Keiko O’Leary’s Recipe for Hamburgers

While the kids at Keiko O’Leary‘s school ate McDonald’s hamburgers, her mom made teriyaki hamburgers at home. We love her poem, “Recipe for Hamburgers, 1985,” and look forward to performing it on June 17 at Our Stories, Ourselves, as part of San Jose Museum of Art’s Third Thursday series.

Keiko first tried non-teriyaki hamburgers in fourth grade. She writes short pieces, including poetry, fiction, and marketing copy. She is also involved in a new online writing community, Prolific Writers Life. A fellow writer from San José, Lorraine Haataia, started the initiative with the vision of a writing community that’s always there when you need it. Writers can share their expertise by offering workshops and events, and they can benefit from the expertise of others by attending. 

POWSJ fans will remember Keiko from our New Year, Nouveau show, in which Alex Draa performed her piece, “The Golden Beauty of Carlina Johansen, Author of Milliner’s Dreams.” She was kind enough to answer a few questions for us in advance of our June 17 show.

Keiko O’Leary

How did you hear about Play On Words?

Wow, it’s been so long. I feel like you’ve always existed. I’ve been involved in San Jose’s literary community for many years. Maybe I heard about you through the Flash Fiction Forum, or the San Jose Poetry Slam, or the Santa Clara County Poet Laureate program, or Poetry Center San Jose … It’s wonderful that we have so many vibrant literary organizations, including ones focused on performance. 

How has your creative practice changed during the pandemic?

I’ve experienced a deep change during the pandemic. I still do mostly the same activities, but my relationship with them is completely different. 

I used to view my creative practice as something I needed to force myself to do more of. I was forever trying out new routines and challenges in an effort to conform to some ideal work level that I could never reach. 

During the pandemic, with my kids at home, I lost all my professional time. At first, I tried to make the sacrifice gracefully, but I failed. 

I came to realize that the only way I could be a good parent was if I made time for self-care. I’m not talking about baths and pedicures. For me, self-care is writing, teaching, making art, giving workshops. Now I view my creative activities as vital to my health and my family’s happiness.

I still do challenges and try new routines, but I approach them with joy instead of with a whip.

What does “immigrant heritage” mean to you?

I’m fourth generation on both sides: all eight of my great-grandparents were immigrants to the United States. But they didn’t all come from the same place. 

I grew up in a multicultural family, so switching from culture to culture seems normal to me. But when I was a kid explaining sushi to my friends at school, I hoped that one day I’d experience being part of a group where everyone was the same. This turned out to be impossible. Even within groups I have chosen, I always find myself to be a voice of diversity: a poet among engineers or an engineer among poets. As an adult, I’ve come to accept this as normal and good, and to understand that I’m not alone in being different. 

Everyone has something unique to offer in any group they belong to.

I met Sandra Cisneros when her novel Caramelo first came out, and she gave this advice for writers: think of a group you belong to, say women or actors, and write down ten ways you are different from other people in that group. Do this for ten groups you belong to. Multiply all those differences together, and that’s the place you write from. 

I believe our differences are valuable, and we should not deny our heritage — any of our heritages. 

I claim my heritage in every line I belong to, not just as a person of Japanese descent and Irish descent, but also as an American, a writer, an artist, a computer scientist, a linguist, a woman, a queer person, a human being, a life form of the planet Earth.

What else should we know about you?

I love sending real mail, especially postcards and handmade pop-up cards. I also have an email list where I send (digital images of) handwritten letters. I write letters of encouragement and practical tips for creative people who want to improve their craft, organize their life, and see the big picture while taking meaningful action today. People can sign up at http://keikooleary.com/list/signup.html.

Join us June 17 to hear Keiko’s poem performed aloud.

Julian Parayno-Stoll’s “Jar”

What would you do if you discovered a jar of bullets in your family home?

We were taken by the voice and language in Julian Parayno-Stoll’s “The Jar,” which describes a young protagonist witnessing his father adding bullets to a peanut butter jar. We’ll be performing this short piece at Our Stories, Ourselves on Thursday, June 17, with the San Jose Museum of Art.

Julian (he/him) is a mixed/mestizo Pilipinx American whose writing has been performed at De Anza College’s virtual Euphrat Museum, Flash Fiction Forum, San José Poetry Center’s Bauchhaar, and Play On Words San José. He received a BA in Philosophy from UC Santa Cruz. Raised on Kumeyaay land (San Diego), he currently resides on the unceded ancestral lands of the Tamien Ohlone people (San José, California).

