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We hope this message finds you well-rested, fed, and loved.
As working people who only know how to talk about work and women off the clock, we have little time to devote to much else besides getting through each day, week, month. Chechebureche, which loosely translates to random shit, intends to be an e-zine dedicated to being a creative, honest, and critically conscious outlet for ourselves in the real world.
We humbly invite you to join us.
We just want to organize our random shit altogether and make it look nice—unless you want it to look like not-nice-looking shit, in which case please clarify that in your submission intention.
Chechebureche might be a quarterly publication. But it will more likely be a publication that goes out whenever we are able to put something out. We hope you can roll with that.
If you’re interested, please holler back.
Also, please forward as you see fit. Pen names always welcome.
Thank you for reading, and for considering creating with us.
P and B
Chechebureche Zine Editors
November is nearly here, and our Road Trip to NaNoWriMo is winding down. On the way, we’ve heard from so many great writers about how their cities can inspire your novel. Today, we stop in Los Angeles, where volunteer Municipal Liaison Xander asks you, “who are you?”:
Writing in Los Angeles isn’t as glamorous as it sounds (unless you’re writing on Rodeo Drive. That’s about as glamorous as it gets). It’s hard, dirty, gritty work. So then why are you here?
The answer to that comes back to hard, dirty, gritty work, too. People come to Los Angeles seeking many things. Some come seeking careers in showbiz, some come looking for sunshine and palm trees. Some people are born here, privileged and underprivileged alike.
Think about motivation as you plan your NaNo novel. Watch people’s faces as they pass by and imagine where they are coming from and where they are hoping to go to. Think about the uncertainty that surrounds the darker and lighter sides alike, in a city like Los Angeles.
Mentally preparing myself for NaNoWriMo… -prito
A little reminder to we’re-progressive-you’re-not Americans.
as if I had never walked
except with you, my heart,
as if I could not walk
except with you,
as if I could not sing
except when you sing.
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