Le Salon Annex

Rekindled Romance, a review of Madame Vieux Carré

2012-01-20T09:18:00.000-08:00

My week startedoff badly. Sprinting to the phone, I sprained my right gastrocnemius and foundI could no longer stand or walk without assistance. As humbling an experienceas it was, I decided to accept it as an opportunity to slow down and spend sometime reading. I bought Madame Vieux Carré: The French Quarter of the Twentieth Century by Scott S. Ellis asa research book. I’m writing a novel set in the Quarter in 1961 and I thoughtthe book would be a good resource. Well, it certainly was, but it became somuch more for me.

While I havealways loved the French Quarter of my hometown, New Orleans, I found myselffalling more in love with her as I made my way through the pages of this book.Mr. Ellis did thorough research and even accounted personal experiences as aninhabitant of the neighborhood in the 1980s. As I hobbled back and forth oncrutches between reading, I contemplated my own aging. I was a denizen of the Vieux Carré when I was ages 20-23 inthe early 1990s. It was an impressionable time for me for many reasons and Ifelt emotionally safe in Madame’s world. One does not simply dwell in theFrench Quarter, one has a relationship with her. You become a character in herever-changing play.

This book is ascholarly work of history, including endnotes in accordance with the ChicagoManual of Style. However, it is endlessly accessible with moments of greathumor and eyewitness accounts. A large part of my affection for Madame VieuxCarré is my belief it was a labor of love. I do not know Mr. Ellispersonally nor professionally, but the author writes with such eloquence andhonesty, I make the assumption. Only several years shy of being three centuriesold, Madame wears her beauty well. While I live Uptown, I will in the days tocome be off of these crutches and once again visit the Vieux Carré. I will traverse her streets with a deeper love forknowing more of her secrets.

Madame Vieux Carré

Kristin Fouquet

January 20, 2012

O Discarded Tannenbaum

2012-01-06T07:33:00.001-08:00

Dancing With Myself at Sea Minor

2012-01-04T14:58:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, everybody!

After the wonderful AJ Hayes named my second book, Rampart & Toulouse, as one of his top 5 books

of 2011, the generous Nigel Bird offered me the opportunity to interview myself at Sea Minor.

Self-indulgent? Maybe, but I was so honored I couldn't refuse.

Ken Wohlrob gives a Wonderful Review to Rampart & Toulouse

2011-11-14T17:35:00.001-08:00

"Rampart & Toulouse" is bestowed a wonderful review by writer Ken Wohlrob. Here's a sample:

I’m not sure which came first: the photography or the writing. What I do know is that Kristin Fouquet’s love of photography infuses her storytelling. Her tales have that feel of old photographs you discover in a thrift store bin — you don’t know these people, but you can see their lives boiled down into that moment.

Read the rest of the review here: "Book of the Week: Rampart & Toulouse by Kristin Fouquet"

New Orleans Bookfair

2011-11-04T09:43:00.000-07:00

This Saturday, November 5th, I'll have a table at the New Orleans Bookfair at the corner of Frenchmen and Chartres Streets. I will be selling and signing my books, "Twenty Stories" and "Rampart & Toulouse," along with giving away some lagniappe- including microzines, "MUST" and "Durable Goods." It's supposed to be a beautiful day. If you're in town, please stop by and say "hi."http://nolabookfair.com/index.html

"Cleaning Up Death is Becoming Popular" by guest blogger, Caleb J. Ross

2011-10-24T15:25:00.000-07:00

I am thrilled to have guest blogger, Caleb J. Ross, here at Le Salon Annex. He is the writer of the wonderful collection of short stories Charactered Pieces, which I reviewed here and the terrific novel Stranger Will, reviewed here. Thanks, Caleb, for visiting my humble virtual abode and welcome.

Cleaning up death is becoming popular

This is a guest post by Caleb J Ross (also known as Caleb Ross, to people who hate Js) as part of his Stranger Will Tour for Strange blog tour. He will be guest-posting beginning with the release of his novel Stranger Will in March 2011 to the release of his second novel, I Didn’t Mean to Be Kevin and novella, As a Machine and Parts, in November 2011. If you have connections to a lit blog of any type, professional journal or personal site, please contact him. To be a groupie and follow this tour, subscribe to the Caleb J Ross blog RSS feed. Follow him on Twitter: @calebjross.com. Friend him on Facebook: Facebook.com/rosscaleb

Before Stranger Will, the only knowledge I had of human remains removal—and what would become the impetus to the novel—was a short posting in some forum about a professional crime scene cleaner which described the smell of a body, baked by the summer heat to a kitchen linoleum floor. I was just morbidly curious enough to turn that short image into a novel. This was back in 2000.

Jump ahead 10 years to Joshua Chaplinsky’s review of

The Dead Janitor’s Club: Pathetically True Tales of a Crime Scene Cleanup King by Jeff Klima, which contained the phrase “...there was a whole crop of books dedicated to the people who sop up the blood and bits of brain in the wake of heinous acts of violence.” Apparently, morbid curiosity had become more prevalent over the years. During drafting and re-drafting, all the way to the final version of the novel in 2010, I had researched appropriately, finding a few books on bioremediation, but never sensing a growing popularity of the subject matter. I must have been on lock-down or something. Seriously, look at this list:

Aftermath, Inc.: Cleaning Up After C.S.I. Goes Home by Gil Reavill (non-fiction), 2007

Mop Men: Inside the World Of Crime Scene Cleaners by Alan Emmins (non-fiction), 2009

The Dead Janitor’s Club: Pathetically True Tales of a Crime Scene Cleanup King by Jeff Klima (non-fiction), 2010
The Mystic Arts of Erasing All Signs of Death by Charlie Houston (novel), 2009
Sunshine Cleaning (movie), 2009

Love Like a Molotov Cocktail to the Chest by Scott C. Rogers (novel), 2010

Bioremediation: Principles and Applications by Ronald L. Crawford and Don L. Crawford (non-fiction), 2005

Bioremediation: Applied Microbial Solutions for Real-World Environment Cleanup by Ronald M. Atlas and Jim Philp (non-fiction), 2005

And that’s just a few. All published/released within 5 years. And don’t forget National Geographic’s Youtube series on crime scene cleaners. Investigation Discovery has one, too.

What is with the seemingly sudden (to me, anyway) popularity with bioremediation? I’m the type to look at most trends as reactions to cultural shifts. So, what has shifted within the culture? I understand the temptation, and ignorance, associated with commenting on one’s own culture, without any temporal distance, but I will: I bring it back to war, but more specifically, to the unfiltered access many civilians have to the deaths that occur as a result of war. We’ve always had wars, but we’ve never had Twitter, YouTube, Facebook, and 24-hour news cycles during a war. People see more and more death, so people get more and more interested in the practicalities of death. Mix that with a shift toward everything eco-friendly, and of course people are going to wonder how bodies disappear.

And in keeping with Kristin’s New Orleans feel, here’s a clip specifically addressing the humidity (re: quick decomposition) inherent in a Louisiana climate:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aZfD7Y47fdg&feature=related

Noir Exhibition at the New Orleans Photo Alliance

2011-09-26T15:35:00.001-07:00

I'm so excited to have two photographs, "Moonlight" and "On Keys," from my Nouveau Noir series in the Noir exhibition at the NOPA gallery. The opening reception is this Saturday, October 1st, from 6-9 pm. Come raise a glass with me.

Rampart & Toulouse is bestowed a great review from terrific writer Caleb J. Ross

2011-09-06T15:19:00.000-07:00

Caleb J. Ross reads Rampart & Toulouse (photo courtesy of C.J.R.)

I'm delighted by this lovely review of Rampart & Toulouse at Outsider Writers Collective and Press. Read all about it here: Kristin Fouquet's Rampart & Toulouse: a Novella and Other Stories.

6th Anniversary of the Storm

2011-08-29T17:31:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure why this year has hit me harder than the others. Perhaps, it is because my son, unborn at the time of the disaster, has started kindergarten. His difficulty in adjusting reminds me of my own vulnerability in the years 2005-2006. While slightly reluctant to share this personal story, I decided even though we move on, it's important to remember. This essay was first published in Mother Verse, Issue 5, January 2007.

