Lost in Transcription

Fleeing the snot-monster, to no avail...

2009-12-16T00:06:49Z

I'm on flare-up #3 of the sinus-infection-coughy-thing that our decaying, shortly-to-be-vacated house has inflicted upon me. I swear, the 28th can't arrive soon enough! I can only subdue this thing with drugs for so long. I'm tired of walking around in a Benadryl-induced haze. Meanwhile, teaching is over for the term, thank goodness, although I meet with my supervisors on Friday to determine whether or not my most recent overhaul of Chapter 3 is sufficient. Everything else is edited, final, tight. But this goddamn last chapter has thrown me for two loops now, and I'm praying it won't throw me for a third. Well, even if it does, we've set February 14th as my official submission date, and my viva, for which my external examiner has already been procured, will be scheduled in March. The truth lies somewhere between here and early February. I'm just not sure where.

The CMS annual Christmas Party is on Friday afternoon, right after my supervision. This means that I can go drink myself silly if the news is bad/frustrating/WTF. But I don't expect it to be. I felt good about this most recent edit, I really did. I dug in hard and made some incredibly bold statements in my conclusion, which I hope are warranted.

The highlight of the CMS party, as many of you know, is the yearly poetry competition (which I won in 2005, and then didn't bother to enter out of sheer laziness for the next several years). This year, instead, they decided to hold a medieval-lit-based Lonely Hearts Advert competition (hence my "glee and amusement" status message on Facebook last week).

You bet your ass I entered. It's time I attempted to reclaim my crown.

An Accounting of Saturday Night's Poetry Café Reading

2009-12-14T11:08:14Z

For starters, this description from Exiled Writers, Ink. conveys the setting much better than I can:

The Poetry Café in Covent Garden is a cosy place, a calm time-warp of clear-faced students, murmuring couples, tiny tables and red wine; poetry-related newspaper clippings adorn the wall.

The front door and window are frosted glass bearing the elegant insignia of The Poetry Society, which, as first sights go, is vaguely intimidating (remember, their magazine, Poetry Review, has rejected me about seven times to date). However, once you're inside, the description above is what hits you: the décor is understated, all worn wooden floors and loved, lived-in charm. Niall's event, The Cellar, takes place in, as you would have guessed, the basement level. Descending the stairs is a little surreal, as you're suddenly transported from a quiet neighborhood coffee-shop into a room resembling a mean average of every community theater green room you've ever seen. There are piles of brittle autumn leaves in several of the corners and casual graffiti all over the walls (PLEASE RETURN TROWEL ON LOAN), some of it in Latin (TAKE A CARD, SEND A POEM—and its Latin translation, which I forget off the top of my head and am unwilling to reconstruct right now, bad medievalist that I am). There's also a pencil-sketch of a medieval rose-window that looks like an incomplete mason's draft. There's a rickety microphone at the front and about thirty or forty chairs set up for the audience. Needless to say, I was charmed.

First off, Niall is a brilliant host. He's got an informal, easy wit and a diverting obsession with monkeys (no, really: the poem he read at the start of the second half, just before I went on, had to do with evolution). Anyway, there were four of us on the program: Dominic O'Rourke and Raymond Antrobus in the first half, and then me and John Anstiss in the second. As you can see, we made for quite a kaleidoscope of voices! The common thread, though, was that all three of those guys were absolutely excellent. Niall has eclectic, sterling taste in poets.

The audience was small—perhaps only twenty people, of whom my acquaintance fyrefly101 and her visiting friend, Emily, were just two. But here's the thing: they were hooked. It's clear to me that the advantage to having a long-established venue such as this is, of course, the obvious draw for poetry-ravenous folk. I've been reading for long enough now to know what a disconnected audience feels like, and this was the very opposite of disconnected. I got more physical with my reading than I usually do; I caught myself reaching for them. And, at the end, they reached back—to all of us. I bought John Anstiss's chapbook, and he gave me the loveliest inscription. I don't know, the whole room just felt sort of warm and euphoric after all that verse. I gave away a goodly number of flyers telling people where they can purchase Devil's Road Down and left the remainder on the shelf with the Poetry Society's free postcards. Even if they rot with the old leaves, I'll be happy.

(In other words: Niall, I'll come back anytime!)

Several things:

2009-12-13T00:42:54Z

* I'm in London, at a friend's brother's flat, having read earlier this evening at the Poetry Café in Covent Garden as part of Niall O'Sullivan's monthly event, The Cellar. Fantastic times were had, and I will post about this in more detail on Monday, once I'm back in York.

* Your holiday cards have been arriving in droves. Thank you all! ♥

Weird, wonderful, and decidedly awesome:

2009-12-10T01:58:27Z

Anna Gustafsson Chen wrote to the editors of Expanded Horizons asking if she could translate my recently published story, Lady of the Lake, into Swedish and post it to her blog. I think that this is an excellent idea, especially given that I have so many friends who do speak Swedish and various other Scandinavian/Nordic languages. I'll link to it when the translation is completed and posted.

