Local Heroes owner Greg Thompson explains that, no, he is not a pornographer, but a good old-fashioned comic book store owner. And actually, no matter what you like to read, there’s a graphic novel to suit your taste.

Mama said the way to keep a diary was to write down the opposite of everything that happened, so she gave Jason a blank book so each night he could tell how all the boys played kick the cans until the boogeyman came.

Seven: “In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since: “Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone, just remember to whisper, otherwise you might be in for an ass whipping on a regular basis.”

With the taste of arsenic on my tongue, I’d fantasize of following one of these sirens down to the water’s edge. As she watches the water, I’d slide up silently behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other across her chest…

I don’t think I was alone in my temptation to throw an undergarment or two at Mr. Glass, as slick at storytelling as Elvis was at hip-swiveling.

The big arts and culture institutions in Norfolk are coming together in hopes of growing the scene. Here are some ideas they should consider implementing.

Two weeks of performance on The Tide, and art around it. Plus a deal on 50% off Tide tickets for opening night.

At Prince Books, our displays reflect what Hampton Roads is reading right now, not what is dictated by co-op money from publishers.

Or maybe that you are in a paperback bar, where the women
wear polka-dot dresses and the men take their hats off when they come
inside and everyone is alone. But it is not sad. It is slow.

AltDaily is working with the City of Norfolk Department of Cultural Affairs on a yet-untitled zine featuring four or more urban legends set in Norfolk.

“‘I saw Dad eating Mom in the dressing room. She’s long gone. In his belly.’ I point up to the wedding figures at the top of the cake. ‘He ate her up just like a toy.’”

I realized that’s what Keillor gives us–He gives us ourselves, our memories and our vintage tunes, reminiscing about days of cooling pies on windowsills, when kids could safely ride their bikes blocks away as long as they were home before the street lights came on, when young lovers listened to love songs on the radio and dreamed of kissing, nothing more.

Like to write, edit, and make an impact in your community? Check this out.

The hotel is leaking and the little girl thinks it’s funny to throw her glass of milk onto the carpet. At the check-in desk, two men shake hands – one of them is on fire. The deal has been made.

Written while between cars, hitching through Newport News.

Local writer Michal Mahgerefteh shares two poems with us. “Frozen in a Mask of Calm” and “The Childless”

“Collaborative Consumption describes the rapid explosion in traditional sharing, bartering, lending, trading, renting, gifting, and swapping redefined through technology and peer communities.” – Rachel Botsman

Lenin lifts a knife, parces a piece
in half. He who is hungriest
gets the biggest portion. The box
is satisfied with its emptiness.

A glimpse into Mike D’Orso and Ted Danson’s “OCEANA.”

burning like blind meteors
in empty nights where I kneel
sightless before my own stranger

How many chances do you get to watch someone create an entire fiction story from beginning to end? Mini-Comics Day is April 9th.

Grunwell gives the 2011 Darden Lecture in Education on April 6th at 7:30 p.m. at Old Dominion University.

Poems from the Park Place Child Life Center, and Mary’s story of following through.

The one who challenges the power of automobiles, standing boldly in street centers.

I believe that God loves each and everyone of us, good or bad.

A poem by celebrated Chesapeake native Joe Pineda.

Driving around. Monitoring the playground. Watching, for another example, essentially the same swimming lesson one has watched three times a week for the past two years.

X’ed Out, Revolver, Monsters, Duncan the Wonder Dog, and more from the owner of Norfolk’s Local Heroes.

“The bird departed, gone the way it had come, and the man, tiny and feeble under the immense valley sky, looked up in rage. What did it all mean?”

“From Ancient Ithaca to Norfolk, Virginia – Waiting for Her Sailor to Come Home”

“No one wins. One side just loses more slowly.” Lehane reads Friday as part of ODU’s literary festival.

When we forget what it’s like to be a child we have truly lost our joy, and McCoy seems in no danger of losing that emotion.

“The job of the travel writer is to find meaning that can bring the physical journey to life–to discern the characters, places, and events that will help it add up to a story.”

“I did it for the money,” said Bissinger, who was a reporter in Norfolk from 1977- 78. “Is it the best thing I’ve done in my life? No. Is it the worst? Yes. But sometimes writers do things for money.”

Rideau’s spent 44 years at one of the country’s most notorious prisons and detailed his experiences in his book, In the Place of Justice: A Story of Punishment and Deliverance.

Randall Kenan is reading as part of ODU’s Literary Festival today, Wednesday, Oct 6, at 4pm at the Village Bookstore.

“The better you get to know someone, the less likely you are to deplore their faults.”

