American River Review, a reading by the writers and poets of the award-winning American River Review || Monday, December 3, 7:30 pm || Sacramento Poetry Center, 1719 25th St || Host: Bob Stanley 

 American River Review
 a reading by the writers and poets
of the award-winning American River Review
Monday, December 3, 7:30 pm
Sacramento Poetry Center, 1719 25th St
Host: Bob Stanley 
Patti Santucci – Looking for Signs – excerpt

I know what I’m supposed to feel. I’ve read it on Facebook posts, Hallmark cards, parenting books: pride that our daughter got into a great college, excitement that my husband and I can rekindle that pre-parent romance, satisfaction for a parenting job well done. But the clothes left behind hanging lonely in the closet and the certificates ranging from cheerleading to cake decorating clinging to the wall, remind me that so much now does not fit into Claire’s new life. Rising from the bed, I resist the urge to smell her sheets and try to convince myself this will make a great writing room, pretending that the freedom granted to me now that my only child has left the nest will be liberating. But I have been here before and Grief, no matter how you
dress her up, refuses to be ignored. After all, this is the natural progression of things.

Bio: Patti Santucci is a writer and painter from Fair Oaks, California. Her articles, poetry and short stories have been published in RePlay Magazine, American River Review, Piker Press and Literally Stories. Patti holds both an AA and a Literary Publishing Certificate from American River College
Jennifer Snow – Bibliotheca

Our story introduces friends, family, and loved ones as the archetypal wise old men, the mentors, the love interests, and the sidekicks with whom we share select paragraphs, and who, on occasion, occupy entire chapters. They are the ensemble we allow to read our first draft as it is being written. They are the people for whom we redirect our chirography and line-edit the narrative. They are the companions walking beside us, under the clear skies of late-night hikes, along redwood-lined trails leading into thick forests. They are those who accompany us during our wanderlust–ducking under tired branches and treading new paths over crushed leaves laying beside repurposed oak hollows.

Bio: Jennifer Snow is a native of Fitchburg, Massachusetts, but moved to California in 2015, where she has always known her heart belonged. A former Managing Poetry Editor for American River Review, Jennifer is currently serving as a student editor for Ad Lumen Press, the American River College Press, and as Poetry Editor for Sonoma State University’s Literary Magazine, Zaum. With her passion for writing sufficiently rekindled through classes at American River
College, Jennifer is now pursuing her B.A. in English with a Creative Writing concentration at Sonoma State University and plans to continue on to an MA/MFA in Creative Writing. Her ultimate goal is to become published and teach others the craft of writing.
Betsy Harper – Observations
In my neighborhood
Restraining orders are bold
And often fatal

Why do boys hit girls?
It’s obvious, he replies
They just don’t listen

Diabetes sucks
She says, as she picks up the
Orange and syringe

I wanted a sign
God took my smoking finger
My eye, and my leg

I have dementia
Sorry if I repeat things
I have dementia

I like getting old
Arthritis and hot flashes
Building character

Bio: Betsy Harper is a writer and artist living in Sacramento, California. She is honored to be published in American River Review.
Isabel Greerer – Langoliers and Knitting Needles

Langoliers are silver sparks at the edge of vision
flitting here and there like standing up too fast
consuming yesterday
everything you ever loved
like it never existed
leave behind a buzzsaw whine
like electricity in overhead wires

Somewhere ahead, in a place you’ll never reach
an old woman weaves a scarf-future
with long flashing knitting needles
the clack-clack sounds just like that young woman
who tottered out of your life in towering stilettos
knit one, purl two

Trees pass in a blur of fringe
on an embroidered highway
type destinations into your GPS
as if you’re in control

The old woman measures out your share of wool
shears poised
behind you langoliers chew up the road
like a cherry burning up a smoke
Bio: Isabel Geerer lives and works in North Highlands, serving low-income families in a before and after school program. She earned her AA in Child Development and a Literary Publishing Certificate at American River College and served on the staff of the American River
Review
 for two semesters. She has had the pleasure of volunteering for the non-profit organization, 916 Ink. Her future hopes are to continue to develop her poetry and to teach a literary magazine class at a high school.

Stephanie Parsons – Reflections of an Ocean

Jeffrey continued home to a place where the televisions had remotes, parents arrived home at five, and their house would be quiet by ten. The dishwasher would already be running, his father snoring, and his mother reading his sister a bedtime story. He would be able to quietly
slip through the door unnoticed, without question, and would soon be dreaming of Railey’s dark hair brushing across his skin.
Bio: Stephanie Parsons is from Sutter Creek, California.  Her goal is to transfer to Western Washington University for a degree in Early Childhood Education, but she has always had a passion for writing and literature.  She uses writing as a way of trying to make others see the reasons behind peoples’ actions, and believes there is always room for more sympathy and kindness. She wants to publish a collection of short stories about the people she has met throughout her life.
Marcie Mallory – Heat

Even as she spun away from him, she felt the weight of the heat intensified by her instincts of fight or flight, skin shining as little dew drops appeared across the bridge of her nose. She felt his hand close over her own, as if he could smell the sudden appearance of  perspiration once inside the house, as if he knew she felt weakness just from his proximity and he twists her toward him just hard enough for her to lose her footing and be pulled tight against his chest.
Bio: Marcella Mallory currently resides in Sacramento, CA after a two-year period of living in Vicenza, Italy. She is attending ARC and is one of the Editors in Chief of he 2019 American River Review. She hopes to pursue a career in photography and filmmaking with a strong
background in creative writing that will hopefully lead to her creating content that empowers people through art.

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