Leaping

To the lady painting her nails in the coffee shop: please stop that.

*

Today is my brother-in-law's 14th (actual) birthday. Happy Birthday, Keith!
It is a good thing my sisters and I weren't born on Feb. 29...Dad would have had way too much fun tormenting us. "No, you don't get a birthday this year" every day until surprise, here's your cake. Dad likes to play cruel jokes.

*

The Colt did his first reading today. He got some good laughs. Nice job Frank. Emily and Dawson also read. But they're seasoned pros.

*

I have an hour to kill before Keith's birthday gala and I came to the coffee shop. Now I'm wishing I had gone home to check the mail. I think something will be waiting for me. I'm not sure if I think it will be good news or bad. Maybe it will be all three and I won't have to wait anymore.

The Universe is Telling Me

to shut up and write (something other than a blog).

Kelly, who always has something thoughtful & true to say about the writer's life, posted this advice for writers:

Do not allow yourself the luxury of excuses. This is the tough love part of the show. This is the part where I say this to you because I want you to achieve your dreams. There is *always* an excuse not to write. Every poet and writer can create a thousand reasons they aren't writing. There are a thousand reasons not to go back to school and get your MFA. There are a thousand reasons not to finish your book, your poem, your essay. There are a thousand reasons not to carve a space in the day for you to write. We all have busy lives with or without kids, with or without jobs, with or without sadness, with or without X. Writing is choice. If you want to write, you'll find the time. No excuses. And remember, you're loved.

*

I was talking to one of my office mates the other day, and we were discussing how another of our office mates likes to work with the door shut. How stifling that can be when there are 2 or 3 people in a small room. But then she said, "but sometimes, I have to close the door so I can write. Because I can't just not write."

I can't remember the last time I felt that way. Which is strange because I started on this long, MFA-seeking path because I felt that way every single day.

Once I learned that writing isn't about inspiration (okay, some days it is, but most days, it's pedal to the metal, fingers to the keys work), I stopped feeling the urgency. The ideas will still be there when there's time, I said, I have to finish this paper for my lit class, I have to grade these essays, I have to do 12 loads of laundry because I've got nothing left to wear. I didn't think they were excuses. I knew the writing would get done--it had to. I had a thesis pending in the distance, and it was always on my to do list.

So now, today, this first semester post-MFA, there's no more thesis on my to do list. There is a line for "send out ms" and a line for "start new project," but there isn't a line for "write new poems."

Teaching is an energy vampire for me. One hour of standing up in front of a room is like 4 hours of quiet time at my desk. By the time I'm done teaching for the day, I feel like I've run a marathon. I know--a lot of people (say, high school teachers) teach three times as much as I do in a day, and they still manage to get things done. But I'm also very slow at transitions. Takes me a long time to get used to new things, and this semester, I am still not used to being a full-time (I don't care what my title is, this is a full load) instructor.

So, that's my excuse. The one that isn't good enough. And maybe, just maybe, if I sit down to write every day, that will pump the energy back into me. Maybe, just maybe, if I go back to the root of how/why I'm where I am today, I will learn to love being here.

* Update, 11:22 p.m. - After a two hour meeting, grading, teaching, and two hours of conferences, I managed to come home and write five pages of prose! That's the whole page, margin-to-margin. It really can be done!

Treats

I woke up today to find out that UA is closed. Sweet! Only problem is I had 8 hours of conferences scheduled and I am not about to reschedule them. I guess I'll make them optional.

*

Saturday is the first official Barn Owl Review reading and release party. Here are the details:

Please join editors, contributors, and fans of Barn Owl Review Saturday, March 1st, for our official Cleveland release party and reading. BOR Editors-in-Chief Mary Biddinger and Jay Robinson will read with Emily Anderson (of Warbler fame), Michelle Krivanek, and Kate Sopko. Bela Dubby's is a fabulous venue, with art, coffee, and beers galore.

Saturday, March 1st
Bela Dubby's
13321 Madison Ave.
Lakewood, OH 44107

Reading starts at 9:30 pm, but swing by earlier for beer and camaraderie.

*

Speaking of BOR, my definition of "soon" and others' definition may be slightly different, but my goal is to get in touch with my interview volunteers today.