He answered some questions for us in advance of the show.

Julian Parayno-Stoll

HOW DID YOU HEAR ABOUT PLAY ON WORDS?

I was invited to submit to Play On Words by a wonderful creative writing mentor, Lita Kurth, who saw potential in my (very) short story. For that, I am very thankful.

HOW HAS YOUR CREATIVE PRACTICE CHANGED DURING THE PANDEMIC?

In a sense, my creative writing practice began during the pandemic. Although I have l always enjoyed reading and (to a smaller extent) writing out my thoughts, I became more invested in creative writing last summer when I was settling into a kind of despair over the pandemic, the hypermilitarization of the police, the massive climate change-fueled wildfires, and the realities of surviving under capitalism. At that time, writing felt like both an extremely frivolous activity and an essential practice for me to process these things. I feel immensely grateful for the work done by writers such as Ocean Vuong and Gina Apostol, because their books have shown me how the act of making art can be a means for engaging with the world from a new, more thoughtful angle. Despite much trying, I haven’t been able to maintain any kind of writing schedule during the pandemic. But when I do write, that’s the intention I now want to bring to my desk.

WHAT DOES “IMMIGRANT HERITAGE” MEAN TO YOU?

To me, being someone of “immigrant heritage” means multiple different things. On the one hand, my specific position as a mixed/mestizo son of a Pilipina immigrant beautician and caregiver and a white former sheriff’s deputy demands that I recognize my Pilipinx heritage in the context of the incredibly violent systems of white supremacist, patriarchal settler colonialism and American imperialism. On the other hand, as is common for many second generation children of immigrants, it means that there is a certain feeling of “disconnection” from this heritage. For example, I still have never been to the Philippines, cannot speak any Philippine language, and have not met many of my own family members. So in this sense, recognizing my “immigrant heritage” means grappling with the ever-present need to learn more about where I come from and to decolonize myself by engaging with these histories. But in the final and most important sense, my “immigrant heritage” means that I am a present manifestation of a long lineage of beauty which has persisted despite great hostility. In this sense, it is about the love I have for my mother and her family, which is my foundation for trying to bring into fruition, in slow steps, day by day, a different and better kind of world.

WHAT ELSE SHOULD WE KNOW ABOUT YOU?

Thank you Play on Words! I’m very excited to see “The Jar” reimagined with someone else’s voice!

JOIN US JUNE 17 TO SEE JULIAN’S WORK PERFORMED.

The “Minutes” of Muse Lee

Imagine a modern-day Hamlet in which the protagonist’s son is a Black Korean-American man living in LA. Intrigued? Yeah, so are we — which is why we are delighted to perform an excerpt of Muse Lee’s “Minutes” at Our Stories, Ourselves, our June 17 virtual show in partnership with the San Jose Museum of Art.

Muse Lee (he/him) is the writer and co-executive producer of ARISTOS: the Musical, a pop/rock Iliad adaptation featuring an international cast and crew collaborating remotely during the pandemic. An artist and educator, he taught writing and performance behind bars as a member of the Medea Project: Theater for Incarcerated Women/HIV Circle, and taught a novel writing course at a court school to youth involved in the juvenile justice system.

At Los Angeles Opera, he founded and led the Opera 90012 Ambassador Program, a training program for teens interested in arts administration. In 2019, Muse graduated with a B.A. in English from Stanford University, where he served for three years as a teaching assistant in the Theatre and Performance Studies Department. He is currently writing the textbook Acting for Non-Majors with noted Stanford theatre lecturer Kay Kostopoulos.

During the pandemic, Muse has been been producing the album of my musical Aristos (www.aristosmusical.com), a pop/rock Iliad adaptation that sings the love story of Achilles and Patroclus. Slated for release in summer 2021, the crowdfunded project features an international ensemble, production team, and fanbase, all creating and connecting remotely from our own homes. 

The musical proudly tells Homer’s immortal story — one that has come to symbolize Western culture —through the voices of a majority queer, BIPOC cast, comprised of earnest aspiring performers, professional actors, beloved music teachers, retired opera singers, renowned stage directors, and everything in between. Our artists range from ages 13-70 and hail from seven different countries. The show can be found on Instagram as aristosmusical and on Youtube as ARISTOStheMusical!

