On a rainy day, if a professor sees me around without my skateboard they always make an inquiry as to where it is because I am seldom seen without it.
It has become a part of me, a part of my identity. I'm that kid in class with the skateboard. In fact I'm sure those of you in class who may read this may not even recognize my face or my name but could tell who wrote this as soon as you saw the title because I always have my skateboard with me.
My skateboard has never done anything bad to me. It has never lied to me or hurt me. Sure some say things like, when you fall doesn't it hurt? Indeed it does, but that is not the skateboards fault. It is my own. Most of the time because I am trying to go beyond my or the skateboards limits.
Sometimes I may even break my skateboard, but it forgives me. I get a new one and get used to it and we are happy together once again.
I know you may think that this is silly and some may not be able to understand how I could have such a strong bond with an inanimate object but most of you have probably never skateboarded. Who needs friends, as long as I have my skateboard I shall never have to go through this life alone and I know it will always be there by my side, which is more than I can say for any human being I have ever met.
Blog 16- Proposed focus for object oriented cnf
At first i was thinking about writing about the ocean, but nothing that good was coming to me, then i was going to write about a tattoo/ cd story, but the story was someone else and not mine and i dont feel i could really tell it well from a third person perspective without losing alot of the emotion. I was having alot of trouble with this until it just recently hit me. I am going to write about my closest companion... my skateboard. For my skateboard is almost always with me and is sort of like my life partner as others come and go. it is definitely the inanimate object that i have the strongest bond with so i am going to write my story about that. may seem stupid but hopefully through my examples it wont seem so and people will understand. Any feed back is appreciated
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