“Writers are actually not the storytellers… The writers are the ones who fail to tell the joke well. They fail to tell the anecdote or story, and then they go home, and they spend three hours writing it and getting it right.”

Bonnie Jo Campell is reading at 2pm Monday at ODU as part of the 33rd Annual Literary Festival.

“On Franklin Street just off the by-pass, / equal distance between sound and ocean,”

“The whole purpose of a PhD and an iPad is to have something physical that you can show to people to prove you ARE better than them.”

” my scarecrow… / plays table board baseball in my memory: Garden Child, my mother’s swing-set /
is dark, waiting for the wind to slip its hand under its skirt.”

“How pride and sweat came / from laborers who were happy / to make the statue in his likeness”

She asks me too loudly why she’s seeing only /medicine cabinets — as if I can’t see them also.

“The five o’clock news foretold / mad haruspex in Green Run. / Cassandra pleading in a pant suit…”

“We don’t think language is a clear window through which the world can be presented. Or, if language is a window, we’ve learned that it’s best to examine the glass and the frame.”

Some helpful tips from author Sheila Kilpatrick.

ODU’s writing program–excuse my bias–is one to be reckoned with certainly on a regional level, and possibly also nationally.

“Poetry will always be the backbone of it all,” Giovanni said. “We continue to be part of the truth-telling, bringing out the best in people.”

The head of ODU’s creative writing program asks immense questions about being a self-taught poet, revelations in the Rockies, the writing process, and impossible pangs of the mind and heart.

Patrick Rothfuss will be reading at Prince Books in Norfolk on Friday and at Books A Million in VB on Saturday.

Sometimes it’s hard to believe the world existed before I arrived in it. Apparently, others who suffer from the belief are as ashamed of it as I. Life goes badly enough sooner or later that most lose faith.

Holly Wielkoszewski sits down with D’Orso to chat with him about his path to becoming a writer, what he finds inspirational, and “the big hurt” inside us all.

Tobias Wolff once said that “memory has its own story to tell.” Apparently, memoir does too, and Ben Yagoda proves to be skillful ghost writer.

Local Heroes’ Greg Thompson lists his top 25.

Holly from Prince Books talks about the brilliant authors, compelling histories, and captivating narratives that have forever changed the literary landscape in America.

Speaker, singer-songwriter, and author of Am I A Color Too? Nancy Vogl comes to Hampton Roads for tomorrow’s TEDxNASA at the Ferguson Center.

Me: You contemplated suicide at one point? Mary: At a few points. As I said, “suicide is an idea that seeps into your lungs like nerve gas.” It seemed like a good solution to all my problems. I thought, “death – now, there’s a one-stop shopping idea.”

The reason I’d say David Sedaris is a genius is not simply because he is one of the greatest humorists of our time, but because the source of his humor is so real and universal that both my mother and I get it, and we can both appreciate and love it for the same reason.

Funny how I end up leaving him on Independence Day, like the woman in that country song. But unlike some cheesy music video where I confront him and leave while he tries to stop me, I’m slinking off while he is out to sea. How can I do this?

Falling in love and composing a poem cover a lot of the same emotional ground: the experiences are both sensual; both animate the imagination; both often invoke doubt and insecurity; both are exhilarating, exhausting, and sometimes excruciating.

I don’t live like a normal human being; I live like Tony Montana in Scarface. As for my readers, I’m just happy they haven’t been deported yet.

“I opened the box from my publisher, saw my book, and bawled like a baby,” said recent ODU MFA grad Sarah McCoy about the culmination of the process.

This month’s Muse co-sponsored literature contest calls for creative non-fiction essays. The deadline is October 16. The guest editor is best-selling author Janine Latus.

The top four finalists of our Muse co-sponsored poetry contest.

“Laziness” by Jacob Wilson was chosen by guest editor Tim Seibles as the winner of our Muse co-sponsored poetry contest. Read all five finalists and details on our next lit contest–non-fiction essays, with guest judge Janine Latus.

The Muse and 24SevenCities announce a call for poetry submissions in a partnership to promote literature and celebration of the Seven Cities. Guest editor Tim Seibles will make the final selection of featured poetry.

Comic book store owner Greg Thompson compares Watchmen to Citizen Kane, and it’s not a good thing.

There’s bird shit on your head, said Shawn above him. Jason rubbed his hair quickly with both hands. Psych, said Shawn. What’s psych? It’s a lie. Jason looked at his hands. He squinted up at Shawn, who was descending the ladder now. Did the price go up? he asked. We ran out of that kind [...]