Since I’ve been busy lately, here’s a little publications catch-up:
Review of Rob Schlegel’s January Machine for BWR (live today! it lives!)
Poem “Sand Map” in the latest Ghost Proposal
Poems “Possibilities of Fingers” and “The Offering Itself” in the latest MiPoesias
Now to roll ahead into figuring out the rest of my foreseeable future. No big deal. I dreamed last night about a crashing plane, but surely that meant nothing. I dreamed the night before about meeting James Franco, which was awful, and probably an equivalent experience to actually meeting James Franco, so I hope that also doesn’t come to pass.
Here, also, is my review of Ventifacts.
How pretty is that cover? And meaningful to the content as well. Good book design is important to me, unfortunately, which means I am only sending my manuscript to book contests/reading periods for publishers with good design. This means I don’t have a ton of places to send it. Oh well.
She’s inside that animal, the body of a cosmic animal with a stellar eye. Speak, transparence! Listen to the little girl singing in the wind pit—the echo distorts her phrases. Wind smears her voice, serrates its edges. She is sustained, infused, captivated by its mixed airs. She will live through its illusion.
– Christine Hume
Okay, moving sucks. On to the next (no, really–on to the next apartment. please let me move in, pretty please). To distract myself, and because I’ve been meaning to do this since AWP, I’m working on a review for the BWR web site. It’s nice to be involved with BWR again, and it’s nice to sit around and think about writing. I set out thinking I’d get personal in this review, tell stories about tornadoes and my own fear of wind, but when I started writing, I started writing about female voice. Huh. This thing is still in the works, but it’s nice to feel the same kind of creative surprise that I feel when writing poetry. I’ve always let intuition guide me into stranger corners, listening/extrapolating/spinning along variants of image and sound. Composing is hard, of course, but when it’s easy it’s easy, just like listening and getting caught up. Following the edge of something into a space that is more tangled, more jugular.
Rain, almost every day. I never have to water the garden anymore. It needs weeding, and most of the tomato plants have died. I’m trying desperately to save the basil.
Either the submissions in my queue are really excellent right now, or I’m just in some kind of forgiving mood. Feels like every other submission is getting slushed (this is a good thing).
I’ve just returned from spending the day at the water park, Splash Adventure (used to be Alabama Adventure, and before that was VisionLand? or something like that). They changed the name really recently, so the highway is still Alabama Adventure Parkway. It turns out that a small, local water park is really not that impressive, but it was still fun to be there with friends. It also turns out that I get claustrophobic and can’t breathe inside those enclosed tube slides. Really.
It has been so hot here, and on the way home, the heat finally broke into thunderstorms, the rain so heavy it was a little hard to drive in. Made me regret watering the garden this morning. The weather has been so terrible lately that all I’ve wanted to do is sit around (hence the not-blogging), but I really don’t want to continue in this way. That manuscript deadline made me read and write and think a lot, and I enjoyed it, and don’t want to lose that habit. Plus, we’re in solicitation mode for the upcoming feature, and I just got a fresh batch of submissions, and I’ll be deep in contest entries soon. So no more hot days of lying around! Or, I will lie around and read rather than watching various Bravo Housewives franchise episodes.
Oh right! I’m on the radio in 2 minutes.
It rained today, briefly, for the first time in a very long time, and I thought it would cool this town down but it did not and the cat and I are sitting here quietly with the fan on, reading through BWR submissions and wondering when winter is.
Tonight, a friend is having a birthday dinner followed by drinks at a bar really close to where I live, and it’s definitely within walking distance, but it’s so hot all the time that walking anywhere feels too far. Must. Not. Drive.