*

I'm imagining life in Chicago. I'm sure I'll get mugged in the first week. Country Bumpkin, what can I say? Still waiting for 3 more, though.

*

There was no PhD news in the mailbox yesterday, but I did get my first issue of Prairie Schooner and Paul Guest's Notes for My Body Double. I totally forgot I ordered them, so it was a nice surprise. Also in the mail yesterday: a reimbursement check from the insurance company for when I had my car towed. So, getting the mail may not have been exciting, but it was good.

*

Hey, check that out: a post with no whining. Go, me!

Oh yeah? Well I double dog dare you...

All right, folks, the laughing and pointing stops here. Time for ya'll to post embarrasing adolescent pictures of yourselves.

I dare you.

I double dare you.

And any person who is old enough to remember the eighties can't say no to a double dare, am I right?

My Alter-Ego

They were easier to find than I expected.

Sunday Stuff

Marissa, I'm not ignoring you. It's just that I've done the random facts meme twice now, and I don't really have that many random facts--unless you want me to start giving too much info. (See my answers here--I can only find one of them, but I know I've done it twice.)
*
Tobin, the funniest guy in the NEOMFA (and perhaps the most photogenic), has a blog. Read it. You'll laugh.
*
The temp here might get above freezing today. I'm looking forward to that.
*
Today is my BFF's 1st wedding anniversary. Congrats Lindsay and Chad! This isn't a very good picture--but that's b/c I'm not a very good photographer. I'm still waiting for my copies from the wedding album.


And down here, a blast from the past. That's me and Lindsay in 7th grade, getting made up for glamour shots (aka - how to make 13-year-olds look like hookers). Seriously. We went to her grandparents' house after and her grandfather made us wash our faces as soon as we walked in. I don't know where the actual photos are, but as soon as I find them, I'll post them.

And Again!

Day Late, Dollar Short

I was too busy to post yesterday, but BOR (and Adam Clay) got more love from Verse Daily! This is some kind of crazy s*it. And pretty awesome.

While I'm on BOR news, the questions are almost ready, so I'll be contacting contributors very, very soon.

*

I was supposed to mail my ms out today, but I'm a day late on that, too. I'm almost done proofreading, and hopefully will be ready before the post office closes tomorrow.

*

Hate to tell you this, Justin, but I got no love from the University of Utah. If you're keeping track, that's 1 yes, 1 no, and 1 paperwork glitch. 4 unknowns. that's 1 yes, 2 no's, and 1 paperwork glitch. 3 unknowns. (I won't be going to WMU either). I'm crossing my fingers for at least one more yes. I want to feel like I have a choice.

*

I'm going to clean and do laundry now...and then spend the rest of the weekend grading. Fun!

Contributor Interviews - Barn Owl Review

Hey Everyone! You may have gotten word via Mary's blog about the next big thing at the Barn Owl Review blog, but in case you haven't heard, I'm going to be interviewing contributors. This is in the (very) early planning stages, but I'm going to try to get it up and running ASAP. I'd like to feature some folks who haven't published a full-length book yet, but won't exclude anyone who wants to participate.

So...if you've got work in BOR #1 and want to be interviewed, please send me an email at: st (at) barnowlreview (dot) com. If you've already emailed me at another address, or if you commented on my last post, I will be getting in touch with you soon.

I'm really looking forward to getting this up and running, and to picking your brains!

P.S. We're on Verse Daily again. Congrats Matthew!

Manuscript Madness and "Old" Poetry

I've been fiddling with my ms for the last couple of weeks. Changing line breaks and other small details but nothing big. I have about 3 drafts that I think might fit, but they're not done and my revising isn't going very quickly. I've cut out a few poems that I don't think are right. Shuffled the order a bit.

Something tells me I am subconsciously moving very slowly so I miss the last few contests before summer. Something tells me I should make the changes I marked this morning, print the whole thing, and stick it in an envelope. Be done with it--for now. Because otherwise I will constantly tell myself it isn't quite ready until I get to the point where I hate the whole thing. And then my first book will never get published.

Goal: Print and mail by Thursday. No, Friday. Print by Thursday, mail by Friday. That's the goal.