Muse answered a few questions for us in advance of the June show.

Muse Lee

HOW DID YOU HEAR ABOUT PLAY ON WORDS?

I met Melinda Marks (POW co-founder and casting director) when I auditioned for a show she was directing! While an Aristos conflict meant that I didn’t get the chance to work with her at the time, she reached out to me some months later about performing in “Play on Words: Beyond Boundaries.” I’d grown woefully used to a certain stiff-necked atmosphere in university theatre spaces, and I was enchanted by the energy of the rehearsal: a gaggle of artists bringing life to stories in a cozy apartment on a Saturday morning. I knew that this was a group I wanted to be a part of as long as they would have me!

HOW HAS YOUR CREATIVE PRACTICE CHANGED DURING THE PANDEMIC?

It’s actually become more extroverted! My practice used to be very cloistered, but the pandemic pushed me to find new ways of creating and connecting. I’ve held Zoom readings with my friends, where we showed up in hilarious costumes fashioned out of whatever we could find in the closet. I’ve attended virtual performances and tuned into audio dramas, joyfully reacting over chat with other audience members in real time. I’ve worked with artists all over the world, our tenuous, wonderful connections flickering at the mercy of our WiFi. 

These are all ways I had never really engaged with storytelling before. Sure, there’s nothing like live theatre, but there’s something to be said about how not having that option gives you the opportunity to reimagine theatre entirely. The productions I’ve seen over the last year involved artists of all levels of experience, of diverse ability statuses, and from all over the world. People could pop in and take part after school, or before their evening shift, or during their lunch break. While the pandemic delivered a devastating blow to the theatre industry, I was also humbled by how it forced me to reexamine my preconceptions about what performance could be, who could participate, and who it could reach. So much of what I had taken for granted about the world of performance had vanished in a blink of an eye — including its gilded barriers.

WHAT DOES “IMMIGRANT HERITAGE” MEAN TO YOU?

It’s the way I was alone in New York and thought I was doing just fine, but then I walked into a Korean restaurant and felt a weight lift off me that I didn’t even know was there.

WHAT ELSE SHOULD WE KNOW ABOUT YOU?

I knocked out the first draft of my featured PoW piece, “Minutes,” at the end of my senior year of college, but I’d actually been trying to write this Korean-American Hamlet for three years. I was going to write from the perspective of the Ophelia parallel character, Jiyun, exploring her heartbreak and grief at losing her boyfriend. I tried and tried, but it just wasn’t working. Which was incredibly frustrating, because I loved the premise so much and really wanted to do something with it!

Then, in my last quarter before graduating, I was in a course about adapting Shakespeare. The final had two options: you could either write an essay about an existing adaptation or you could make your own. I leapt at the chance to make my own. By then, I had realized that I was transmasc and gay. Within just a few months, I would also finally embrace that I was on the aromantic spectrum. I sat down to take another shot at my Hamlet. This time, I wrote from the perspective of the Horatio parallel, Hoseung, who quietly watched his friend fall apart as he swallowed down the feelings he didn’t understand and wasn’t allowed to have. I wrote in one night what I hadn’t been able to write in three years. 

The piece that became “Minutes” was my very first queer work, and I cannot express how much it liberated me to write the kinds of love stories I had yearned to tell my whole life. I think this piece was, to paraphrase Greta Gerwig, me trying to explain myself to myself. 

JOIN US JUNE 17 TO SEE MUSE’S WORK PERFORMED ALOUD.

Selma Tufail’s “Self-Portrait”

At Play On Words, we believe that the stories we tell reveal truths we may not have recognized otherwise.

That’s why we were drawn to Selma Tufail’s “Self-Portrait,” an excerpt of a memoir-in-progress that she is writing with her sister (and fellow Playonwordsian) Anniqua Rana. We’re delighted to perform this piece at Our Stories, Ourselves, our virtual performance with the San Jose Museum of Art on June 17.

Selma, an artist, has always navigated through the worlds of literature, art, and education. Life’s journeys have taken her around the world where she has taught, written, and created art — in Spain, Qatar, the U.A.E., the U.S. and Pakistan. Throughout, she has continued her pursuit of creativity in all its forms. She was awarded the Order of Civil Merit, the highest civilian award of Spain.