Goodbye, My New Orleans

first published in Mother Verse, Issue #5

The television in the hospital waiting room was on but muted. A large red and orange graphic was swirling on the screen.

“Hurricane,” I said casually as I steered my toddler away from the vending machines.

My husband replied, “Yeah, It’s gonna hit the Florida panhandle.”

“Hmm,” I pondered before I was distracted by the calling of my name.

I was there for the five month ultrasound that would reveal the gender of my new child. My husband held our reluctant 20-month-old daughter in his lap as the doctor glided the wand over my full abdomen.

“Boy,” he said.

“You sure?” My husband, Errol, asked, containing his glee.

“Definitely a boy,” the doctor confirmed.

The rest of the day was busy as we happily bought “It’s a Boy” foil banners, baby blue balloons, and party supplies. The following day, we were going to have an ultrasound party for our family, concealing the big surprise until they arrived.

The next morning, I swept and mopped the floors, decorated the house, and put on a pretty maternity dress. Errol and I were about to prepare some finger foods, when the phone rang. It was his mother and she wanted to know if we were evacuating.

He put the television on and there it was again. The big red and orange swirling thing was in the Gulf of Mexico and heading right for New Orleans.

“Pack your bags,” he said after making reservations in Austin, Texas.

“But I don’t want to leave. I’m having a party today,” I whined.

“We can’t stay for a Category 5 Hurricane,” the voice of reason replied.

I knew he was right but my mind ventured back to the year before when we evacuated for Hurricane Ivan. It took us eighteen hours to drive to Austin in bumper to bumper traffic with our traumatized caged cat and our unhappy nine month old daughter. It was a costly and uncomfortable unplanned vacation. Errol’s company forced their employees to use vacation time for a hurricane that didn’t come.

“I don’t know what to take,” I said as if I had never done this before.

“Just enough things for four or five days,” Errol said.

It was hard to get packing. I stood under the baby blue balloons and ominously looked around the house. The walls were covered with priceless paintings my late father-in-law, Dimitri Fouquet, had painted. Would they be safe in the attic? I wondered. But what if the roof blows off? I felt helpless and strangely hopeless. I grabbed a bag and quickly filled it with baby books, photo albums, toys, plastic sippy cups, my daughter’s clothes and five maternity dresses. I put a large bag in my daughter’s room in front of her bookshelf.

“Zoë,” I said. “Fill this bag with the books you want to bring.”

I packed her favorite stuffed animals, the sheet on her crib, and her beloved blanket. When I turned around, the bag was overflowing with children’s books. I laughed.

“Okay. We’ll take all of these.”

As we pulled out of the driveway, I had a peculiar feeling while I studied the outside of the house. I wondered how the little garden in front that Zoë and I had planted would fare in the bad weather. It was August 27, 2005 and it would be the last time I saw my home.

The drive to Austin was not too bad. We had evacuated early so it took only twelve hours this time. However, our accommodations at the motel were not very comfortable, especially with a toddler. After a sleepless night, we packed up again and across town checked into a roomy suite equipped with a kitchen. In front of the television, we settled in to watch what Hurricane Katrina would do to our city.

It was a long wait. The hurricane did turn east but strong winds still pummeled New Orleans. We watched the television eagerly for the damage assessment. A phone call from my mother lifted our spirits. A cousin had stayed behind and drove around the neighborhoods. My grandparents’ house was fine and so was the house we were renting. Relief washed over us. All we had to do was sit tight a few more days until electricity could be restored, after that we could go home.

Then, the levees broke. Lake Pontchartrain poured into the city with an unstoppable force. Eighty percent of New Orleans was flooded. Our neighborhood was completely submerged underwater. The following hours were confused and emotional as we tried to contemplate the loss of absolutely everything. I tried to imagine all of our rooms filled with water. Cell phones with the 504 area code were not in service, so trying to stay in touch with other family members was impossible.

Our next move was to move again. Along with being homeless, the realization that Errol might not have a job anymore hit us, so we needed to find another place to stay. We checked into an Extended Stay America in North Austin for its inexpensive weekly rates. It would become our refuge for the next three weeks.

We saw the horrors of New Orleans unfolding on the television. For years, we had heard our elders talk of Hurricane Betsy like others talk of the boogie man. We had seen the old films of the flooded city. Those who rode out Betsy, a Category 3 hurricane, acquired a false sense of security that they could withstand any future ones. Despite all the scientific data that forecasted New Orleans to be underwater within fifty years, we lived in a naïve denial that it couldn’t happen, wouldn’t happen. But now it had.

Paralyzed in disbelief, we watched scores of people begging from rooftops to be rescued. Children separated from their mothers were being airlifted by helicopters. Footage from the Superdome and Convention Center was nightmarish and devastating. People without the means to evacuate were dying from dehydration, starvation, and lack of medicine. I looked around our meager room and felt guilty for feeling sorry for ourselves.

We were fortunate to have some diversions from the endless television drama. Errol had some friends who lived just North of Austin. We visited with them several times a week. Their two sons, ages 1 and 3, were great playmates for Zoë. Also, in the hotel was another couple from New Orleans we knew; they too had lost everything. She was six months pregnant with their first child. Other guests smiled at the two ladies with big bellies as they tried to pass us in the hallway. We visited with my aunt and uncle who live in San Antonio. We politely declined their invitation to have us stay with them. Everyone wanted to help; we felt vulnerable but proud.

Errol did accept a laptop on loan and started typing out a resume. His employer hadn’t made any decisions on who would be kept on, so Errol started sending his resume out everywhere. I was due to have a baby in early January and he needed a job with health benefits.

We lived in limbo but were starting to get some assistance. Errol’s company gave their employees $500. Their Denver office sent some clothes for Zoë and a $150 gift certificate to Wal-Mart. The Red Cross paid the hotel rate for the week. FEMA gave us $2,000.

Finally, with some breathing room in our checking account, we were able to buy some much needed clothes and sundries. We brought Zoë to a toy store to pick out a couple of things. My heart was heavy as she gravitated to toys she used to have. She gave a big stuffed panda bear a hug. Did she think it was her friend we had left behind?

“They’re only material things,” Errol said, responding to my teary eyes. “We’ll replace everything eventually.”

Back at the hotel, we were informed that The Red Cross was paying for us to stay another two weeks. That eased some of our fears. Errol was conducting phone interviews with companies in Houston, Dallas, New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco. As I held my napping daughter in the recliner, I just wished he would get something soon because I desperately wanted to get her back on a schedule. She had been unbelievably adaptable but she wanted to go home. So did we but it was not an option. I wondered where we’d end up.

New York and L.A. were the strongest possibilities. There were some decent offers, yet relocation and housing would have been quite challenging. Then, on Monday, September 12^th, Errol got a call from a recruiter working for a company in North Carolina. He was familiar with their product but it was a bit out of his field of expertise. After a couple of phone interviews and some negotiations, he got the job.

“What’s in North Carolina?” I asked.

“I guess we’ll find out,” he said.

On Saturday, September 17^th, we loaded up the car, tranquilized the cat, and we three headed out of Austin on a two day car trip which would end in Raleigh, North Carolina. It was bizarre moving to a city we had never been to before. All the reports were good: low crime, affordable housing, great schools. These were important things that New Orleans could not offer us at that moment, if ever.

The long trip was conducive to thought. I glanced over at my beautiful New Orleans girl. Images of her there came to me. It was bittersweet now to remember her raising her little arms to catch Mardi Gras beads. I recalled the joy of watching her dance so freely to the bands at French Quarter Fest and Jazz Fest. She ate spicy crawfish like a natural. Zoë might never remember her hometown.

I rubbed my belly and smiled at the quiver from within. He would be born in Raleigh, North Carolina. People often don’t understand that New Orleans isn’t just a place; it’s a living culture. I wanted so much to raise two New Orleans kids. I wanted them to grow up with the joie de vivre of my birthplace with its cuisine, customs, and nomenclature. I wanted that more than anything but it was out of my hands.

On my thirty-fifth birthday, September 18, 2005, we drove into Raleigh to begin a new life. The city possessed natural beauty but I longed for the familiar ancient architecture of New Orleans. We rented an older house that had some familiar features and set about buying everything all over again. All that shopping might seem fun to some but it was exhausting trying to reequip an entire household quickly. My relief was that Zoë settled in beautifully.

