Category: Writing
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Too True
The 4 truths and one lie about myself, with the lie revealed: My tenth grade teacher called me the Emily Dickinson of our class. When I showed him my next poem, he took a friend aside to inquire about my mental health. I laughed. “Poetic license, dude!” **TRUE. My first lesson that readers often confuse…
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In the spirit with which it was given
Many thanks to Karen for the Memetastic Award (which I keep reading as the Metatastic Award, but nevermind) and the sweet and generous things she said about me and my blog. This is just the sort of thing I’m terrible at — I never met a chain letter I didn’t break, never confronted a set…
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All good things come to an end.
I ended up spending most of my time at the Tupelo tables, which was an excellent anchor and fun fun fun, but I’m happy that the panels I attended were comprised of poetry readings. My favorites among the poets I saw: Claudia Emerson, Kate Daniels, Sidney Wade, Keetje Kuipers, Ross Gay, Paisley Rekdal, Aimee Nezhukumatathil,…
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The Lovely Marriott Wardman Park
I had a movie moment at 7:07 this morning, running to catch my train that was due to depart at 7:10 am. We New Englanders are accustomed to driving in the snow, but even so, it took a loooong time to drive a not-that-far distance… I’ll leave it at that, we’ve all got our traveling…
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The Giller Kerfuffle & the Challenges of the Small Press & Carmine Starnino
There’s nothing wrong with making money, not a bit, but if you’re looking for a fat profit, the literary world, and the world of the small press, is the wrong place to be looking. So let me begin by acknowledging all the brave hearts who put their all into publishing necessary books in beautiful editions…
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Squared
Holy smokes, it’s November. This is when I really began to panic. Not because of the holidays or shopping — we simply don’t participate that way — but because of what it all represents: the end of another year, the lightning passage of time. If you haven’t noticed, it’s speeding up. Someone needs to look…
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Intimations of Mortality
Lately I’m expending a lot of effort feeling frustrated by the lagging response times of most of the journals I’ve submitted to, fighting the urge to dash off mild yet curious emails regarding my poems. I feel stymied, depressed. Lately I’m frustrated by my failure to stabilize Aidan’s ever-erratic sleep schedule, my attempts at weaning,…
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Confession Tuesday, my occasional contribution:
Kelli, January, and others have fuller line-ups of participating confessors, so travel yonder for directions. I’m so far behind I’m still mired in September. My bottom’s still broken, but the pain is becoming more manageable/tolerable; also, my husband took a buzz saw to the stairs — the top stair hung over the second by a…
Marie Gauthier 