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HAVIK 2021 HAS ARRIVED!

Inside Brilliance, the 2021 edition of Havik, is here! If you are published in the book, your copy has been mailed. For a preview of the book, go to Havik 2021: Inside Brilliance.


If you would like to order extra copies, scroll down for the Order Form. We are mailing out orders every week. 

This year, the Havik Publications and Awards Ceremony was part of the Online Las Positas College Literary Arts Festival on Saturday, May 8, 2021. #GetLit #WreakHavik 


A recording of the ceremony is available through Havik's Facebook page. 

 

ORDER HAVIK 2021

Please make checks to LPC Anthology/Foundation; unfortunately, we cannot accept

payment by credit card.

Please send check to:

Melissa Korber, Havik Co-adviser

Las Positas College

3000 Campus Hill Drive

Livermore, California 94551


Order forms can be emailed to Havik@laspositascollege.edu or sent with payment.

Books will not be mailed until payment has been received. Orders received after June 13, 2021,

may not be shipped until August due to the summer break. First come, first served.

 
 
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SOLD OUT

HAVIK 2020: HOMEWARD

(As of July 17, 2020)

Havik 2020: Homeward is no longer available for ordering. Remember: all admitted artists will receive one free copy by mail.

Books have been sent to fulfill orders and admitted artists.

Check out some of Homeward in the new "Havik 2020 Homeward" tab (some online exclusives).

 
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HAVIK

The Las Positas College Journal of Arts and Literature

 

CURRENT VISUAL SHOWCASE

HIP HOP ARCHITECTURE: SIGNIFYIN' SAMPLE, LAYER, REPEAT

Nathan Williams

2019

HipHopArch_Signifyin_Sample_Layer_Repeat
 

CURRENT LITERARY SHOWCASE

THE HOMELESS MAN

CAROL PERRY

2019

Wandering aimlessly down busy Race Street, I enjoy the fingers of light as they reach through the bare branches and touch the street. Looking at nothing in particular I gaze into the shop windows and overhear sound bites as people drift by. My view shifts to the street and something ahead catches my attention: it is a homeless person in a wheelchair half a block up on the other side of the street. My heart jumps as I ask deep in my unconscious, “Could it be him?”

Homeless men of a certain age, somewhere between graying adult and elderly, catch my attention. I know it is mostly impossible for any of them to be my brother, but my mind plays tricks on me. I’ll see him out of the corner of my eye: a characteristic angular, jerky walk, or hair the color of dirty dishwater, or something I can’t quite put my finger on. There are definitely times when his shadow plays upon the light of my day.