*

When I started grad school, I knew very little about contemporary poetry. I'd read a bit of Plath, a bit of Bishop, but very little newer. Since then, I've been focusing on the last 60 years or so. Now, I seem to have forgotten everything I read as an undergrad.

I don't remember anything about romanticism. I barely remember Dickinson. My new reading project is to refresh my memory on the "old" stuff. Pre-1950. As far back as I can go. Maybe start with Beowulf again and work my way back up. I want to be ready when I start school again in the fall. I don't want to have to pretend I know what people are talking about--I want to actually know it.

There is a Ph.D. in my future and I still feel like I'm faking it. Does it ever get easier? Do brains expand to hold more information? Because sometimes, I feel like I'm saturated. Like if I learn something new, I'll have to forget something I used to know to make space.

BOR on Verse Daily!

Hey ya'll, check it out! Wayne Miller's "Street Fight" (first seen in Barn Owl Review) is on Verse Daily today!

*

I'm sorry for being all cryptic, but I'm superstitious. You'll know soon enough. Especially if I'm going to see you in class on Wednesday (Amy).

*

I made stroganoff in the slow cooker today. Sort of. I don't like mushrooms, and that's kind of an important part of stroganoff. Or so the cook books say. Anyway, I probably won't do it again. SOS is better.

*

Last year, I complained that U of A closes for Pres. Day on Tuesday. This year, I'm psyched because Tuesday is my longest teaching day. And tomorrow night, Varley is reading in Y-town. That sounds like a good day.

*

One of my students is writing a paper about what her life would be like if she was born a boy. She thinks she'd be gay. She's calling the paper "Bros before Hos."

Aah, the life of an adjunct.

A Hint

Shhh...

The good news is about school, and Brandi thinks it would be good for me to live there.

But don't say anything! I don't want to jinx the ones I'm still waiting to hear back on!

Mailbox

It was a happy day at the mailbox today. Happier than a poem acceptance.

I'll save the details until I've gotten the rest of my results. Are you dying with anticipation? I am.

Good things come in 3's (bad things come in chunks)

Exciting news here, here, and here. Congrats & good luck to all!

*

I am enjoying my slow Thursday morning a lot. This is the only day of the week that I don't teach before noon. Oh, how I miss my 1:00 starting time of last semester!

*

I feel very busy all the time but get very little done. The PhD waiting. The teaching 3 classes, grading 60 papers/homework assignments, wondering how to get my apathetic students excited. The "okay, now that my thesis is done, what do I do?" The "okay, now that my thesis is done, I need to put it in the mail." Thinking of 12 different projects but doing little more than making notes about any of them. Desperately, desperately wanting to make a plan...but the PhD waiting again. There are two people at UA who have been accepted to their top choices already, and one who's been wait-listed, but all I hear are crickets (and "please leave a message" messages).

*

I am tired of spinning tires, slushy sidewalks, and wet pants. I am tired of runny noses and chapped lips. I need spring, spring, spring!

*

Tomorrow is Jay's birthday. I probably won't blog tomorrow, so Happy Birthday, dude.

Snow Day!

Yes, he's cute, but more importantly, Wayne Miller writes good poems. Check out my review of Only the Senses Sleep on the Barn Owl Review Blog. Oh, and it just so happens that this review is weather-appropriate, see: There is a chill in almost every poem, a billowing wind that makes readers want to grab the nearest sweater.

Speaking of BOR, did you get your copy yet?

***

It is cold and snowy today. We got sent home from UA at 12:30. Right in time for all of us to drive through the worst of the snow. It's raining now, which makes me very, very glad to be home. It sounds like someone is throwing sand at my window.

For some reason, I felt like taking pictures of my ugly gloves. I only wear these when I'm smoking in the garage. I smoke in the garage because it's no fun smoking on the porch anymore. Oh, how I miss the summer. I suppose the easier, more logical solution would be to quit smoking, but I'm not really eager to try that again. You remember what happened last time.

Anyhow, I'm excited about my short workday today, and thinking I might get some work done tonight on my manuscript. Cross your fingers for me, because those deadlines are getting closer and closer.

