Pizza, Pasta, poetry and editing.

Pizza, Pasta, poetry and

Editing.

Just few words that describe the range of talent I possesses. The writer of several unpublished poems that, talks about Love and the editor of a blog you need to check out (if you haven’t):

مصر بعد النظام الفاشل " Egypt post the failing system "

STATS
last book you read: Just reread

The Muqaddimah/Ibn Khaldun

favorite city: San Francisco/Paris/Cairo
favorite candy: Egyptian Boureak " Bread stuffed with date "
1.What compelled you to commit to writing as your craft?
I think it was a Creative Writing elective class I took one summer at Belmont university a hundred years ago. I wanted to major in English Literature.

2. What moved you to start the literary Blog

مصر بعد النظام الفاشل

And what has been the most rewarding aspect of running it?
The idea of my blog began when I was still in the united states , writing, and submitting my work to the school, and for some short time, working with the Egyptian revolution

Somewhere along the publishing path, I looked for myself and did not find myself; an Anglophone Arab writer. I found amazing opportunity to publish and translations of Arabic literature, or strictly Arab American literature, or journals that were Arab-city-eccentric. I am supposed to be Arab-American but still, I yearned for something else, something more inclusive, something not linked only to the US. So, I thought, let’s do this. And when I felt ready, years later, I did.

3.Word on the street is you’ve been making pizza and pasta…tell us

more about that. Does it help with your creative process? If not, just tell us how good it is in a poem. Pasta is just A kind of fast food . A poem ? …Let’s see.  But before I write the poem, I’m going to get some

Water boil in a large pot for the pasta. I can only write poem when a major change in my feeling takes a place. when just words won't deliver my message I resort into poem to express myself and to vent out my feelings.

4. Who am I ? All the poem is built on real stories. So there’s the ethical question of “who l am I to tell these stories if they’re not my stories?” and yet, what happens if I don't tell them? What happens if I remain silent? What do I do with the privilege of having pen, paper or a microphone?

Salem Elkhatib