It was also a relief to not be in Texas, where so many other evacuees had gone. The media was calling us refugees. After arriving in Raleigh, we had lunch at a farmhouse restaurant. The waitress asked us where we were from. Before we paid our bill, the owner approached us with the offer of $500, a collection the employees had gotten together for Katrina victims. We were touched but asked if they would give it to a charity like Habitat for Humanity. Some of Errol’s coworkers were also generous in their offers. It was all very nice but we were ready to move away from our victim status and rebuild our lives on our own.

In October, Errol went back to New Orleans. He needed the closure and was hopeful to find anything salvageable in the wreckage. A few weeks prior, a friend of my mine had retrieved Dimitri’s paintings with the hope of restoration. The house was worse than Errol could have imagined. The numerous flies and the stench from the toxic mold were unbearable. The house had been filled with water close to the ceiling for three weeks before it finally drained.

Along with the paintings and a couple of Dimitri’s Zen ink drawings, Errol brought back some items that could be cleaned: one of my late father’s old pipes, a perfume bottle Dimitri had given me, hat pins, some cobalt glass items, and a few other things. Gone forever were vacation photos, love letters, and home movies. He showed me the photographs he’d taken inside the house. The refrigerator and television armoire were overturned. Furniture had floated into other rooms. The walls and everything in the entire house were covered in thick black mold. Eerily, the only things pristine were the “It’s a Boy” foil banners and the baby blue balloons, still inflated.

Thanksgiving, Zoë’s second birthday, and Christmas came and were celebrated considerably less without family or friends. As grateful as we were for our new life, an intense homesickness tainted our good fortune. Errol and I stopped talking about New Orleans but we both knew the other was pining to go home. It was simply understood that it was something that had to happen.

After months of anxiety and worry that this disaster would have a negative impact on my baby; our son, Jean Dimitri, was born. He arrived on January 6^th, 2006 and scored a perfect 10 Apgar. The 6^th of January is King’s Day, the first official day of the carnival season in New Orleans, a time of great excitement and energy for the locals. For the rest of the United States, the holiday season pretty much ends with New Year’s Day. For New Orleanians, it’s just the beginning of Mardi Gras followed by French Quarter Fest and Jazz Fest. I plan on baking Jean king cakes for his birthdays instead of traditional birthday cakes.

Two months quickly flew by with the nursing and care of a newborn. In March, Errol got a call from his previous employer in New Orleans. They were looking for someone to fill a position that was essentially his old job. He was eager and started negotiations. Things were positive and we were really hopeful to return home. We were pricing houses to purchase in New Orleans online and talking to family and friends about moving back. Then, bluntly, Errol was told his requirements could not be met. A deep depression engulfed us.

Frightened for my children, I pulled myself together and told Errol that we couldn’t live in this kind of purgatory. He had a great job and we needed to really give this place a chance. In April, we bought our first house in Cary, North Carolina. It’s bigger and more comfortable than anywhere we’ve lived in our decade together. Although Errol and I still battle with homesickness almost daily, settling down and accepting our fate was the most positive thing we could do for our kids.

So, on this anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, I watch my seven-month-old son crawl for the first time, confirming that life does indeed move on. I know that I would have never left New Orleans voluntarily. That decision was made by that mother controlling us all, Mother Nature. Our friends say we’ll be back, that the city’s in our blood. A friend’s quote comes to mind, “You can take the girl out of New Orleans but you can’t take New Orleans out of the girl.”

But for now, I must say “goodbye” to my New Orleans because it isn’t there anymore. Neighborhoods in that city where I hold fond memories no longer exist. I don’t know what the new New Orleans is becoming, that’s up to the people who are there and who are rebuilding it. We’ll all wait and see.

I realize that we are the lucky ones. There are many victims who simply don’t have the resources that we have to build a new life. There are people who lost family members. There are families involuntarily dispersed all over the country. FEMA has just cut off electricity to Hurricane victims in Houston. Whatever aid there was is clearly running out.

We left with our lives and were able to build new ones. The important things were saved. Dimitri’s paintings are now at The North Carolina Museum of Art. The conservator for the museum is in the long and costly process of restoring them. I’m pleased to know that they will be our children’s legacy.

Naturally, material items are remembered before a sigh and the word “lost” is murmured. The irreplaceable things were love letters written by Errol to me and numerous photographs. However, the most invaluable thing lost is intangible. We lost our culture. In New Orleans, most people never leave; families are close and come together often to celebrate just about anything. We miss our families. We miss our friends. In the past year, we’ve had many visitors and we are grateful for that but it’s bittersweet.

We live our lives in a strange vacuum, trying to preserve old customs and traditions. For Mardi Gras 2006 in exile, I dressed my kids up in costumes and threw plastic beads to them. It amused them but I felt hollow. Many people thought Mardi Gras shouldn’t have happened this year but I wished I could have been there. Of all years, this one needed to be celebrated. In many parts of the world, making fun of death is universally funny. Mardi Gras is a grand satire where a false royalty reigns over the city and people gladly adopt a suspension of disbelief as they covet the plastic baubles being thrown at them as if they were truly priceless treasures. This year, New Orleanians desperately deserved the important catharsis of poking fun at Katrina and FEMA. It was the ultimate mental health day.

In New Orleans, people come together, friends and strangers alike for customs and festivals. In other parts of the country, people talk of the unexplained smiles strangers share around Christmastime. It is like that in New Orleans year round for locals. We embrace each other. Of course the ugly side of human nature shows itself sometimes but when you’re standing on a street during Mardi Gras and you and the stranger next to you both catch a loot of beads together, you gladly split it.

You feel the love in New Orleans during the most mundane tasks. It might just be a Southern thing but people talk so wonderfully familiar with each other. At the grocery checkout, the cashier might say, “’Zat all you need, Baby?” or “Thank ya, Sugar.” Catching a streetcar, someone might allow you to board first by saying, “Go head, Darlin’.” The family being such a valued institution there, you’ll often hear the question, “How’s ya momma and ‘dem.” I miss that warmth.

There’s no other place like it in the world but I’m afraid that that New Orleans isn’t there anymore. People are struggling there, many in despair. We were deeply saddened to find out that Zoë’s pediatrician committed suicide shortly after Katrina. His Uptown home and practice were damaged but salvageable. However, his patients didn’t return to the city, a fact he could not bear.

With an inflated real estate market, few jobs paying a livable wage, a worsened education system, inadequate healthcare, and rising crime plaguing the city, who wants to go back? If our children’s welfare was not such a priority, we would. Ultimately, I wonder how many of New Orleans’ children, of all ages, will and can come marching home. I wonder if we will want to be in that number.

***

Kristin Fouquet and her family returned to New Orleans in May of 2007.

Academia Posmoderna de Letras

2011-08-25T11:15:00.000-07:00

I am thrilled! The amazing and generous Beto Palaio has featured three of my photo essays, "Transitory Treasure," "Graffiti's Gray Area," and "Above Ground" at his lovely blog, Academia Postmoderna de Letras.

Muito obrigado, Beto!

"Rampart & Toulouse" Released!

2011-08-13T09:21:00.000-07:00

Happy day! My second book, "Rampart & Toulouse" a novella and other stories, is released today. Free worldwide shipping. Many thanks to all who have ordered a copy. Cheers!

View the book trailer and order here.

Rampart & Toulouse, a novella and other stories

2011-08-02T07:10:00.000-07:00

My second book, Rampart & Toulouse, a novella and other stories will be released on August 13th, but pre-orders are being accepted now. See the book trailer on the book page here. Thanks for the interest!

Blink/Ink Issue #7 is Out!

2011-07-18T06:10:00.000-07:00

Cover shot by Kristin Fouquet Blink Ink #7 is here! Barr Bielinski, Randall D. Brown, Ashley Dean, Sarah Fiete, Amanda Gowin, Nick Johns, Peter LaBerge, Shea Newton, Robin Stratton, Susan tepper, Richard Thomas, Stephanie Thurrot, JJ Toner, Dale Wisely, Jim Wittenberg. www.blink-ink.com. Subscribe/Submit/Inquire.

