The other day a friend was telling me how much he hates judging poetry contests. He said the last time he chose a winner, he wasn't sure about the book. But he really liked the font.
I keep thinking about that font. It sounded a little like he was saying--the girl was really dumb, but he really liked the way she walked, giggled, talked . . .
At the same time, I know that when you read a lot of books, the appearance matters. I'm not sure I've ever thought much about the fonts. I don't even know which fonts I like or don't like.
I wonder if there is winning font.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Going crazy
I am so far behind. I have this pile of envelopes and emails and details to get through, and no matter how far I get, I have so much more to do. This--the aftermath of travels I guess.
I just got an email from a review asking me for a bio note and so forth, but I thought they rejected my work. I don't exactly want to write and say, what poem? Are you sure you have the right poet?
It reminds me of the time a review took a poem with a title I didn't remember ever writing. And the review was one I didn't remember ever sending to . . .
No, I am not going crazy, I assure myself.
I just got an email from a review asking me for a bio note and so forth, but I thought they rejected my work. I don't exactly want to write and say, what poem? Are you sure you have the right poet?
It reminds me of the time a review took a poem with a title I didn't remember ever writing. And the review was one I didn't remember ever sending to . . .
No, I am not going crazy, I assure myself.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Traveling
I've been traveling too much lately. I've traveled so much, I'm starting to know which airport/airline treats you the best, worst, and other odd facts.
How the Akron Airport will change your reservation at the last minute to an earlier flight at no extra charge. They've even re-routed me just because they thought it might make for a smoother connection. Of course the downside is that there's nothing to do in if you happen to be stuck there. No place to buy a good book or cup of coffee, and there's Fox News on loud every place you sit. So I usually choose Pittsburgh over Akron, but Cleveland is the last choice every time.
Then there's the airlines. Like American that charges extra for baggage and tries to discourage you from carrying your luggage. They have this little metal cage to slide your bag into in order to determine if it fits in the overhead compartment. The ticket guy slid my bag into the metal cage last week, and then he couldn't get it out again.
I'm always interested in the airplane food, as well. US Air serves microwaved burgers if you're flying across the country at lunch. And a little salad that you don't want to unwrap because, for some reason, it has this amazing odor of fungicide.
I'm never sure which is worse--canned food or microwaved food. I remember eating canned hotdogs once when I was a child. ( Did I only imagine that? ) It seemed like everything came in a can, and it made you wonder how long ago it had died. A friend told me they used to serve canned burgers too. I'm not sure about that one. She said they were grey.
How the Akron Airport will change your reservation at the last minute to an earlier flight at no extra charge. They've even re-routed me just because they thought it might make for a smoother connection. Of course the downside is that there's nothing to do in if you happen to be stuck there. No place to buy a good book or cup of coffee, and there's Fox News on loud every place you sit. So I usually choose Pittsburgh over Akron, but Cleveland is the last choice every time.
Then there's the airlines. Like American that charges extra for baggage and tries to discourage you from carrying your luggage. They have this little metal cage to slide your bag into in order to determine if it fits in the overhead compartment. The ticket guy slid my bag into the metal cage last week, and then he couldn't get it out again.
I'm always interested in the airplane food, as well. US Air serves microwaved burgers if you're flying across the country at lunch. And a little salad that you don't want to unwrap because, for some reason, it has this amazing odor of fungicide.
I'm never sure which is worse--canned food or microwaved food. I remember eating canned hotdogs once when I was a child. ( Did I only imagine that? ) It seemed like everything came in a can, and it made you wonder how long ago it had died. A friend told me they used to serve canned burgers too. I'm not sure about that one. She said they were grey.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Texas
I'm flying to Texas tomorrow to see my friends, Karen Schubert and Salvatore Attardo, and to give a reading at Texas A&M University-Commerce. I don't know much about Texas, but it's snowing here, and I'm really looking forward to some warm, dry air and sunshine!
Friday, April 3, 2009
yo ma shower heads is droplets trumpets
trembyle.livejournal.com/
This is the funniest blog. I don't know who it belongs to . . . but scroll down to the heading--
yo ma shower heads is droplets trumpets
I've taken to watching this whenever I feel blue.
