From The Archives: Letter to Marcus Theatres


I originally mailed this letter off to the corporate headquarters of Marcus Theatres on February 14, 2014. I included my home address with the letter but never received a response (probably for good reason). It was in response to an advertisement they played before every movie, one they have since removed and replaced.


Dear Marcus Theatres,


There was something about your advertisement, nestled after the previews and before the feature film, that seized hold of my attention. My head was locked into place; my eyes were pried open, directed solely at the screen as that wondrous spot of theatre shimmied its way into the deep recesses of my brain…


…and my heart.


I’ve seen it at least once a week, and like clockwork, the same performance grapples me snugly, like a plummeting Gotham-ite clutched tightly by the Batman amidst a free-fall from Gotham’s tallest clock tower. Like Hooper, submerged in that cage in Jaws, my world was rocked. Shattered. Split in ‘twain from Sir Robin of Locksley’s arrow. Nestled in those comfy theater seats, it was as if I were a fair maiden on Ryan Gosling’s couch.


But I’m not. I’m a man. Rugged. Testosterone-fueled. I eat my fried chicken with my fingers, and I’m heavily Reptilian-brained, like any filmgoer raised during the height of 80’s action cinema. And even I, this hardened, steroid-raging meathead, was sold on a Magical Movie Rewards Card.

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The Chap Book



The Chap Book was born out of a joke at last year’s AWP in Seattle. It was my first time attending the literature convention, and it was my first time hearing about “chapbooks,” which came off as a very lucrative enterprise.

(For those who don’t know, a chapbook is traditionally a small collection of prose/poetry/fiction that showcases a writer’s or a magazine’s talents. They’re tiny, compact, and usually enthralling.)

Everybody had a chapbook, and I truly mean everybody. Each writer I met and each table I stopped by, there was someone sitting there, hands hovering over teeny, tiny books, ready to dish one out in exchange for a few bucks.  Continue reading