Revisiting Tragedy, a book review

2011-07-03T09:43:00.000-07:00

While all book reviews are a matter of opinion, some subject matter is more personal for certain readers than others. James Lee Burke’s novel The Tin Roof Blowdown brought back one of the most tragic experiences of my life. I confess I have bypassed most books concerning or having Hurricane Katrina as a backdrop. The memory strikes like a raw nerve being hit repeatedly by a dentist’s drill. Some heartache never completely heals; we simply learn to live with it. The optimist in me wants to believe the major tragedies in people’s lives will be the zenith of suffering for them and they will live the rest of their days with renewed reward. However, life is not always so just. When many were beginning to comprehend the effects of Hurricane Katrina, Hurricane Rita arrived, adding to the destruction and loss in the region.

In my hometown New Orleans, throughout Louisiana, and along the Gulf Coast, we all suffered in some capacity. Visitors to our region, who understand and appreciate our culture felt the pain. Worldwide, people extended their generosity. I have noticed many victims try not to measure their pain against others of the same tragedy; they seem to only nod in empathy. It is a silent understanding.

When a friend recommended The Tin Roof Blowdown, my immediate reaction was anxiety. I had heard of it along with a list of other post-Katrina titles. I decided to exert some bravery, knowing full well the emotions would resurface. It is a well-constructed crime novel. While I think there were a couple of inaccuracies in the book, overall, Burke conveys the climate of the aftermath with striking detail without being overindulgent. His characters are strong. The menacing character, Ronald Bledsoe, is as creepy and tenacious as Max Cady from Cape Fear, but lacking the charm. My biggest flaw with this novel was a recurring first-person omniscience from protagonist and sometime narrator, Dave Robicheaux. I concede this is my first time reading Burke and his loyal readers must be accustomed to his style, but I found it a bit jarring to read a beautifully detailed first-hand account of a scene in which the character was nowhere near. I found myself asking, “How did he know?”

Halfway through reading, I knew I had an impending vacation to Florida. I confess I was hoping to finish this novel so I could bring some lighter fare to the beach. A bit of fluff among the sun, sand, and surf seemed relaxing. A pressing project commanded my attention and prevented me from completing the book before my trip. Yet, as I held The Tin Roof Blowdown in the salt air and gazed over to the Gulf of Mexico, I was grateful. I thought about the progress that has been made in New Orleans and the region since August 2005. I thought of BP’s rape of the waters in front of me, but thankful so much sea life had returned. I wondered about the next unknown challenge. I felt an overwhelming pride for our endurance and resiliency. I realized the book in my hands, for me, was the perfect beach read.

copyright 2011 Kristin Fouquet

Beat the Dust, June edition

2011-06-24T12:22:00.000-07:00

I'm delighted to have three photographs in Beat the Dust, June 2011 issue, alongside some great fiction and poignant poetry.

Enjoy the online version here: Beat The Dust, June 2011

or print a copy here: Beat the Dust, June 2011 Chap-book

Many thanks to Melissa Mann.

Short Story America Anthology, Volume 1

2011-06-24T06:09:00.001-07:00

I've just received my copy and the book is really beautiful.

It is a hardcover with dust jacket, 56 stories, 544 pages.

I'm excited to have my Pushcart nominated story, "Varietals,"

included in an anthology with such wonderful short fiction.

http://www.shortstoryamerica.com/

Midnight Rendezvous, a music video

2011-06-12T18:19:00.001-07:00

I am so happy to have completed my first music video, "Midnight Rendezvous," for the wonderful Ingrid Lucia. Enjoy! Click here.

A Question for Existence: a review of Stranger Will by Caleb J. Ross

2011-05-30T07:31:00.000-07:00

Having loved Ross’ collection of short stories, Charactered Pieces, I greatly anticipated reading his first novel. I was not disappointed. Again, he takes the reader out of his or her comfort zone. The theme of this book reminded me of a strange incident.

In the fall of 2003, I was seven months pregnant with my first child when I visited San Francisco for the fourth time. In the previous three trips, I noticed the homeless population, but didn’t dwell too long on the issue as I live in a city with a similar problem. However, this time, I became acutely aware of a deep hatred by many of the homeless for pregnant women and parents in general. I was verbally harassed by a couple of homeless men and given a roundhouse kick to the shin by a homeless woman. I was among the despised, a group many called “breeders.”

This prompted many thoughts for me about cruelty and a desire to end a species. I thought of pregnant victims like Sharon Tate, her hands desperately covering her abdomen and begging the stabbers not to hurt her baby, and Laci Peterson with her husband as her murderer. I read an article of a pregnant woman in San Francisco who was followed by a homeless man and beaten in her apartment. He then covered her in red paint. Fortunately, her husband found her in time to save both mother and baby with an emergency delivery. While some people regarded me as an appealing example of motherhood, I now knew I was also regarded as a repulsive agent in continuing an already burdening overpopulation. I tried to understand this latter concept, but I was incapable. I could not think of my unborn daughter as a drain on resources; I had already bonded with her. I loved her.

This memory resonated throughout my reading of Stranger Will. The protagonist, William Lowson, an impending father, makes no secret of his extremely serious doubts about bringing a child into this world. Fortunately for him, he meets kindred spirits who share his ideology. Yet, like many great characters in literature, William grows and even displays a glimpse of paternal nature for a child, Eugene. Even in all his darkness, I hoped for William to escape the existential nightmare of Ross’ city of Brackenwood. I wanted to believe there was a city beyond it, free of the absolute cruelty in pursuit of perfection. Then, I remembered San Francisco. In fear, I thought about the potentiality of that segment of the homeless population if organized and resourceful enough to take their ideology to an elevated level. I thought about all the vulnerable pregnant women and the doubts of their maternal abilities. We are not too far removed from the world Ross has created in Stranger Will.

With ease, Ross seems to dare you to turn the page. Chapter Eighteen is gut-wrenching. It reminded me of footage of Shias parading while flogging themselves. The children used soft, harmless cat-o-nine tails to emulate the self-flagellation they would later truly and painfully enact in their maturity. Ross is not so gentle with his children characters demonstrating their faith nor does he coddle his readers. His writing is fearless. The courageous reader will not be dissatisfied.

I welcome the author to my humble blog, Le Salon Annex, on his extensive blog book tour, “Stranger Will Tour for Strange,” on October 26, 2011. Find out more about Stranger Will here.

"Furtive Noon" is at Back Room News

2011-05-24T16:07:00.003-07:00

‎"Furtive Noon," my R-rated story about pregnancy, eavesdropping, and sexy secrets is up at Back Room News in the "News of the Front" section. Thanks, Brent.

Read here

New York, New York

2011-05-23T19:16:00.000-07:00

I spent a lovely two days in New York City and this is my short movie based on three stolen hours I obtained on a sleep-deprived morning after a missed flight. Obviously, the city has been widely documented and this is only my humble view, but I hope I gave it the homage it respects. It is in high-def and should be easily viewable in full screen. Click here.

39th Annual Home and Garden Tour featuring Artists in Residence

2011-05-11T16:39:00.000-07:00

The Faubourg Marigny Improvement Association (FMIA) announces a new spin on the annual Home and Garden Home Tour called "Artists in Residence" on May 15th noon-4pm.

The participating artists live in the historic Faubourg Marigny Rectangle will open their homes, studios, and gardens. Among these will be renowned painters George Rodrigue and James Michalopoulos; award-winning filmmakers Jim Gabour, producer/director of the Grammy nominated film Flow with Terence Blanchard, and of the worldwide No. 1 music DVD, "Norah Jones: Live in New Orleans" ; Glen Pitre, author, director, playwright, and screenwriter celebrated 25 yrs of Belizaire the Cajun, Hurricane on the Bayou, Cigarettes & Nylons and continues to collaborate with wife Michele Benoit in a variety of medias; authors Troy Gilbert (Dinner with Tennessee Williams), Jerry Edgar (The Café Degas Cookbook), and David Lummis (The Coffee Shop Chronicles of New Orleans), with additional local authors including Michael Allen Zell (Stitches of Light) and Kristin Fouquet (Twenty Stories), the latter of whom will also be photographing the event.

