What I’m reading:

After the long spate of fiction I zipped through this summer, I’ve been unable to get back into novels again. One of the last I read, Pocketful of Names, by Joe Coomer (which has the absolute worst cover, seriously, what was Graywolf thinking?), I loved so much. I deeply identified with Hannah, the curmudgeonly young artist-protagonist. I haven’t managed, or maybe I’ve been reluctant, to be attracted by the prospects of another novel. Which is fine, because I really read a lot of novels this summer. Long due for some quality poetry time.

  1. The Best American Poetry 2008, edited by Charles Wright. Making my leisurely way through this, so far really enjoying it. No favorites yet, but Moira Egan’s “Millay Goes Down” is quite a corker. Vincent digs the cover with the nude woman in front of the lit window — points at it & notes with a giggle, “She’s got a butt.
  2. Parthenopi: New & Selected Poems, by Michael Waters. In preparation for the next Collected Poets Series reading, the first of the new season. Waters will be reading next week with Carol Frost. Should be an interesting mix.
  3. A post on Bernadette Geyer’s blog sent me to my bookshelves to find my own copy of Where We Stand (1994). It’s been a while since I read it, and it reminds me of why I fell in love with Brenda Hillman and Eavan Boland in the first place, the reason I like these sorts of collections so much: they inevitably send me off in search of more.
  4. And in this case, it sent me back to my bookshelves for another collection of essays, By Herself: Women Reclaim Poetry, (2000) edited by Molly McQuade, which is even bigger and meatier, definitely what I’ve been hankering for.¬† I read both of these books before becoming a mother, so now I have an entirely new perspective on them.

I’m still waiting for my copy of Women Poets on Mentorship, but the truth is, our new apartment is so much bigger that Lance was able to get all my books out of storage, and I’ve been rediscovering old beloveds almost daily that I want to reread. I can’t believe some of the great books I’ve got on my own shelves. I feel rich!

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