Oh, and speaking of deadlines, I got a letter from one of the programs I applied to--and they're not considering my application because it was incomplete. Except I can't get a hold of anyone who can tell me what was missing. Aargh! Hopefully this is the only incomplete application out there. The waiting is taking years off my life. I'd really like to know what's going on.

***

I've been a bad blogging buddy lately. Congrats to you, you, and you, and get well soon to you.

The Road

I started my day by crying over the end of The Road. I tried to finish it last night, but fell asleep with about 40 pages left. Eric was right. It's amazing. I won't do any kind of mini-review, because I'm sure that there are many already out there, but will say that McCarthy is so good at the fragment sentence, at the occasional philosophical observation, at layering simple images to make something more complex, that every writer, regardless of genre, should read this book over and over.

What I'm thinking about this morning, though, is the toll writing a book like this must have on the author. There's been a lot of talk lately about how troubled Heath Ledger was before his death because of the difficult role of the Joker, and I think that writers must go through a similar process when working on an emotionally difficult or intense project. I don't know about you, but for me to recreate an emotion with any kind of accuracy, I have to force myself to feel that emotion. That's one of the many reasons I've turned to poetry in the last few years--the format allows me to capture what I need to capture without wallowing for too long in something ugly.

This is also one of the reasons I'm hesitant to start working on this nonfiction project I've got rolling around in my head. It's about me, my mother, my family, and the events leading up to my mother's lung transplant. It's about the greatest fear and the greatest sadness I've ever felt, but also about hope and faith. To really get it on paper, I have to go back to a version of myself that I'm very happy to have left behind. Can I go there without getting stuck?

So I wonder--are there writers who can deal with bad feelings without feeling bad feelings? Have I just not learned the art of detachment? Or is this part of being an "Artist"--that stereotypical narcissistic persona who must suffer in order to create?

Procrastinating

I should be cleaning, or grading, or working on my manuscript, but instead, here I am. Surprise.

Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to have a life where I actually take weekends off. Even when I was working a normal (9-5) job, I was always taking classes. Okay, I know I'm spoiled. I just took half the summer off. And the whole summer before that. But I was in school mode the whole time, writing & reading close to 40 hours a week. Does anyone get to just go home from work and relax anymore?

I think I'm going to order a pizza today. For some reason, I feel guilty about it.

I wrote a poem last night. It wasn't like my usual stuff, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

I have a meeting with VO on Monday. To talk about my memoir proposal. Don't tell Mary. I wonder what Wasserman would say about me writing non-fiction. Better or worse than poetry? Maybe I'll start working on that romance novel just to get him off my back.

Randomness

• Thinking about Lent today. And religion and faith. I haven't been to church/mass in a very long time, and have some conflicting feelings about my past as a bible thumper, but today, I'm missing that part of my life.
• Getting more and more frustrated about the PhD decision waiting game. I just want to start planning. Is that too much to ask?
• I'm still not recovered from AWP. My suitcase is still in the middle of the room, waiting to be emptied and put away. I'm tired. And my voice is still raspy.
• Silliman says: I am not at all certain that any MFA program should admit a student who cannot name a minimum of 100 books of contemporary poetry – published in the past 25 years – and say a little about each. And I am not sure that I would graduate any student who did not then seriously read 200 more such books over the next period of time. I think I might be a smidge behind.
• I printed out 5 submission packets today. But now the post office is closed, so they won't go out until tomorrow. Part of me wants to print out new cover letters so the date is right.
• Speaking of submissions, my mailbox has been without poetry news for a long time. Dear editors, please send me something!

Get 'em while they're hot!

Did you run out of money at AWP? Did you miss it all together?

Never fear! Barn Owl Review Issue #1 is available via PayPal. Go get one!

A *Real* Post About AWP

And by real, I mean with complete sentences.

NYC was totally overwhelming. Totally clausterphobia-enducing. But totally amazing, too. I won't rush back--I'd rather spend my travel money on wide open spaces--but I'm glad I can circle it on my map of places I've been. (Yes, I really have a map.)