The foremost purpose of this expanded event is to honor the late Lloyd Sensat, an active resident of the Faubourg Marigny as well as a teacher, artist, author, tour guide, devoted preservationist, and long-time member of the FMIA, who took part in neighborhood events dressed as the colorful namesake developer, Bernard de Marigny. Bill Hyland, a descendent of Bernard de Marigny said, "Lloyd could be seen almost daily walking in the
streets of the Marigny leading a tour talking about the city he loved. He was an unmistakable sight; a jaunty walker with a full head of curly white hair (with a pitch helmet in summer), dressed in white linen slacks and shirt and vintage suspenders. "

Washington Square Park (700 Elysian Fields) is the epicenter of the Home Tour experience from 10:00 am - 4:00 pm hosting an art market and musical performances by local talent. Tour-goers can purchase tickets from 11 am - 3 pm on May 15, 2011 for the self-guided walking tour or visit http://www.faubourgmar.... (Kids 12 and under are free.)

As you purchase your ticket, register to win the door prize and receive three nights at River House, a luxury guest house in the Faubourg Marigny (http://www.riverhousen...), the magnificent home of author David Lummis, Coffee Shop Chronicles of New Orleans and his book's narrator. Amazing items such as signed books and prints, DVD's, and gift certificates from local businesses are available by purchasing raffle tickets during the event at River House.

River House will host a book signing during the Home and Garden Tour in its Marigny Street garden and courtyard as Zazou City plays New Orleans Gypsy Jazz. Featured at this event will be numerous neighborhood authors, with Faubourg Marigny Art & Books (FAB) as the official bookseller. Adding to the festivities, Sonoma Valley vineyard Fess Parker Winery will provide its newly created wine, "The Big Easy" and local eateries will provide finger food.

Day's Events:
10am - 4pm - Arts Market
10am - 4pm - Kids' Activity Area
11am - Music starts
11am - 3pm - Tour tickets available to purchase in the park
12 - 4pm - Home & Garden Tour

The Home and Garden Tour, "Artists in Residence" is sponsored by FMIA and two local companies, Positive Vibrations Foundation, and River House Publishing. Positive Vibrations, http://www.positivevib...is a non-profit whose mission is to seek peace and unity through development and preservation of arts, music, culture, and heritage. River House Publishing, http://www.coffeeshopc... a division of New Orleans-based Marigny Research Group, Inc., is the publisher of The Coffee Shop Chronicles of New Orleans trilogy, Parts 2 and 3 of which will be released in 2011 and 2012, respectively.

Morning 40 Federation at Pulp Metal Magazine

2011-05-07T05:38:00.001-07:00

I'm pleased as punch to have my short film with introduction published by Pulp Metal Magazine, one of the most eclectic places on the web. Enjoy the great writing there as well. Thanks, Jason Michel.

The Night Gardener

2011-05-02T03:35:00.000-07:00

click on the film for full view:

Short Story America Anthology, Volume I

2011-04-27T15:03:00.000-07:00

The Short Story America Anthology, Volume I, is now available for pre-orders. It is a hardcover with dust jacket, 56 stories, 544 pages. I'm excited to have my Pushcart nominated story, "Varietals," included in an anthology with such wonderful short fiction.

http://www.shortstoryamerica.com/

"Apostle Rising" by Richard Godwin, a review

2011-03-25T11:57:00.001-07:00

"Reading Apostle Rising"
copyright 2011 Kristin Fouquet

The first striking note upon reading “Apostle Rising” is the stunning fact: this is Richard Godwin’s first crime novel. The construction is carefully and cleverly plotted. The entire book is precisely paced with short chapters, keeping the reader anticipating the next.

Twenty-eight years after the unsolved case of “The Woodland Killings” nearly destroyed him, Chief Inspector Frank Castle must now find a copycat killer. With the assistance of his partner DI Jacki Stone, they try to penetrate Karl Black, a suspect from the first investigation. Black has founded a dark cult, The Last Brotherhood, which has a different interpretation of Christianity. In addition to the copycat killings of politicians, a new rash of prostitute murders occur, further stretching police resources and the psychological impact on Castle and Stone.

Weaved within the story are italicized passages in the first-person, allowing the reader into the mind of the killer. These insights are often poetic, sometimes wrathful, but always sinister in their foreshadowing of the bloodshed to come. The murderous author of these beliefs describes and elevates the murder weapon with veneration to such a degree, it nearly becomes a character itself.

Godwin’s diction is tremendous. The accounts of the murders are visceral, a witnessing of the crime in minute detail. A few had even this reader, a party to several autopsies and many embalming sessions, cringing from the intense depth and duration of these torturous killings. The ability to display this facet interposed with the killer’s dynamic philosophy, and the detectives’ slow struggle to closure, displays Godwin’s deft craft.

“Apostle Rising” is beautifully written with colorful language and vivid descriptions. Godwin’s deep psychological exploration of his characters may have his readers delving deeper into their own minds.

Find out more here: Richard Godwin Media

Purchase a copy here: "Apostle Rising" (Black Jackal Books, 2011)

"Apostle Rising" by Richard Godwin is now available!

2011-03-10T13:21:00.001-08:00

More information can be found here. Congratulations to Richard.

Pick up a copy. I'm reading it now and really enjoying it. Review to follow.

Undie Press launching Digital Editions at MoCCA

2011-03-07T09:52:00.000-08:00

Undie Press will be launching its new line of gorgeous, affordable literary and art prints at the 2011 MoCCA Festival in New York City, April 9-10. Our spring 2011 collection features New Orleans writer and photographer Kristin Fouquet. Please come by and say hello, and check out the amazing new art/word hybrids we’ll be debuting at the show.

For more details about the MoCCA festival, including times and location, please visit the festival home page.

(above: detail from “The Painters,” by Kristin Fouquet)

Richard Godwin reviews "Twenty Stories"

2011-02-21T05:55:00.000-08:00

I'm delighted Richard Godwin has written a lovely review of my collection, "Twenty Stories." You may read it at The Slaughter House.

"Transitory Treasure" at On The Wing

2011-02-14T04:30:00.000-08:00

"Transitory Treasure: copyright 2010 kristin fouquet

I'm so very pleased to have my photo essay, "Transitory Treasure," up at Full of Crow's On the Wing. Thank you Michael J. Solender for publishing.

Madame Fouquet Millinery

2011-02-04T08:10:00.000-08:00

"After Five" by Kristin Fouquet

I've been making hats for years, but have just recently decided to sell them. Pillbox and cocktail hats are now available at Le Salon.

"Street Send-off" at Fashion For Collapse

2011-01-28T04:24:00.000-08:00

"Smoky Second Line" copyright 2011 kristin fouquet

My photo essay, "Street Send-off," is up at Fashion For Collapse. Thanks, Lynn.

Finding Home

2011-01-27T16:45:00.001-08:00

Much like converts are often more zealous for their newfound religions, transplants tend to see their adopted cities with fresh eyes. Reading The Coffee Shop Chronicles of New Orleans. Part 1 had this native experiencing a renewed love for her city.

The narrator, B. Sammy Singleton, has relocated to New Orleans with much eagerness. He is opinionated, sober, and sensitive while offering his descriptions of the city and her denizens with critical, comical detail. Amongst constant distraction, he attempts to write a local coffee shop guide, while wondering the whereabouts of his close friend, who has a penchant for disappearing.

Most of the book had me laughing, a thanks to Lummis’ great wit, or amazed at his local historical, architectural, and pop cultural references. However, the final chapter’s poignancy left me in tears. Home is a relative concept, but he reminds us we are never too far away from home to accept the responsibility of our past as a human collective, no matter how uncomfortable.

