On Sunset and Leilani

We're thrilled to bring a distinct new voice to Crosscut readers with today's piece on the closing of Sunset Bowl. I was introduced to the work of Seattle novelist Stephanie Kallos when writing a series for Seattle Woman on local women writers. Both Seattle transplants, Kallos and I discussed the importance of place in her work; her novel Broken for You is set in a fictionalized but quite recognizable Seattle.
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We're thrilled to bring a distinct new voice to Crosscut readers with today's piece on the closing of Sunset Bowl. I was introduced to the work of Seattle novelist Stephanie Kallos when writing a series for Seattle Woman on local women writers. Both Seattle transplants, Kallos and I discussed the importance of place in her work; her novel Broken for You is set in a fictionalized but quite recognizable Seattle.

We're thrilled to bring a distinct new voice to Crosscut readers with today's piece on the closing of Sunset Bowl. I was introduced to the work of Seattle novelist Stephanie Kallos when writing a series for Seattle Woman on local women writers. Both Seattle transplants, Kallos and I discussed the importance of place in her work; her novel Broken for You is set in a fictionalized but quite recognizable Seattle. I thought of Kallos' novel again when I saw the petitions circulating around Ballard by people who dearly wanted to keep Sunset Bowl in business. In Broken for You, one of her lost characters finds himself again through his work at "Aloha Lanes," which, although fictionalized to serve Kallos' purpose, northsiders will instantly recognize as the now defunct Leilani Lanes. Kallos is a keen observer of Seattle neighborhood flavor. Here's an excerpt from Broken for You: There are no sidewalks in this part of Seattle. Tourists do not flock to it. It does not serve as the backdrop for family photographs. It is not called a "neighborhood" because it seems to lack identity. On the other hand, maybe it doesn't want an identity. Maybe it's incognito. Maybe it's in disguise. In this unnamed northern part of the city — near the complicated confluence of Greenwood Avenue, 100th Northeast, and Holman Road, south of Broadview and east of Crown Hill; not that hard to find, but a little hard to see, unless you happen to be looking for it — is a bowling alley. Its sign is easy to miss, crowded as it is by other signage that has grown up around it since 1962: Mailboxes, Etc.; The Dollar Store; Jiffy Lube; Texas-Style Barbecue; Windermere Real Estate. But here it is: one of the last independently owned bowling alleys in Seattle, the Aloha Lanes.

  

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