I know, there hasn't been much to see here lately. Sorry about that! I haven't fallen off the face of the earth or anything, I promise.
I've got a poem in the new issue of The Cortland Review. It's got a really cool photo on the front page of the issue.
The fourth-Friday-of-the-month poetry reading at the Runcible Spoon a couple nights ago was very nice. Five Women Poets, the group I'm in, were the featured readers (those of us who were in town anyway; Anya couldn't make it), along with a storyteller from the Bloomington Storytellers' Guild. Usually Patricia tries to have a musician or something to provide a little break from all the poetry, so this time it was a storyteller. Anyway, I opened by reading Gayle Brandeis' "Pear" because I think it is such a kick-ass poem that I really wanted to share it; I think I said her name three or four times to make sure people knew it wasn't my poem, heh. Then I read two car-crash poems, two jazz poems, and a Provincetown poem. The car-crash poems and one of the jazz poems were very very new, but they seemed to go over well, especially "So What" (one of the jazz ones). The person in charge of the new Bloomington Women's Writing Center caught up with me afterwards and asked if I would read a couple poems in their benefit concert next month, which was neat. It takes like three people to make the Spoon feel crowded, and there were maybe twenty people there, so it was a nice full house. And I had a lovely glass of pinot grigio. Maybe that's why I enjoyed the evening so particularly much. ;)
I enjoy readings. I'm not the best reader out there, certainly not the most dynamic performer, not (my five-foot-one pudgy middle-aged self) the sort of reader who commands the attention of everyone in the room the moment she stands up. But over the years I think I've learned how to more or less do the poems justice, and I don't get at all nervous about reading anymore, which is kind of weird considering I am relatively shy (yes, really) and not at all fond of public speaking. On Friday, after the featured readers, there was (as always) an open mic. There weren't too many participants this time -- three, I think -- and one of them reminded me so much of me when I was first starting out reading my stuff, when I was 19 years old or so. Actually if I'm not mistaken the first time I read was at an open-mic at the Cornucopia, a natural-foods restaurant in South Bend, when I was in high school, back in the late seventies. I don't remember much about it, which is probably a very good thing for my ego. *grin*
Good mail this week: got my copy of Susan B.A. Somers-Willett's Roam. I know Susan a bit from online, though I haven't met her, and am just tickled to death (now there's a middle-aged midwestern phrase for you!) to see her having some good success. Also, the cover is really cool. I look forward to spending some time with this book. And, I hope that reading a book by someone I kind of know will prod me in the direction of working on my own stinkin' book manuscript. I turn forty-five in a couple of months; maybe "get the stinkin' book manuscript together and start sending it out" should be my birthday resolution. I don't know if it will be any good, but at 45, I have to recognize that I don't have forever to do this if I'm gonna do it.
I thought I might have something more interesting to blog about, but I now have a Very Large Cat draped across my lap making it difficult to type on the laptop, plus he's purring so loud I can't hear myself think -- so I'll come back later if I think of anything.