While there are numerous local inside jokes, this novel is universal in appeal. Although I dwell uptown and Mr. Lummis is downtown, I am proud to call him a neighbor. I am happy to report this is but the first book in a three part series and I have two more in my future. Get your slice of New Orleans here: www.coffeeshopchronicles.com

Fashion for Collapse 2

2011-01-26T16:22:00.000-08:00

Blink/Ink #5

2011-01-24T09:46:00.000-08:00

Full Of Crow Press is proud to announce that Blink Ink Issue #5 is available! Cover and Photography by Kristin Fouquet, fiction edited by Doug Mathewson, produced by Lynn Alexander for Full Of Crow Press and Distribution. Stories by John Brooke, Julia Davies, Hugh Fox, John Greiner, Shubhan Gupta, Matthew Zanoni Muller, Fawn Neun, John Sheirer, Michael J. Solender, Sweta Srivastava Vikram, Townsend Walker, Joanna M. Weston, Jim Wittenberg, and Angel Zapata.

10 Photographs in Boneshaker BA 43-100

2011-01-10T04:48:00.000-08:00

You Were Perfectly Fine by Dorothy Parker

2011-01-01T08:29:00.000-08:00

"Martini" kristin fouquet

This is my favorite hangover story. A raise of the glass to the inimitable Dorothy Parker.

You Were Perfectly Fine

by

Dorothy Parker

The pale young man eased himself carefully into the low chair, and rolled his head to the side, so that the cool chintz comforted his cheek and temple.

“Oh, dear,” he said.”Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear. Oh.”

The clear-eyed girl, sitting light and erect on the couch, smiled brightly at him.

“Not feeling so well today?” she said.

“Oh, I’m great,” he said.”Corking, I am. Know what time I got up? Four o’clock this afternoon, sharp. I kept trying to make it, and every time I took my head off the pillow, it would roll under the bed. This isn’t my head I’ve got on now. I think this is something that used to belong to Walt Whitman. Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.”

“Do you think maybe a drink would make you feel better?” she said.

“The hair of the mastiff that bit me?” he said.”Oh, no, thank you. Please never speak of anything like that again. I’m through. I’m all, all through. Look at that hand; steady as a humming-bird. Tell me, was I very terrible last night?”

“Oh, goodness,” she said, “everybody was feeling pretty high. You were all right.”

“Yeah,” he said.”I must have been dandy. Is everybody sore at me?”

“Good heavens, no,” she said.”Everybody thought you were terribly funny. Of course, Jim Pierson was a little stuffy, there, for a minute at dinner. But people sort of held him back in his chair, and got him calmed down. I don’t think anybody at the other tables noticed it at all. Hardly anybody.”

“He was going to sock me?” he said.”Oh, Lord. What did I do to him?”

“Why, you didn’t do a thing,” she said.”You were perfectly fine. But you know how silly Jim gets, when he thinks anybody is making too much fuss over Elinor.”

“Was I making a pass at Elinor?” he said, “Did I do that?”

“Of course you didn’t.” she said.”You were only fooling that’s all. She thought you were awfully amusing. She was having a marvelous time. She only got a little tiny bit annoyed just once, when you poured the clam-juice down her back.”

“My God,” he said.”Clam-juice down that back. And every vertebra a little Cabot. Dear God. What’ll I ever do?”

“Oh, she’ll be all right,” she said.”Just send her some flowers, or something. Don’t worry about it. It isn’t anything.”

“No I won’t worry,” he said.”I haven’t got a care in the world. I’m sitting pretty. Oh, dear, oh, dear. Did I do any other fascinating tricks at dinner?”

“You were fine,” she said.”Don’t be so foolish about it. Everybody was crazy about you. The maître d’hôtel was a little worried because you wouldn’t stop singing, but he really didn’t mind. All he said was, he was afraid they’d close the place again, if there was so much noise. But he didn’t care a bit, himself. I think he loved seeing you have such a good time. Oh, you were just singing away, there, for about an hour. It wasn’t so terribly loud, at all.”

“So I sang,” he said.”That must have been a treat. I sang.”

“Don’t you remember?” she said.”You just sang one song after another. Everybody in the place was listening. They loved it. Only you kept insisting that you wanted to sing some song about some kind of fusiliers or other, and everybody kept shushing you, and you’d keep trying to start it again. You were wonderful. We were all trying to make you stop singing for a minute, and eat something, but you wouldn’t hear of it. My, you were funny.”

“Didn’t I eat any dinner?” he said.

“Oh, not a thing,” she said.”Every time the waiter would offer you something, you’d give it right back to him, because you said that he was your long-lost brother, changed in the cradle by a gypsy band, and that everything you had was his. You had him simply roaring at you.”

“I bet I did,” he said, “I bet I was comical. Society’s Pet, I must have been. And what happened then, after my overwhelming success with the waiter?”

“Why, nothing much,” she said.”You took a sort of dislike to some old man with white hair, sitting across the room, because you didn’t like his necktie and you wanted to tell him about it. But we got you out, before he got really mad.”

“Oh, we got out,” he said.”Did I walk?”

“Walk! Of course you did,” she said.”You were absolutely all right. There was that nasty stretch of ice on the sidewalk, and you did sit down awfully hard, you poor dear. But good heavens, that might have happened to anybody.”

“Oh, sure,” he said.”Louisa Alcott or anybody. So I fell down on sidewalk. That would explain what’s the matter with my—Yes. I see. And then what, if you don’t mind?”

“Ah, now, Peter!” she said.”You can’t sit there and say you don’t remember what happened after that! I did think that maybe you were a little tight at dinner—oh, you were perfectly all right, and all that, but I did know you were feeling pretty gay. But you were so serious, from the time you fell down—I never knew you to be that way. Don’t you know how you told me I had never seen your real self before? Oh, Peter, I just couldn’t bear it, if you didn’t remember that lovely long ride we took together in the taxi! Please, you do remember that, don’t you? I think it would simply kill me, if you didn’t.”

“Oh, yes,” he said.”Riding in the taxi. Oh, yes, sure. Pretty long ride, hmm?”

“Round and round and round the park,” she said.”Oh, and the trees were shining so in the moonlight. And you said you never knew before that you really had a soul.”

“Yes,” he said.”I said that. That was me.”

“You said such lovely, lovely things,” she said.”And I’d never known, all this time, how you had been feeling about me, and I’d never dared to let you see how I felt about you. And then last night—oh, Peter dear, think that taxi ride was the most important thing that ever happened to us in our lives.”

“Yes,” he said.”I guess it must have been.”

“And we’re going to be so happy,” she said.”Oh, I just want to tell everybody! But I don’t know—I think maybe it would be sweeter to keep it all to ourselves.”

“I think it would be,” he said.

“Isn’t it lovely?” she said.

“Yes,” he said.”Great.”

“Lovely!” she said.

“Look here,” he said, “do you mind if I have a drink? I mean, just medicinally, you know. I’m off the stuff for life, so help me. But I think I feel a collapse coming on.”

“Oh, I think it would do you good,” she said.”You poor boy, it’s a shame you feel so awful. I’ll go make you a whisky and soda.”

“Honestly,” he said, “I don’t see how you could ever want to speak to me again, after I made such a fool of myself, last night. I think I’d better go join a monastery in Tibet.”

“You crazy idiot!” she said.”As if I could ever let you go away now! Stop talking like that. You were perfectly fine.”

She jumped up from the couch, kissed him quickly on the forehead, and ran out of the room.

The pale young man looked after her and shook his head long and slowly, then dropped it in his damp and trembling hands.

“Oh, dear,” he said.”Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.”

Happy New Year!

2010-12-31T11:31:00.001-08:00

Happy Birthday, Pulp Metal Magazine!

2010-12-11T05:07:00.000-08:00

Pulp Metal Magazine turns 1 and is having a party. The guest list includes Jodi MacArthur, Melanie Browne, Paul D Brazill, Ian Ayris, Charlie Coleman, Chris Pollard, BR Stateham, U.V. Ray, Richard Godwin, Kevin Shamel, and my photo essay, "Playing With Fire." A lift of the glass to the charming host, Jason Michel.

Don't miss out: PMM's Birthday Party

New York to Your Armchair

2010-12-09T09:57:00.001-08:00

Ken Wohlrob must love his city. The author of The Love Book returns with stories so encrusted with the ambiance of New York, they could not have come from anyone else other than a resident. These stories, sometimes soft focused and sentimental about the city that was, other times microscopic in their harsh scrutiny, share one thing in common- characters. Wohlrob empathizes with these denizens occupying a rapidly evolving environment.