ETA: Interestingly enough, I have been translated into Swedish once before. It was ages ago. The English version posted there is not the original, but Emma's English translation of her Swedish adaptation.

Shadow

Once upon a time in suburban Massachusetts,
late February mornings felt like autumn.
She decided this behind her green hood, walking
with eyes alert, askance, for ice, her companion.

She finds slipping a ridiculous thought
and vows not to do it. She glances aside as if
someone listens to her silence-that's-not-silence,
smiling at the chill, lips stirring the trilled air.

She is not a princess, but her behavior
suggests that something about this scene is amiss.
In the constant, restless flick of her eyes, some shape
finds a somber outline of humanity.

Once upon a time, she contemplated a shortcut,
but her shadow refused. Silent, he said, stay with me.

—February 2004. This poem has never been published, and for good reason; it's a weak piece by my present standards! I had feared this piece lost, but found it in my archives.

Reading poetry in London: I could really get used to this!

2009-12-08T00:09:02Z

So, for the third time in four weeks, I'm coming down to London to read poetry at people! Here are the details for this time around:

The Cellar
Saturday, 12 December
7:30 PM, Poetry Café, 22 Betterton Street, Covent Garden

Evening event celebrating what is currently brilliant about the poetry scene bringing together written & performance poetry and nurturing new talent. Hosted by Niall O'Sullivan. £4/£3 on the door.

*

I also got an email this evening inviting me to submit some work to the Other Voices International Poetry Project. After having a look at the site, I responded with a resounding yes. Please do check it out; it's a worthwhile project!

*

Also, to the folks who sent me those five beautiful snowflakes? Thank you ♥

Two amazing poetry-book recommendations:

2009-12-06T21:50:20Z

* American Means, by D.E. Oprava

* Little Gods, by Jacob Polley

Mr. Oprava is either William Langland or Walt Whitman for a new age. I'm not sure which; more likely he's a bit of both. Mr. Polley, on the other hand, is (I suspect) some runaway bit of my own soul.

And you thought my weird-news tag was crazy...

2009-12-05T11:17:53Z

First, Asia brought you purple Chinese space potatoes.

Now, it brings you JAPANESE SPACE BEER!

Riff-raff, updates, & etc.

2009-12-05T01:13:43Z

For those of you who requested holiday postcards from me: as of today, they've all been stamped, watercolored, written, addressed, and sent out. For those of you on my side of the Atlantic, I must apologize for any coloring wonkiness; I didn't figure out the optimal drying-time for the stamping ink until I hit the U.S./Canada batch, and therefore the black mixed in a bit with the green and blue. I'm kind of miffed at this, but I think you'll understand what I was trying to do.

Secondly, erzebet has made a lovely post about her upcoming Papaveria edition of my "Journeying," which is part of a sequence of posts about upcoming releases. Seriously, I'm not going to be able to restrain myself. These books promise to be beautiful both inside and out! Others will feature the likes of alankria and tithenai.

December Poetry Feature

2009-12-02T10:50:40Z

With many thanks to Marie Lecrivain, I'm not only one of this month's Featured Poets on Poetic Diversity, but also their Center Stage interview feature. So, without further ado:

* Two poems: "Changeling" and "Grave Goods"

* Interview (prompted by Marie's having chanced upon Devil's Road Down)

DRD has been getting excellent reviews, when and as I find them. I'm tickled pink!

Today, all good things are RED. Such as:

2009-12-01T13:26:43Z

* Red Leicester (BEST ENGLISH CHEESE EVAR!)

* Red cabbage (with bacon, which is kind of reddish)

* My new red shirt with Emma Goldman stenciled on (by KMStitchery)

As you were...

I have a 140-character story live at Thaumatrope:

2009-11-29T23:43:59Z

Paris, After

The Top 20 Unfortunate Lessons Girls Learn from Twilight:

2009-11-28T23:54:18Z

In addition to reading the article, watch the remix-clip spoof reel at the beginning. I almost want to see these just to MST3K them!

ETA: Feminism Doesn't Sparkle: What Twilight Teaches Young Girls

You must watch this:

2009-11-28T11:42:06Z

This is a good example of why I've always loved National Geographic! I really must see about a subscription once we're in Leeds...

London Diary

2009-11-26T23:11:06Z

SpeechMotion attendance on Tuesday evening was primarily restricted to a small handful of locals, lifegivingsword, snowballjane, and my Flipped Eye colleague Camilla Reeve. Add an over-boisterous, constantly scampering-about dog to the event starting late and...yes. I think everybody does that gig once in their life. Also, we had a devil of a time finding the Horse & Groom; in the process, we ended up walking from Whitechapel to Shoreditch via Brick Lane in the rain.

