Summer’s on its way

…but naturally, my wardrobe has yet to adjust to new circumstances (I’m wearing a jacket today, for God’s sake!). Having said that, though, some news on the poetry front. As far as my own stuff goes, there was a gratifyingly positive review of my book in the latest Iota, which almost, temporarily makes up for the fact that last year’s roll where the magazines are concerned has not continued this year. Oh, some acceptances here and there, but…

Enough! It’s the same damn story as always.

As far as shitty readings go, on the other hand, there was a launch of a neighborhood literary ‘zine at a bar about four blocks from where I live, and I figured, “How bad can it be?” I’ll confess to drifting out the back about a third of the way in, but let’s just say that a bunch of lineated prose written by bicurious hipsters about their sexual identities isn’t quite my thing. I’m not by any means saying that there’s anything wrong with being bicurious, though there probably is something wrong with being a hipster, but the experience was less confessional than that moment when you sneak a peak at your sister’s diary and realize that she really isn’t up to all that much after all. And they had the microphone right near the door, so with the other hipsters in attendance, slipping out the door was simply impossible. And I had stuff to do the next day, so I couldn’t even deal with being trapped in the worst reading I’ve seen in ages by getting roaring drunk. So I headed to the back patio and got mildly tipsy. Which just wasn’t enough.

I couldn’t help but wonder, though, why such magazines exist. The “publisher” was enlightening in that regard. He was one of those guys who takes a bunch of workshops and wants to be a writer but… never seems to write anything, and, in order to get himself and his friends to write, started a magazine. Unfortunately, however groovy the life of a New York writer might seem, sometimes the lack of inspiration itself is telling you something, that not everyone should write, and if you aren’t feeling the inspiration to do so, trust your instincts.

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1 Comment »

  1. paraglider said

    You said – {and if you aren’t feeling the inspiration to do so, trust your instincts}. I’m with you on that. I’m writing quite a lot these days, but none of it is poetry. The notion might come back, or it might not. I can’t force it, though I probably will, as an experiment.
    – Dave McC

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