She is the author and illustrator of Con Yanci: When Chickens Fly and Other Tales, a children’s storybook. Her writings on gender, art and mysticism have appeared in The Dollhouse, Pakistan Daily Times, Article in Shards of Silence – An Anthology, The Arabia Review: TESOL Arabia, UAE among others. Selma is currently co-managing a blog, Tillism.com طلسم – Magical Words from around the World, with her sister Anniqua. Tillism means magic, and this is where they both share their fascination with creativity in all its forms.

Selma was kind enough to answer a few questions about herself in advance of the show.

Selma Tufail

How did you hear about Play On Words?

I was told about Play on Words by a previous participant, my sister, Anniqua. Then, when the opportunity came up again, and the theme fitted me perfectly, I knew I wanted to participate. My contribution, “Self-Portrait”, is an excerpt from a joint memoir I am writing with Anniqua.

How has your creative practice changed during the pandemic?

I have reached out and connected virtually with others a lot more. I used to be quite content working alone, but during the restrictions of the shelter-in-place phase, I suddenly felt the need to connect with others for inspiration. My favorite people to work with are the online Shut Up & Write groups. Working with multinational groups of writers adds a really interesting dimension to my own creative process.

What does “immigrant heritage” mean to you?

My family and I have been fortunate to live in and experience the cultures of Pakistan, United Kingdom, United States, Qatar and the United Arab Emirates. At the moment we are in Spain and continue to enrich our lives through friends we have made here, and our new way of life. 

I have always immersed myself completely in the places where I have lived, making them my primary home for as long as I was there. I carry my experiences with me, the people, the food, the lifestyle and pull out of my treasure chest whatever I need, when I need it.

What else should we know about you?

I am an artist and my work for the past 10 years has focused on the unity that exists within the universe. It is my attempt to restore the feeling that we are all part of a complete whole so as not to feel isolated even as we live on this overcrowded planet. My inspiration comes from the poetry of mystics past and present, from all religious backgrounds and cultures, and my preferred medium is oil on canvas but I dabble in watercolors and pencil drawings too.

JOIN US JUNE 17 TO SEE SELMA’S WORK PERFORMED ALOUD.

Marilyn Horn’s “Elephant”

Move over, Lloyd Dobler—there’s a new romantic in town, and he’s riding an elephant. The narrator in Marilyn Horn’s “Elephant” reconnects with a high school classmate while wearing pants her ex referred to as her “elephant pants.” We look forward to performing Marilyn’s piece on January 12 at the San Jose Museum of Art, where we will be returning for Play On Words: Beyond Boundaries.

Marilyn is a technical editor in Silicon Valley. Her short stories have appeared in Marathon Review, Blotterature and NonBinary Review, among others, and she also presents at San Jose’s Flash Fiction Forum from time to time. A collection of her stories was published in 2016 by Thinking Ink Press.

Marilyn_Pd3c7-ss
Marilyn Horn

What inspired you to participate in Play On Words?

There’s nothing like hearing the PoW cast bring stories to life. Sometimes when I finish a piece, I automatically think, “This would be a good one for Play on Words,” and then I check the PoW submissions page.

Which writers or performers inspire you?
Lately I can’t stop reading Olga Tokarczuk. Weird, funny and dark. What’s not to love?

Name a book or performance that fundamentally affected you.

Writing brings up a lot of fear for me. Mostly I’m afraid of what I’ll discover the digger I deep. So the book Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway has helped a lot. As for performances, I’ll have to go with Liz Taylor in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf. Talk about someone who dug deep. Amazing.

Get your tickets now for our January 12 show at the San Jose Museum of Art to see Marilyn’s work performed. Entrance includes free admission to the museum.

Ann Hillesland’s “Lost Hills”

“No one puts this part of California on postcards,” writes the narrator in Ann Hillesland’s “Lost Hills,” a 14-year-old girl moving cross country with her father. Anything can happen in a Motel 6—and in her case, anything will. Join us on January 12 when we perform this great piece at the Beyond Boundaries show at the San Jose Museum of Art.

Ann Hillesland’s work has been published in many literary journals, including Fourth Genre, Sou’wester, Bayou, The Laurel Review, Corium, and SmokeLong Quarterly. It has been selected for the Wigleaf Top 50 Very Short Fictions, nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and presented onstage by Stories On Stage in Denver and Davis. She is a graduate of the MFA program at Queen’s University of Charlotte. 

annhillesland

Ann Hillesland

Honors and awards include:

  • “About My Mother” chosen for the Wigleaf Top 50 Very Short Fictions
  • “Pique Assiette” nominated for a Pushcart Prize
  • “Lost Hills,” winner of the Prime Number flash fiction contest
  • “Pale Rider” won the grand prize for prose in Spark contest 8

Recent publications include:

What are you currently working on?