Many years back, on my first trip to New York, a friend warned me that with a city so heavily populated, I may start to think strangers looked familiar. I found this happening as I read Songs of Vagabonds, Misfits, and Sinners- New York Stories. Haley, the child in the story “The Look” reminded me of a nameless girl facing the character, Pat, in a hospital in an earlier story, “The Metronome Winds Down.”

The price of admission is well worth it for the final story alone. “Claimus Flees Manhattan” is a literary lark I’m sure I will find myself revisiting for years. A gem!

Songs of Vagabonds, Misfits, and Sinners- New York Stories may be found in various forms, even a soundtrack, here.

"The Night Gardener"

2010-11-29T10:21:00.000-08:00

My very short story, "The Night Gardener," is live in Episode 7 of In Between Altered States.

"Varietals" is nominated for a Pushcart

2010-11-29T10:12:00.000-08:00

I'm honored and delighted (and a bit stunned) to find out my story, "Varietals," at Short Story America has been nominated for a Pushcart. Many thanks, Tim Johnston!

Fresh Undies

2010-11-15T08:06:00.000-08:00

Molly Crabapple, David Sedaris, Superman...and much more!

Get your fresh undies today at Undie Press!

Chin Wag at The Slaughterhouse

2010-10-13T16:25:00.000-07:00

"The Eye" copyright 2008 kristin fouquet

Richard Godwin was kind enough to interview me about my photography at The Slaughterhouse.

Danse Macabre, Issue XL!

2010-10-01T14:30:00.000-07:00

Danse Macabre celebrates its 4oth issue with an offering so large, I cannot even begin to name names. This is one to savor all month long. Look for 11 of my most macabre photographs, photo commentaries from the ever lyrical DLW Pesavento, and even my little movie, "Oysters," a tribute to the beloved bivalve. Enjoy!

"Seven Photographs"

2010-09-29T18:41:00.000-07:00

My latest collaboration, "Seven Photographs (With Text)" with Hans Ostrom may be found here.

Intimates by Kristin Fouquet at Undie Press!

2010-09-15T14:05:00.000-07:00

I'm delighted to announce the kickoff of my new monthly photo column, "Intimates by Kristin Fouquet," at Tim Hall's wonderful, newly launched Undie Press. Name dropping: Karen Lillis, Dean Haspiel, Tim Hall, Victor Schwartzman, Mark Cashion, Lynne Senne.

"Undie Press is a literary entertainment site featuring serialized and streaming work by insanely talented creators. We also offer generous free ad space for your projects." Check it out!

Becoming Obsolete

2010-09-08T09:29:00.001-07:00

The inaugural issue of Muscle and Blood Literary Journal is now available in print for purchase or free online. I'm pleased to have my story "Becoming Obsolete" included in this issue.

Dog Days of Summer e-chap

2010-09-01T04:49:00.000-07:00

Dog Days of Summer 2010

2010-08-29T06:19:00.000-07:00

An interview in Encore Magazine

2010-07-21T07:51:00.000-07:00

Hooray! Tiffanie Gabrielse interviewed me for Encore Magazine.

"Apertures" poem by Hans Ostrom, photographs by Kristin Fouquet

2010-07-02T13:55:00.000-07:00

Hans Ostrom reads my story "For Eliza"

2010-07-01T06:16:00.000-07:00

Pulp Metal Magazine has moved

2010-06-29T15:03:00.000-07:00

Pulp Metal Magazine has moved to a new address. If you missed my photo essay "Above Ground" the first time around, you can still view it in the archives here while you're there.

"The Fumes" begins the dream sequence of episode 2 of In Between Altered States

2010-06-27T18:26:00.001-07:00

"Smoking" copyright 2009 kristin fouquet

In Between Altered States, Episode 2

"Varietals" is Story of the Week at Short Story America

2010-06-25T04:35:00.000-07:00

"Wine Bottles and Glasses"
copyright 2010 kristin fouquet

I'm delighted to have my new story, "Varietals," published as Story of the Week at Short Story America. It's presented in book format for your page-turning pleasure. Register to read; membership is free. Many thanks for reading.

Blink/Ink print Issue #3

2010-06-23T06:20:00.001-07:00

Blink/Ink print Issue #3

The Bicycle Review, Issue #7

2010-06-16T09:21:00.001-07:00

# 7 IS NOW ONLINE. POETRY AND FICTION BY VINCENT JOHN ANCONA, ADAM HENRY CARRIERE, SARAH DAUGHERTY, AND J DE SALVO. PHOTOGRAPHY BY KRISTIN FOUQUET. ORIGINAL ARTWORKS BY MUTTSY. THIS IS THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY ISSUE, SO HAPPY BIRTHDAY; AND HAPPY BLOOMSDAY.

The Bicycle Review

Bye bye, beloved bivalves...

2010-06-11T06:10:00.000-07:00

Linda Wastila gives a lovely review

2010-06-09T05:23:00.000-07:00

here

DM XXXVI ... STARDUST ...

2010-06-04T05:54:00.001-07:00

J.O. Boyles - Tom Bradley - Felicia Florine Campbell

Alana I. Capria - Patricia Carragon - Adam Henry Carrière

Alex Cigale -Casey Clabough - Joyce Corbett - Tony Curtis

Kristin Fouquet - Arlene Greene - David Hughes

E. D. Karampetsos - James Kendley - Larry Lefkowiitz

Lyn Lifshin - Ben Loory - Vladimir Mayakovsky

Mark A. Murphy - Valery Oisteanu - Ellen Omer

Jamie Parsley - DLW Pesavento - Elizabeth I. Riseden

Christina Rossetti - Save Rush - satnrose

Michael J. Solender - William Makepeace Thackeray - J.S. Watts

Jeffrey Wallmann - Shane Weber - André M. Zucker

Lights! Camera! Popcorn!

Sneak in to the multiplex of your imagination at the finest coloratura buffet online

http://dansemacabre.art.officelive.com

~ Danse Macabre ~

An Online Literary Magazine^tm

The Fifth Wheel Wins at The Lowestoft Chronicle

2010-06-01T10:19:00.000-07:00

The Fifth Wheel Wins

OWC Poetry Chapbook 2010

2010-06-01T10:10:00.001-07:00

Find out about here

Read it here

Kristin Slept Here- 25 Apartments, a photo essay

2010-05-24T08:32:00.000-07:00

My photo essay of the 25 apartments I lived in before Hurricane Katrina is now at Not From Here, Are You?. These are the "after" photographs taken in October 2007. Thanks, Michael.

25 Apartments

The Poetry Bomb Drops in New Orleans

2010-05-13T07:42:00.000-07:00

My photo essay of the reading...

The Poetry Bomb Lands in New Orleans this weekend!

2010-05-03T12:29:00.001-07:00

The Poetry Bomb reading is this Sunday, May 9th from 3-5 p.m. at The Maple Leaf Bar in New Orleans. It's going to be a blast.

Separating the Dancer from the Dance

2010-04-24T06:01:00.000-07:00

Erik Tarloff has a terrific article up at The Atlantic...

When Great Art Happens to Bad People

I Heart ARTISTS I LOVE

2010-04-20T07:29:00.000-07:00

I'm delighted and honored to announce that I've been given two pages, one for my photography (here) and one for my writing (here), at Artists I Love. Many thanks, Tom.

"Cold Feet" at Metazen

2010-03-22T04:42:00.000-07:00

My story "Cold Feet" kicks off Wedding Week at Metazen. Go throw some rice...here.

The Painters

2010-03-13T20:00:00.000-08:00

A short story, "The Painters", is in the third issue of the wonderful GRASP, a print magazine based in Prague, but now available for your reading pleasure via PDF here. Many thanks to the editors for making it internationally accessible. Enjoy.

The Cleanse

2010-03-01T08:13:00.000-08:00

I'm pleased to have my very short story, "The Cleanse", in the second issue of The Medulla Review.

Extra! Extra! Must #8 and #9 are out!

2010-02-24T08:24:00.000-08:00

Download here:

Must 8

Must 9

Assemble:

Bleeding Black and Gold

2010-02-21T07:33:00.000-08:00

My new photo journal is now avaiable at Lulu.