This is the funniest blog. I don't know who it belongs to . . . but scroll down to the heading--
yo ma shower heads is droplets trumpets
I've taken to watching this whenever I feel blue.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Review of the Reading
Sometimes people say things that are way too nice, as in the review below. But I do love to read it all the same. Sally Ashton is the best! And we had so much fun at the KGB. If you go to the BAP blog, you can see a video of us reading.
Nin Andrews & Sally Ashton: Last Night at KGB [by Megin Jimenez]
A Fine Night for the Living
The podium of the KGB Bar was graced with the presence of two audacious poetesses last night, Sally Ashton and Nin Andrews. Happy synergies between poets marked the evening in the form of prose poem play, persona pieces, and bursts of laughter from the crowd. Both are often funny, yes, but always with some bite.
Some highlights:
Ashton took us on her search for the real Sally Ashton, asking what’s in a name in so many ways. She introduced us to the myriad doppleganger Sally Ashtons of the internet, and pondered what a person is, exactly, on the Web. Technology surfaced subtly throughout her work, text messages following rapture, Confederate hoopskirts rubbing up against gas stations.
Having risked a student riot by refusing to deliver an orgasm (poem) at a recent reading, Andrews played it, er, safe this time, regaling us with the climactic Yes (in the voice of a kind of orgasm maven), as well as detailing the troubles of having a talking pussy, in a decidedly female tribute to the surreal and sexy boldness of Henri Michaux. With poems from Dear Professor, Do You Live in a Vacuum she gleefully took us to the absurd and metaphysical place the language of physics seems to long for.
We were also treated to a first taste of books-to-be. A lyric "I" circles and returns to the enigma of a haunting donkey’s voice in Ashton’s prose poem series, Her Name is Juanita (forthcoming from Kore Press). Andrews’ voice blossomed with a Southern twang in poems recalling the power of superstition and Catholic school health class, soon to appear in the collection Southern Comfort (from CavanKerry Press).
There was an eerie micro moment when Andrews described her father’s belief that every twenty minutes, we trade places with the dead (those moments when a group goes suddenly silent). The trade is necessary so the dead will be familiar when we meet them. The giggling crowd had just gone suddenly silent a moment earlier... If we did indeed trade places with the dead, it made the return to the living all the better, with a drink to follow in the red room and something warm and close in the air, made of words.
-- Megin Jimenez
Nin Andrews & Sally Ashton: Last Night at KGB [by Megin Jimenez]
A Fine Night for the Living
The podium of the KGB Bar was graced with the presence of two audacious poetesses last night, Sally Ashton and Nin Andrews. Happy synergies between poets marked the evening in the form of prose poem play, persona pieces, and bursts of laughter from the crowd. Both are often funny, yes, but always with some bite.
Some highlights:
Ashton took us on her search for the real Sally Ashton, asking what’s in a name in so many ways. She introduced us to the myriad doppleganger Sally Ashtons of the internet, and pondered what a person is, exactly, on the Web. Technology surfaced subtly throughout her work, text messages following rapture, Confederate hoopskirts rubbing up against gas stations.
Having risked a student riot by refusing to deliver an orgasm (poem) at a recent reading, Andrews played it, er, safe this time, regaling us with the climactic Yes (in the voice of a kind of orgasm maven), as well as detailing the troubles of having a talking pussy, in a decidedly female tribute to the surreal and sexy boldness of Henri Michaux. With poems from Dear Professor, Do You Live in a Vacuum she gleefully took us to the absurd and metaphysical place the language of physics seems to long for.
We were also treated to a first taste of books-to-be. A lyric "I" circles and returns to the enigma of a haunting donkey’s voice in Ashton’s prose poem series, Her Name is Juanita (forthcoming from Kore Press). Andrews’ voice blossomed with a Southern twang in poems recalling the power of superstition and Catholic school health class, soon to appear in the collection Southern Comfort (from CavanKerry Press).
There was an eerie micro moment when Andrews described her father’s belief that every twenty minutes, we trade places with the dead (those moments when a group goes suddenly silent). The trade is necessary so the dead will be familiar when we meet them. The giggling crowd had just gone suddenly silent a moment earlier... If we did indeed trade places with the dead, it made the return to the living all the better, with a drink to follow in the red room and something warm and close in the air, made of words.
-- Megin Jimenez
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