Here’s Litseen’s video of a reading I gave at Inside Story Time, December 15, 2011. The story “Vacajun” appeared in Dark Sky Magazine.
“Vacajun”
1 01 2012Comments : Leave a Comment »
Categories : Fiction, Readings, Uncategorized, Videos, Writings
Alia Volz <<< Litseen's Pick of the Week
13 04 2011Sun Jan 23 11, Fivepoints Arthouse
By (Evan Karp)
If you haven’t you should check out videos from {Blush}. This month’s Portuguese Artists Colony gave us several contenders for Pick of the Week, but ultimately there was no way we could pass on “Lani Lancaster and the Bionic Man,” by Alia Volz.
Aldo takes my face between his hands and kisses me softly on the lips. Then he gets eager and sucks my bridge right off my gum. I push away, trot to the bathroom and chuck it into the drawer. That’s when I catch my reflection in the mirror. My hair is frizz-frazzled and it’s all stuck to one side of my face. I look like that tabloid shot of Nick Nolte when he got the DUI.
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Categories : Fiction, Press, Readings, Uncategorized, Videos
NOT SO FAST!… Writers Reading from New Works.
26 03 2011Thursday, March 31 – 8:00PM
Hemlock Tavern
1131 Polk Street, SF
Featuring new work by Beth Lisick, Kelly Beardsley, Bucky Sinister, Alia Volz, Jack Boulware and Alan Black.
Show up at our reading or we’ll beat up your mom.Comments : Leave a Comment »
Tags: Alan Black, Beth Lisick, Bucky Sinister, Jack Boulware, Kelly Beardsley, Literary Events, Readings
Categories : Fiction, Readings
Before You Were Born: Stories from our parents’ surprisingly romantic youth. This week: two free spirits exchange psychic readings in ’70s San Francisco.
24 01 2011
Nerve.com, December 3, 2010
By Alia Volz
My parents, Doug and Mer, exchanged psychic readings on a blind date. Though they’ve since divorced, I recently reunited them to ask about their unusual romance.
I would like you, my beloved parents, to take a trip back in time. It is now January of 1977 —
D: Oh really? What drug are we smoking now?
You tell me. How did you guys meet?
M: We met because of Barb. She was my good friend and also my business partner at that time. She and I had a marijuana brownie bakery, and business was really starting to boom. Barb met your dad because she had a crush on your father’s roommate, John, and went out with him a couple times, though I don’t think they dated seriously.
D: I’m pretty sure I met John through the Berkeley Psychic Institute.
So Barb introduced you. Was it a blind date?
M: Well, how blind is two psychic readings?
D: It wasn’t a date. I think Barb gave me your number, and said I just had to call you. So we talked on the phone and came to the understanding — since Mer did tarot readings and I did aura readings — we decided to trade readings. I mean, if there’s a question about it, blame Barb. “Match-maker, match-maker, make me a match!”
Describe the moment you met.
M: I think you came to me first, Doug.
D: Yes, that is correct.
M: I lived in an apartment on Frederick Street, in the Haight. It had a big staircase where you could stand at the top, and it rounded around so you could see who was coming up the staircase. My bedroom was the first doorway to the right. I had a king-sized bed, and I did the reading right on the bed with the cards.
D: I had, of course, heard from the match-maker all about this incredible tarot-card reader, and I had goosebumps, like, “What am I in for here?” I remember ringing the bell. The door opened and there was this long set of stairs with this lady up at the top. I think the light was behind you. I knew there was no way you were going to come down, and I had to go up those stairs. It was kind of like one of those Twilight Zone things where the stairs get longer and longer. And I was very aware of Mer’s presence and her social power. You know, her aura was very — the way you were standing on that landing, you weren’t going to budge. I had to come up to you.
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Tags: Alia Volz, love at first sight, magic brownies, marijuana brownies, Nerve, psychic readings, Sticky Fingers
Categories : Fact, Sticky Fingers Brownies
“SFB” Excerpt
8 06 2010
Sticky Fingers Brownies is the true tale of a high-volume marijuana brownie business my family owned and operated during the 1970s. This excerpt is from an interview with Shari Mueller, The Rainbow Lady, who unwittingly founded “the biz”.
This oral history originally appeared in Instant City, Issue 6.
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The Rainbow Lady of Fisherman’s Wharf
…So I went home and I said to the universe, “Look, I’m working with this concept of getting $10,000 as quickly as possible to go back to Findhorn and I really need some advice here. What do you think? If you want this to happen—if you want me to make marijuana brownies—let all the doors open. And if I’m not supposed to do this, just whup me upside the head and make it real clear.”
Then I just kind of sat back and waited for something to happen. Well, those people didn’t even wait for me to say yes. Next time they saw me, they gave me a substantial amount of marijuana and said, “This is a gift. You can start messing around with it in your kitchen. If you decide you don’t want to do it, just give it back to us.”
So I started working up a recipe and I found one that seemed pretty good. To differentiate between my regular brownies and the magic brownies, I put a single cashew nut on top of the magic brownies and individually wrapped them in cellophane. I kept them in a pouch on my shoulder, rather than in the basket with everything else. So you pretty much needed to know I had them. I wasn’t just pushing magic brownies on unsuspecting people.