Yesterday: the Tate Modern. James and I had never gone before, so we decided to give it a try. About the only wing I really enjoyed was the one thematically titled Poetry & Dream. Otherwise, I came away somewhat unimpressed. Dammit, where are they hiding the Chagall paintings that their website claims they have?

MESSAGE TO THOSE WHO REQUESTED HOLIDAY CARDS: I picked up a bunch of blank sketchbook postcards at the Tate gift shop and decided I'm going to draw or stamp designs onto them myself. I beg pardon for any artistic lameness that may result!

Off to London for tonight's SpeechMotion poetry guest appearance...

2009-11-24T10:07:48Z

...at the Horse & Groom, 26 Curtain Rd., Shoreditch - 7:00 PM. Perhaps I'll see you there! I'll be gone for two days. We're visiting snowballjane, who is kindly putting us up.

I just installed this, and I love the results:

2009-11-23T19:01:17Z

DoGooder: blocks annoying in-page web adverts and replaces them with links to worthwhile causes/ethical, economical, and environmentally friendly living tips/etc.

Okay, this is freaky and kind of awesome:

2009-11-23T17:11:08Z

Galileo's missing fingers found in a jar

Lost Books Editing, Round Two

2009-11-22T14:59:46Z

It's taken up most of today, but now that I've finished re-ordering and working in Nii's editorial suggestions, I feel just as proud of the way this book is going to turn out as I feel about how Devil's Road Down turned out. Additionally, we've added about four or five thematically relevant newer poems (a couple of which first appeared in Dead Zones).

PSA

2009-11-20T18:19:02Z

Today is the Eleventh Annual Transgender Day of Remembrance.

Midnight Echo 3 is now available in PDF...

2009-11-18T11:01:51Z

...and should be hitting the newsstands in Australia within the week!

I have to say, I've had a look through my contributor's PDF, and the layout? IS ABSOLUTELY STUNNING. I don't think I've seen a magazine with such amazing and amazingly presented content in a very long time. I'm thrilled it's going to be available in print, too, because I'm going to want a couple of copies. "The Monsters of Notre-Dame" and "Five Secret Selves" could not have found a better home.

(highlyeccentric and goblinpaladin, this should be especially accessible to you.)

In other news, I have an announcement that's way overdue, given the contract's been signed for at least a couple of months now. erzebet will be producing an edition of my Mythic Delirium 20 poem, "Journeying," as an upcoming Papaveria Press edition. The illustrations will be done by twilightgardens. I'm especially pleased that Pai is involved in this project! Her art is sublime, and well suited to medieval subject matter.

Also: I have a few new poems live in the November issue of Chantarelle's Notebook.

My Single Nebula-Eligible Short Story & Eligible Works by Others

2009-11-17T22:55:41Z

By some miracle, I have one story that's eligible for Nebula nomination. "Answer Me" was published in June 2009 in the Needles & Bones anthology from Drollerie Press. Sadly, it's not accessible for free (although I can still be persuaded to give away a copy of the PDF in exchange for a review of the collection on your blog - or, as cathschaffstump so put it: While it's not available for free, if you're really a SFWA member who's considering it for nomination, I'll get it to you).

Along more helpful lines, tithenai has made a post outlining and linking to Nebula's nomination guidelines, as well as listing eligible works by herself and others. Spread the word!

We got the Leeds flat!

2009-11-17T12:12:33Z

The move will likely take place somewhere between Christmas and New Year's. Either that or the first week of January, if we can't find someone with a car who's available over the holidays.

It's Weird Movies Week, apparently.

2009-11-16T14:55:35Z

On Saturday evening, I saw ~~Men Who Stare At Owls~~ The Fourth Kind. It wasn't spectacular, but it didn't completely suck, either. In fact, I think it's curiously effective in making you second-guess your perception of the story even though you know that the "true" framework on which it claims to be based is equally as fabricated as the "dramatization."

Yesterday, on DVD: What the Bleep Do We Know? Dodgy Quantum Physics, annoying animation, and actually very good explanation of how the human brain works with respect to addictions and emotions. Also, it's not often that you see a deaf protagonist! Overall, this one's odd.

This is incredibly awesome:

2009-11-15T14:26:41Z

Purple Patch Small Press Best-Of Lists 2009

If you scroll down to Best Anthologies of 2009, you'll see one called The Exhibitionists from Stairwell Books. It was published by my colleages, Rose and Alan, as an anthology of those of us who read regularly at the Exhibition Hotel event in York (Spoken Word, not to be confused with the one of which I'm co-host, which is Speakers' Corner at the Yorkshire Terrier). A lovely little honor for us all!

Poetry Sale & Flat-Finding News

2009-11-14T17:39:32Z

I've sold my creepy fairytale-centric ghazal, "What They Know," to time_shark's guest-edited issue of Goblin Fruit. I am especially pleased about this, as the whole swap venture is awesome!

We've found a flat in Leeds. Or, rather, we've applied for one we saw today! Here's hoping we get it. I think it's perfect.