SNORIN' REVIEW: A couple of weeks ago, we ran a column on a non-profit freebie mag called Prose Kitchen, which was throwing a free gig for its debut issue. The team of undergraduate friends were still scrambling to assemble the finished product prior to our review, but the enthusiasm of the mag's founding editor, Andy Sense, won us over. Seemed innocuous enough. So, last week when we received two responses from three editors at Sonora Review--one inexplicably vitriolic and the other completely disheartened--we were perplexed. Fiction editor Robin Lauzon bashed us for "bash(ing) two local magazines and making mistakes while (we) get to it" (we presume she meant Persona, in addition to her own baby); and editors-in-chief Jeremy Bushnell and Eric Burger lamented that we "people who should know better" had portrayed them as "a batch of elite nepotists." We never said any such thing; and we're shocked that people who would like to see themselves as some kind of professionals (in the near future?) would begrudge a little press for a non-competitor. Their comments will be published in full on the letters page in due course; they'll have to wait their turn at the end of a rather long line of angry Salpointe folks. But one simple complaint was that we misspelled the name (Sonoran instead of Sonora). Big deal--we completely misidentified the aforementioned Prose Kitchen editor as Andy Robinson. (He was far more good-natured about it. In fact, he likes the name so well, he says he's keeping it as an alias.) We regret the errors. And we'd like to clear up this little misunderstanding about our opinion of the Sonora Review, per Lauzon's request. ("Next time you want to club us in the head," she writes, "do a little research; you might even learn something.") Well whoop-de-do. The fact is, it's been just a year since we dutifully reviewed Sonora Review in this very column, at the genesis of The Weekly's book pages. We remember it well, because it was agonizing to wade through all the sentimental poetry and stiff prose to find the occasional gem, so we could say something nice about a bunch of hard-working graduate students who put the thing together. It's published twice a year, so that means we skipped last year's completely lackluster Spring/Summer issue, and received Issue 34; Fall/Winter 1997 a couple of months ago. We leafed through it, had nothing new to say about it, and set it aside. And this is the thanks we get. Lauzon is mistaken to think we aren't well-acquainted with the journal. It's been around for a long time; and if you want to read some really good editions, go to the UA library and check out Sonora Review back in the early '80s, when it published interesting writers who previously hadn't been published much. Back then, the journal exhibited more of a commitment to nurture promising writers at the beginnings of their careers, and to take chances with more experimental fiction. This isn't to say there haven't been good issues in between, with the various changes in editorship. (Past-editor Jami McCarty's stint comes to mind.) But the former heart and chutzpah is noticeably absent. Of the magazine's 33 contributors, the majority are MFA's, some still in pursuit and others now educating as well as writing; many are published professional writers, with prizes and fellowships and book titles stringing along after their names. We're happy they're doing well. Apparently their better work gets published elsewhere. On the positive side, the current staff has polished SR's image with some beautiful artwork: Local photographer Ann Simmons-Meyers contributes two cover images, as well as a nine-page spread from her Shrouded series, exhibited in at least one local gallery in recent years. Other coups with which the editors seem really pleased are an interview with poet Mark Doty, writers hailing from Alaska to Amherst, and a collection of poetry, fiction, photography and creative non-fiction which they categorically define as "enticing and original." For our two cents, Issue 34 is just like its predecessors: If you're willing to invest the time, you're bound to find something you like mixed in with a majority of stuff that will fail to make an impression. It's $6, available at most local bookstores. That said, a guaranteed good time awaits this week, when the excellent James Dead and Al Perry, with openers Maggie Golston and the Agave Girls, lend their musical support to a Sonora Review benefit starting around 9 p.m. Friday, February 27, at the Airport Lounge, 20 E. Pennington St. There will be a modest cover charge at the door. For more information, call 882-0400. EARWORM: The buzz this week is at the Rialto Theatre, 318 E. Congress St., where Earworm premieres on Thursday and Friday, February 26 and 27. The two-hour performance piece incorporates the writings of Jack Keroauc, William Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg and Diane De Prima into an evening of theatrical spoken-word against a "beat-jazz" backdrop. Tickets are $7 at the door, and show time is 7:30 p.m. Performances continue Thursdays and Fridays, March 5 through 13. Call 740-0126 for information.

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