Although, there was a funny episode, one afternoon…
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Tags: 1970s, 1976, brownie lady, fisherman's wharf, magic brownies, pot brownies, rainbow lady
Categories : Fact, Sticky Fingers Brownies, Writings
The Inn & Out
2 06 2010
This piece originally appeared in ZYZZYVA, in 2008.
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Edith leaned into her cane and waited for the housekeeper to quit ignoring her. The backs of Conchita’s thighs jiggled as she scrubbed. She bent down into the pink tub and the hem of her dress rose, revealing a tiny smile of white cotton with a few black hairs curling around the sides.
Edith struck a match and sucked a puff. Conchita jerked upright. “Señora Edith!” She placed a hand on her chest, emphasizing the sheen of sweat on her bosom.
“I paid that Carlisle glutton $2,500 to lacquer the sinks and tubs,” Edith said. You’re scrubbing too hard.”
Conchita held up the sponge, and ran a finger along its blue underside. “Is very soft,” she said. Dimples puckered her pudgy cheeks. “No hay problema.”
Just that morning, Edith had heard Conchita talking English to another Mexican. If she could talk English to a Mexican, why did she talk Mexican to Edith?
One of her kids squatted in the corner, staring at Edith round-eyed. Edith disliked cats equally, and for the same reason.
“He ain’t got business in this place,” she said.
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Categories : Fiction, Writings
Nightfishing
22 05 2010
This piece appeared in The First Line in 2006. It was nominated for the Pushcart Prize.
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Nightfishing
The day my brother, Andy, left us for college, he gave me a fishing pole, a battered paperback of The Wind in the Willows, and a stack of Playboys. “I don’t know what you’re going to do with this,” he laughed, swinging the skinny yellow pole like a baseball bat, “but I sure as hell don’t need it. You could take it by Royal Pawn, see if you get five bucks.”
Andy pointed the pole at the worn book. “Hang onto that in case you get Castorapple in fifth grade. Don’t make Mom buy it again. It’s about some talking animals—your kind of thing.”
Andy was nineteen and super tall. He could fly right up to a hoop. He was getting paid to go to school in Arizona. I was ten, the shortest kid in my class.
My brother hung a big duffle bag on his shoulder. He’d already taken his things out of our room and put them in a rented pick-up. “And don’t let Mom catch you with the chichi mags,” he said. “Don’t be stupid, man.”
The front door of our apartment closed behind him. I blubbered, couldn’t help it. I chased him out the door and down the hall.
“What’s the matter with you?” he said, kneeling down to my height. “You’re getting boogers in your mouth. Just chill out, don’t stress Mom, and when you get some free time, come visit me out there.” He kissed me on the forehead then disappeared through the metal door under the EXIT sign. I pressed my ear against the cool plane and listened to his feet thumping down the metal stairs.
It was July something, no school, ten million degrees in Koreatown. Mom wouldn’t be home from the hospital until 8:30. I squatted in my brotherless room and fanned the Playboys out like a deck of cards.
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Categories : Fiction
Dolores on Ash
19 05 2010Originally published in Instant City, Issue Five, 2007.
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The T.A. from Metal Arts stood me up, so I suck on a martini and pretend to be alone on purpose.
Slayer’s on the juke, sounding tinny and operatic. Murio’s Trophy Room is a comfy Haight Street dive that always smells a little like old piss. The walls are Cadmium Red Deep and there are a couple of warped pool tables in the back. Caricatures of folks from the neighborhood wallpaper the ceiling. I frequented this bar when I was underage. I’m a grown woman, 24 to be precise. I have no business here.
A middle-aged man sits a few stools away, doodling on a napkin. He looks overused and overstuffed, like an old armchair. A skimpy ponytail drools down his back. I check him out because there is nothing else to see.
The doodler catches me watching and sets down his pen. A lock of hair slips forward into his pint glass and dances in the beer. He winks.
This is my cue to leave. As I pass, the doodler stretches a napkin towards me. I don’t want it, but take it anyway. It’s a portrait.
There, on the napkin, is my long neck, hawk nose and heavy eyebrows, in smooth strokes. My frizzy white hair pops in front of a black scribble background. The outgrown roots accentuate my natural trashiness.
“That’s wonderful,” I say.
I flip the napkin over and sketch his face on the other side, exaggerating the worry lines and the bags under his eyes. He frowns.
“I promise I’ll look younger after you have another martini,” he says.
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Tags: Alia, Ash, Dolores, Fiction, Instant City, Lucky 13, Murio's Trophy Room, Volz
Categories : Fiction
The Red Queen
19 05 2010
The Red Queen
Enjoy a video from the first excellent Quiet Lightening reading, a series begun by Bay Area writers Evan Karp and Rajshree Chauhan.
This satirical story is from the perspective of the actor who wears the Queen of Hearts costume at Disneyland. He has gone through rigorous training at Disney University and knows his job is on the line. But will the costume hide the human inside?
Alia Volz – The Red Queen from Evan Karp on Vimeo.
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Tags: Alice in Wonderland, Disney, Disneyland, Mad Tea Party, Quiet Lightening, Red Queen
Categories : Fiction
