The Spring 2010, 25th anniversary issue of Boulevard is now avaliable!

With a special music theme, the issue features writers and editors from THE NEW YORKER, SPIN,
 ROLLING STONE and JAZZ TIMES.

Other contributors in this issue include award-winning writers such as Albert Goldbarth, Billy Collins, David Kirby, Carl Phillips, David Lehman, Alice Hoffman, Stephen Dixon, Floyd Skloot, Madison Smartt Bell and Marvin Bell. (…and this chick no one has ever heard of named Maya Sloan…and she’s completely thrilled!  Thank you, Richard Burgin!)


PS  The story, “Agape” is about the hardcore fundamentalist youth movement, specifically Christian rock groupies (yeah, they really exist…I’ve actually met them!)…the best part was making up some of those freaky Christian rock lyrics.

Excerpt from Agape:

Page 1:

The day of Pastor Rick’s appointment as head of the Youth Action Group of the Blood of the Lamb First Baptist Church in Duncan, Oklahoma, he looked at us for a long time before he spoke.  The first thing Tiff and I noticed was that he was handsome, and the second thing was the edge of a tattoo peeking from the sleeve of his crisp, button-up shirt.  That was enough to get our attention.  Pastor Rick cleared his throat.  He said, “I have been a sinner and a heathen.  I have ingested mind-altering substances.  I have fornicated with many women.  I have been to jail.  I have hurt other people, hurt myself, and most of all, hurt the Lord with my irresponsible, selfish, misguided actions.  But Jesus never stopped loving me.  He saw it in his ever-loving heart to save me, to call me to the ministry.  He brought me Alicia Jo, my angel, the light of my life.  But mostly, he brought me all the way from Tulsa, gave me this opportunity to lead you guys.  And what I want to know is this.”  He smiled at us.  “What do ya’ll want to talk about?”  Then Robert, the rebel of the group, the guy who wore a Jim Morrison t-shirt on our youth group camping trip, said, his voice low and his eyes focused on the pea-green shag carpet of the Bible study meeting room, “Sex.”

“Okay,” said Pastor Rick.  “Then let’s get to it.”

Excerpt from page 15:

We were so close I could touch the stage.  Our bodies were smushed into the bodies of people next to us, and the lights were so hot I could feel the beads of sweat on my forehead.  Then the lights flickered and I gripped Tiff’s hand and the speakers screeched.  Suddenly Bradley Ranchuck strode across the stage.  He stopped right above me, still as a statue, his guitar hanging by a strap and his arms spread wide to us as if he was Jesus on the cross. Then the music exploded, loud and throbbing.  Bradley whipped his hair across his face, stepped forward, and said, “We are all here for one reason.”  The crowd screamed.  “We are all here for one man.  And his name is Jesus Christ.” The crowd roared and pushed into me from both sides and the back, and Bradley opened his mouth and let free that first note – that perfect, pure, Godly note.  Then he sang:

Raise me up, Jesus
Higher than I could ever go
‘Cause I’m unworthy
With all those things I know
All those things I know
All those things I shouldn’t a done
That touch that burned me deep
You are God’s one and only son
Jesus
Salve this cut that never heals

“Sing with me,” he said, and we raised our arms and all our voices lifted together with the chorus:

I won’t go down with those demons
No way,
I won’t go down with those demons
‘cause I’ve been saved
I won’t go down
I won’t go down
I won’t go down

TwitterShare