OMG! I am so glad I hung on Mary's coat-tails for the travel part of things. I would have been all kinds of lost from the second I got off the plane. We stopped long enough to buy a couple of sandwhiches and by the time we got to baggage claim, neither of our giant blue suitcases were anywhere in sight (okay, this is getting creepy. First our handwriting (eerily similar), then our clothes (black tights and Mary Janes, anyone?), then blue suitcases). Luckily, we found them in the office and got the taxi...another kind of craziness I'll be perfectly happy to avoid for the rest of my life. Is it not illegal to pass on the right in NYC, or does no one follow the rules?

The blog-stalking turned real-life stalking started almost as soon as we got to the Hilton, since Oliver was in the P-S line while I was in the T-Z line at check-in, but the silly, unnecessary shyness started then, too. Next year, I'll say hello to everyone I only know in cyberland, I swear.

Wednesday, we had dinner at a place called Playwrites (or something like that) with Brandi and Daniela and the NEO-crew, then drinks with the pedagogy guys (right: Joshua and Gary with Mary).

Thursday, Jay and I opened the Barn Owl table, and while Jay was away finding coffee, Adam was the first to pick up a contributor copy. I also met Gary and Mathias during my shift. Then I skipped the panels for the afternoon in favor of checking out MoMa with Jen and Jay.

Thursday night we were here. We took a taxi, and even though Mary told me never to get in an unmarked cab, I did. Dimitri drove an Escalade, listened to classic rock, and seemed to think going to a poetry reading was absolutely the coolest thing you could do in NYC on a Thursday night. Then we went here. I had the pollo saltado. You already saw the picture.

I'm reluctant to admit that I played hookie all day on Friday. Didn't set foot into the Hilton until late that night. Wait. I almost forgot. I did the pedagogy forum first. But that was in the Sheraton. It was raining (pouring!) all day, but we toughed it out and wandered Greenwhich Village. Checked out a couple cool vintage shops, took my first subway ride, and was soaking wet when we stumbled back to Midtown in time to get in another taxi (a real one this time!) to go to the 11th Street Bar with Mary and the other Jay.

Sadly, I didn't get to hear the Switchback/Sarabande/Red Morning/etc. folks because the place was packed and we got there late. But I still had fun. And got to hang out with Steve (if you ask when he's not around, I will tell you he's cute).

Saturday, I did my shift at the NEOMFA table, then went to the Blockheads (Prose Poem) panel, which was moderated by Corn Shake (another person I geeked out and didn't say hello to), then held down the BOR fort for the last leg of the bookfair. I didn't manage to make many rounds myself, so only got to take home the free stuff people handed me as I walked by. Wish I would have made more time for swag.

Then there was the dance party. Adam introduced me to Eduardo, but it was so loud and I was so distracted that I didn't realize he was the Eduardo until Adam was like, "dude, don't you know who that is?" and then I felt like a giant ass. But I think he forgave me...unlike Adam, who is probably still pretty mad that I spilled his wine on his shirt. I saw John for a split second, and then it was time to crash.

Now that it's over, I am wishing that AWP could be broken into two weekends; one for panels, one for parties. I didn't get to meet/talk to everyone that I wanted and I didn't get to hear as many people read as I would have liked either. I suppose it is impossible to find the 70-or so people you know in a sea of 7000, and I suppose it is inevitable that you will miss some cool panels/readings when there are 30 choices for every hour, but I'm a little bummed that I didn't manage my time better. Next year. Yeah.

Starstruck

So, I feel funny about seeing people in real life after blog-stalking them for months/years. Here are some folks I spotted but didn't say hello to:

Oliver De La Paz
C. Dale Young
Aimee Nez
Wayne Miller
Reb Livingston
Charles Jensen
Kim Addonizio
Paul Guest
Adam Clay

I'm such a dork!

AWP Pics

First night in NYC with Brandi, Jay, & Mary

At Pio Pio Riko in Brooklyn with Jay, Emily, Tobin, and Jen

Pollo Saltado. Yes, there are French fries mixed in with the chicken and tomatoes.

A non-hobbit photo of me and Mary. That's Steve hiding in the background.

Simone and her furry hat (and me)

Getting up-close and personal with Jay R. And why didn't anybody tell me my eyeliner was taking over the world?

And a blurry, rain-soaked photo of St. Marks Ave