Baptism

2010-02-04T04:45:00.000-08:00

Nouveau Noir

2010-01-15T14:59:00.001-08:00

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Six photographs from my "Nouveau Noir" series are in #4.

disenthralled issue 4

Caleb J. Ross reviews my book

2010-01-14T04:57:00.000-08:00

"Caleb J. Ross reading Twenty Stories in the bathtub"

I am delighted and stunned by this lovely review. Read it here at Outsider Writer's Collective.

Two photographs are finalists

2010-01-13T14:11:00.000-08:00

"Streetcar Garland" and "Barber Shop Trio"

I'm happy to have two photographs as finalists in the December photo contest at Nola.com. Voting ends tomorrow at noon.

View here and if you feel like voting for one of mine, thanks in advance.

For Eliza

2010-01-08T07:22:00.000-08:00

My very short story "For Eliza" is at The Clarity of Night.

The Poetry Bomb

2010-01-05T14:46:00.000-08:00

The Poetry Bomb is a former U.S. military practice bomb. The artifact will be completely converted into a beautiful object filled with poetry from around the world. When finished, it will have a primo paint job just as if it were a classic car, complete with pin-striping. It will also have a window or portal that will open and close making it possible to not only see inside of the piece, but to take poems out at performances to read out loud, and to add future submissions. Once converted, I will take The Poetry Bomb on tour across the United States, and then, who knows? Plan on beginning the tour in late April of 2010.

It was mentioned in The New Yorker and I hear it may be making a stop at Chez Fouquet in New Orleans.

Find out more here.

Charactered Pieces: stories

2010-01-04T07:57:00.000-08:00

"Reading Charactered Pieces"

This collection of stories is one of the best I’ve read in a long time. The short form has always been my preference. I admire when a writer can take us immediately in and then release us in short duration. When it works, it is exhilarating. Caleb J. Ross delivers this.

The stories in Charactered Pieces are dark, sometimes disturbing, and anxious. I found a theme of parental angst stream through many of them. It was enjoyable to spend some time in the mind of Caleb J. Ross, but in the end, it was more personal. I believe a story is successful when you discover something about yourself after reading it. I highly recommend this collection.

Find out more: Charactered Pieces: stories

Blink/Ink print issue #1

2009-12-28T09:41:00.001-08:00

Blink/Ink print issue #1 is now available in pdf here.

Seven Photographs in Hobo Camp Review

2009-12-12T12:17:00.000-08:00

"Feel"

I have seven photographs in Issue 4 of Hobo Camp Review. I chose sepia in hopes to complement the dusty, road weary feel of the magazine. Thanks, James H. Duncan.

"Above Ground" in Pulp Metal Magazine

2009-12-08T15:34:00.000-08:00

I'm delighted to have my photo essay, "Above Ground", about the burial practices of New Orleans in the aforementioned Pulp Metal Magazine. Look for it in the Nonfiction section here. Merci, Monsieur Michel.

Pulp Metal Magazine

2009-12-08T10:25:00.000-08:00

Grab yourself a drink and relax with Jason Michel's brand new offering, Pulp Metal Magazine.

"A heady smorgasbord of odd fiction, cult celluloid, unreal doodling, lowbrow waffle & heavy, heavy music."

Themes:
Horror, Sci-Fi, Slipstream, Noir, Weird Fiction, Future War, Psychogeography, Dreams, Nightmares, American Gothic, Magick, Mythology, Dystopia, Post-Apocalypse, Bizarro, Urban Legends, Cautionary Tales

Digital Darkroom

2009-11-02T04:58:00.000-08:00

I'm so pleased to have 7 photographs from my "Digital Darkroom" series up at Blink/Ink as one of their featured artists. Many thanks to Lynn Alexander.

A.M. Garner's Undeniable Truths now available

2009-10-30T14:55:00.000-07:00

A.M. Garner's book is now available. I'm proud to have my photograph as the cover art. Read the interview to get a feel for the subject matter and insights into the author.

Read here: Undeniable Truths

Graffiti's Gray Area

2009-10-29T15:36:00.000-07:00

I have a photo essay up at the On the Wing section of Full of Crow. It's in Issuu. If you are unfamiliar with it, you just click on the cover and it should zoom to full screen, then read it like a book.

Click on the photo or here:
Graffiti's Gray Area

Please Sign the Petition to Save Our Oyster Industry

2009-10-28T14:53:00.000-07:00

This paternalism is going to put a lot of people out of business. 30 cases of vibrio vulnificus from raw oysters a year and of those half are fatal. Every oyster bar and restaurant in New Orleans has the warning about consuming raw shellfish. "Eat at your own risk" should be enough. The treated oysters taste horrible. Even cooked oysters would have to be treated during those seven months. Oysters are an important part of this culture. This enforcement would destroy much of the cuisine that identifies this city. Please don't punish the majority of healthy consumers because of a few at risk who could abstain of their own volition.

Please read: Louisiana blasts new FDA rule requiring oysters to be sterilized

Please sign: Save the Gulf Coast Oyster Industry

Durable Goods, Issue 3

2009-10-12T16:57:00.000-07:00

I'm behind the times as usual. I have a micro story, "Olfactory Hostages" in Issue 3 of Durable Goods. I share the issue with three talented women. Aleathia already has Issue 5 out. Email me or her if you'd like a copy of Issue 3. They're still fresh, promise.

Undeniable Truths

2009-10-05T15:02:00.001-07:00

My cover art for A. M. Garner's book by Rank Stranger Press to be released November 1st. Here's a nice article by the author about the process, the publisher, and me here.

Danse Macabre XXVIII

2009-10-02T07:56:00.001-07:00

Happy October! All Saints' Evening is live at Danse Macabre This issue is bountiful and I'm flattered to have ten of my photographs (along with lovely Tarot Death Cards, Grimm plates, and other macabre) illustrate the lush literary offerings. Enjoy this one all month long.

Project Eyepatch

2009-09-29T09:25:00.001-07:00

Hello Artists,

I have a friend, P.h. Fred, who has lost sight in his left eye, 75 percent lost from poor post-Katrina care and the rest gone after a botched glaucoma surgery. He has started a project called Project Eyepatch where he is calling on artists to paint eyepatches. He will auction them off/ sell them online to help defer medical expenses and special driving lessons. I have attached a few photos of the eyepatch that I made. If you'd like to help out, more info can be found here at the Facebook link: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=137193239054&ref=ts

The new face of Full of Crow

2009-09-15T09:52:00.001-07:00

Literature and Champagne

2009-09-10T10:00:00.000-07:00

READING ~ SIGNING ~ BIRTHDAY PARTY

BLUE CYPRESS BOOKS

What: Come celebrate my birthday with a reading from my new book Twenty Stories and champagne provided by Chez Fouquet.

When: Friday, September 18, 2009 from 5:30-7 p.m.

Where: Blue Cypress Books, 8126 Oak Street. Uptown New Orleans. 504-352-0096.

More Bookstores

2009-09-05T05:16:00.000-07:00

Twenty Stories is also available at
Faulkner House Books
Blue Cypress Books

McKeown's Books and Difficult Music

2009-09-03T09:03:00.000-07:00

I'm so pleased that McKeown's Books is now carrying Twenty Stories. If you're in New Orleans, please support this local, independent bookstore.

TWENTY STORIES

2009-07-29T18:27:00.000-07:00

My first collection of short stories, Twenty Stories, published by Rank Stranger Press is now available here.

2009-07-23T16:53:00.001-07:00

Interview at the Outsider Writers Collective

2009-07-18T05:34:00.000-07:00

Jason Michel and I had a little chat and it's now up at the Outsider Writers Collective. It's a part of Jason's ConversationsFromGodKnowsWhere series and it was an honor. Cheers!

"Eve" in the Sin Issue of BAP Quarterly

2009-07-17T11:33:00.000-07:00

"Eve"

One of my interpretations of Eve, a photograph, is in the Sin Issue of BAP Quarterly.
Click on the photograph to go there.

Danse Macabre Seeking Poetry Submissions

2009-07-14T03:46:00.000-07:00

Danse Macabre is accepting poetry submissions for its next issue, Stonewall. It should be a great one! They also accept unthemed submissions. So get your poems in by the deadline, July 26th. The submissions page is here.