Denise Sullivan

Author, Arts & Cultural Reporter and Worker

Litquake at 25

updated from a previous post on Litquake at 20

This week San Francisco’s literary festival, Litquake, celebrates 25 years of supporting writers, publishers, bookstores and the literary arts here in the Bay Area.

Running October 10-26, Litquake is the big event of the year for the Bay Area’s literary community. The mostly free readings and panels during Litquake and Litcrawl have become starting places for some of our writers and remain a testing and resting ground for those with more experience in need of a little recharge. These days, I mostly write about books, but when the festival rolls around, it’s a chance to remind myself, I too am a writer of books.

The festival’s co-founders, Jack Boulware and Jane Ganahl are my kind of people: Journalists and authors by trade, they dared to dream beyond the newsroom and share their love of the writing life with their immediate community. As their cohort of writers grew to include novelists, memoirists, biographers, sexperts, technologists and performance poets, the festival grew and grew, blossoming into its current incarnation as year round foundation and a 10+ day fest, culminating with an evening LItcrawl. Boulware and Ganahl have since stepped down as directors and as of this year, the organization welcomes its new director, Norah Piehl. Litquake is also powered by a small staff and tons of volunteers.

Though the years, I’ve been lucky to participate in the annual festival as a reader. Litquake has always been a place to try out new ideas and styles and as a writer I’ve test run biography, memoir and poetry, to get a feel for how the work sits with an audience of listeners. Litquake month has also served as a time of the year to create new work, to reset and reclaim one’s writing life, and affirm, that we are still readers and writers, no matter where the day or our lives may take us.

In more recent years, I’ve volunteer-organized and curated readings at Litquake in support of independent bookstores, particularly during San Francisco’s gentrification crisis. In 2014 we celebrated 55 years of Marcus Books. In 2015 and 2016, we honored the Mission District booksellers Modern Times Bookstore Collective, Alley Cat, Dog Eared and Adobe Books with standing-room-only events at the Make Out Room as fundraisers for Litquake and the grassroots United Booksellers (UBSF has since disbanded, but not before publishing a series of chapbooks, The City Is Already Speaking in collaboration with poet laureate Kim Shuck and featuring contributions by Tongo Eisen-Martin, Alejandro Murguía and other Bay Area poets). This year, the festival honors bookstores citywide at its opening night fundraiser, the Bookseller’s Ball. We are lucky to have so many bookstores here in San Francisco (my go-to is Bird & Beckett Books and Records). Despite digitization, the pandemic, extreme rent and operating costs (like insurance), San Francisco’s independent bookstores are strong and thriving.

It was at Bird and Beckett in 2019, that we hosted a full house for a comeback discussion with author David Talbot on Between Heaven and Hell: The Story of My Stroke, which he survived in 2017 and lived to write about. Talbot, a longtime supporter of independent booksellers and up and coming authors, has since survived a second stroke. You may offer financial support to him and his family by linking here.

As a literary community, I like to think we are mindful of supporting authors in need, as well as our elder writers and readers. For the last five years, I’ve been associated with Litquake as a teaching artist with The Elder Project, a community writing program offered to older adults. Facilitating these groups, meeting writers and hearing their stories has been an unexpected source of inspiration. The program continues to grow and each season we welcome new writers at all levels of their practice. It’s a great joy and privilege to carry on the work, conceived by poet, Jessie Scrimager Galloway, with our participants and my fellow teaching artists.

I had hoped to return to this year’s festival to read from my new book, Len Chandler: Shadow Dream Chaser of Rainbows, along with some as yet unpublished work. Due to a conflict, I will not be reading as scheduled, though I hope to find an alternative venue to test drive the new writings. Stay tuned to this space for updates and until then, I will see you at the festival. As always, thanks for reading and for your support of this webpage.

Filed under: Book news, California, San Francisco News, , , , ,

Double Duty

“Look, Ma!  I made the papers!” This week, I filed stories for my hometown’s two daily newspapers, The San Francisco Chronicle and The San Francisco Examiner. The milestone (or over-achievement) is significant to me because I have wanted to be a hometown reporter since at least since the age of nine and definitely since I was a teenager, editing my high school paper, though I fell into music journalism as a career. I’m pretty sure what my journalism teacher would have to say about making the move to cityside reporting, though he’s no longer here to say it, nor are my university media studies professors who sent me out into the world to work as an independent reporter, while finishing my senior year.

Honoring skateboarder Pablo Ramirez, who died on April 23. Photo by Kevin N. Hume for the Examiner.

I’m thinking of my own youth, age, and the cycle of life because it’s been a season of terrible losses for my communities and in the world; some have hit closer to home than others, but it was the death of 26-year-old skateboarder and musician, Pablo Ramirez, that really opened the floodgates of grieving for me (and in those moments, I tend to write).  Following his story to the top of Twin Peaks, I had the privilege of speaking to his mother, Loren Michelle, and learned more about his life. They are the subject of my column, SFLives, this week wherein I also tried to shed some love and light on The City’s beloved skateboard community.  I’m so grateful to have had the sense to follow my nose on this story, and for the photos by staff photographer Kevin Hume that accompany it, and especially to the Pablo Ramirez Foundation.

The piece for The Chronicle is about another San Franciscan,  Patrick Marks, a longtime Bay Area bookseller, who made the leap to opening his own store, The Green Arcade, at the same time online bookselling began to rise.  Ten years later, his business is alive and well, serving readers of all kinds, but particularly those who are eco-conscious or interested in utopian futures.  Anyone who reads me regularly knows about my interest in the preservation of small bookstores.  Covering Patrick and the Green Arcade was a chance to celebrate one of the best in the business. That it coincided with my return to the Chronicle Datebook section after a 20-year hiatus (I think the last story I wrote for them was about Soul Asylum hitting the charts), is an aside, but it’s a reason enough for me to celebrate: The Chronicle has been Northern California’s newspaper of record since 1865; it’s the paper I grew up reading.

Patrick Marks at The Green Arcade. Photo Michael Short, special to the Chronicle.

I see now that one of the things I was reminded of by following the story of Pablo, attending his memorial, speaking to his mother and stepfather and the people around them, was how important it is to pause. To breathe. To reflect on and appreciate what we have, to express gratitude for the people and the beauty and the love and the life and world around us — right now. I’m grateful to do work that I truly love. I appreciate not not only yours and others, but my own life. And I’m exhausted. Last night I filed a third story about legendary muralist Juana Alicia which will publish soon in the digital CurrentSF where I am also a frequent contributor (though I’m mostly there to compliment the images of award-winning San Francisco photographer, Ekey Kitpowsong).

My horoscope this week said I would be recognized for my work, particularly if I work in publishing. I shook my head like I do and laughed it off (while secretly hoping someone of power and influence, my own neighbor or maybe even my dog would take notice). And then I got it: Yesterday’s papers might be lining your trash bin, but I can still celebrate me and you and us today. Thank you to Pablo and Patrick and Juana Alicia for keeping me on my toes, inspiring me to stay in the game. “Life is beautiful.”

 

 

 

 

 

Filed under: Keep On Pushing, San Francisco News, What Makes A Legend, You Read It Here First, , , , , , , , , , , ,

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