Recently I have been writing a blog, The Hat Project, in which I tell about my life through my large collection of hats, most of which are vintage, and many of which I’ve never worn. It’s an autobiography told through clothing. I’ve been at it almost a year, posting a hat or two a week. It will end when I run out of hats, so I’ll only be at it a few more months, unless I go crazy and buy a bunch more hats. If you’d like to check out the hats and the short essays that accompany them, visit my website.

What inspired you to participate in Play On Words?

Play on Words did a piece of mine a while back, and it was so much fun I thought I’d try again 😊.

Which writers or performers inspire you?

Alice Munro, F.Scott Fitzgerald, Rick Bass, Lydia Davis.

Name a book or performance that fundamentally affected you.

I recently saw the Aretha Franklin movie Amazing Grace, and was so moved. The love she showed in her singing was astounding. To put so much of yourself into your work, to sing with such purpose. I was crying. We should all sing with such purpose, whatever our art, our aim, our song. 

 Tickets are now available for our Jan. 12 at the San Jose Museum of Art–but they will sell out! Reserve yours now.

 

Ryan Alpers reads Gary Singh’s “Voodoo”

Can you find love in a crossword puzzle? Watch Ryan Alpers perform “Voodoo,” a flash piece by Gary Singh, at our Oct. 19 LitCrawl show at San Francisco’s Stage Werx Theatre:

Since we performed this piece, Gary has published it on Digging Through the Fat. Big thanks to Branden Frederick for taking photos, Cleveland Motley for filming and the kind folks at Stage Werx for making this show happen.

Want more #POWSJ? RSVP now to our January 12 show at the San Jose Museum of Art.

Anshu Johri reads Anniqua Rana’s “Birth Canal”

So much of the joy we get in producing Play On Words shows comes from pairing amazing writers with fabulous performers—often people who have never met, but discover they share artistic passions. Such was the case in October, when local writer and performer Anshu Johri made her POWSJ debut by reading “Birth Canal,” an excerpt of Anniqua Rana’s debut novel, Wild Boar in the Cane FieldHere she is giving a dynamite performance at San Francisco’s Stage Werx Theatre on Oct. 19:

Big thanks to Anshu and Anniqua for contributing their talents to our LitCrawl show, as well as to Branden Frederick for taking photos and Cleveland Motley for capturing it all on film.

Can’t get enough POWSJ? Our next show is coming up on January 12 at the San Jose Museum of Art. Stay tuned to learn more!

Anniqua Rana Returns

How does birth transform us? In “Birth Canal,” an excerpt of Anniqua Rana‘s forthcoming novel, Wild Boar in the Cane Field, the narrator labors alone on the banks of a canal in rural Pakistan. We are delighted to perform Anniqua’s work on October 19 as part of our LitCrawl show at San Francisco’s Stage Werx Theatre. We are excited to work with her again, after reading a different excerpt at our New Terrains show in February. 

anniquaAnniqua lives in California with her husband and two sons, where she teaches English to immigrant and international students at community college. Her extended family lives in Pakistan and England, and she visits them regularly to rekindle my roots. Her debut novel is a celebration of the rural women of Pakistan whose indomitable spirit keeps them struggling despite all odds. 

Anniqua has interviewed Asma Jahangir, Human Right’s Advocate, Pakistan and published essays on gender and education. She is at work on her next novel, A Sanctuary for Dancing Bears. She also produces the podcast Witty Bantr. She kindly answered a few questions for us in advance of our LitCrawl show.

wildboar

What inspired you to participate in Play On Words? 

I enjoy the interplay of story writing and storytelling. POW does an excellent job combining the two. And, of course, I’m honored to be selected.  

Which writers or performers inspire you? 

Elena Ferrante and Mohsin Hamid.

Name a book or performance that fundamentally affected you. 

The Meursault Investigation: A Novel.

Intrigued? Check out her launch party at the Bindery in San Francisco on September 17. Don’t forget to RSVP for Play On Words: Live in San Francisco on October 19.