Published! ...I think

By Murissa Shalapata

"What's the occasion today or just celebrating the nice weather?" The waitress asked my boyfriend and I as we quickly finished our margaritas on the warm sun deck.

"I've been published." I calmly bragged to the waitress.

However, when we arrived at the gallery for the launch of this magazine, no one was there.

We asked the surrounding people, some of which were there to practice chanting in behind our gallery. No one knew of the magazine. We waited until 7:30 pm and finally a few girls arrived to set up free chips and pop. They set up the chairs in front of a small exhibit that was being held, which consisted of giant flowers pinned to the wall with stems that suspiciously looked like genitalia. In front of this I was to read my Jack Kerouack-esque poem.

Below is the Exhibit at the Alternator Gallery by Jihee Min

I was handed a small booklet filled with poetry and short stories. These folded pieces of paper were my published magazine. I blushed as my dad went over and bought 30 copies of something even he knew he could not send to family after bragging of a substantial, REAL magazine. We took a seat and nonetheless enjoyed some very entertaining readers, the majority of whom were the creators of this chap book. Their voices persevered over the African like chanting, almost complemented them at times.

 I didn't want to read, not over the musical tones that were humming and hawing behind the gallery walls. The chants would surely over ride my tiny voice. I was forced to, however, after I stupidly asked one of the accomplished readers to give life to my poem that required a certain jazziness. She turned on me and made me get up there as everyone watched, including my family and boyfriend...how could I say no?

I did it. I barely remember how I did. But even though I am not officially published in a magazine you may know, I did read. I chipped away a small portion of my largest

fear.

"How many poems did you have to choose from to arrive at your final selections?" My mom tried to find out how 'good' my poem may be.

"Sixty." The accomplished reader replied.

 "Well, that's something I guess." I commented in my head.

Stay Tuned in June as I will write about my experiences in Italy!

I am going there for a month for an Art History course.

Any suggestions on some travel novels to read?