Things

Reworking my syllabus from fall semester to spring semester. Why, you ask? Because Spring semester is two weeks shorter than Fall semester. Unfortunately, I had to cut out some poetry readings and eliminate my individual conferences. This makes me sad. But Spring is coming. Token new-semester excitement and nervousness setting in.

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Best New Poets has named their Guest Editor for 2009: Kim Addonizio. Since I was in this year's addition, I can't submit next year, but I know it will be great. She judged the poetry contest at River Styx this year. I was a finalist and she didn't pick any of my poems, but the ones that she did choose are remarkable. Anyone considering submitting to BNP might consider buying the prize issue of River Styx, if only to see what she likes, and even if you don't gain any insight, it's a great issue of a great magazine.

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Been reading W.D. Snodgrass' Not for Specialists: New and Selected Poems. I don't know if it's how he uses rhyme or what, but his stanzas feel so complete to me, at the same time open and encapsulated. One of my favorites, the final stanza from Lying Awake, describes a moth searching for light in the speaker's bedroom:

We'd ought to trap him in a jar,
Or come like the whitecoats with a net
And turn him out toward living. Yet
We don't; we take things as they are.


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Tomorrow has been designated by me as an outdoor adventure day. This means we're either going on a hike (probably McAfee's Knob) or driving up to Snowshoe to go skiing. I'm sort of hoping for the latter, despite the outrageous lift ticket prices ($75 bucks for a full day!, you kidding me!)

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Go ninja, go ninja, Go!

Chad Temples @ linebreak

Friend and former countryman Chad Temples has a poem up at linebreak. I remember him telling me about the poem when it was accepted (about 8 months ago). He told me it had lobster ovaries in it. I've been scouring the internet for Lobster ovary poems ever since. I believe his is the first and only.

Impressive Porch

So Shelley and I hiked up to Apple Orchard Falls on Friday, when temperatures crested 60 degrees. Unseasonably warm days are the bees-knees. I enjoy how that word looks on a blank page. I also like it when waterfalls freeze. Ice is pretty. Compound words are fun. These are deep philosophical truths. The world is not so complicated.

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Went to a Virginia Tech hockey game last night. That made me happy--though it was a far cry from the Cornell hockey games I used to go to with my Dad. They would throw toothpaste on the ice when they played Colgate. I think that's clever.

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Trying to get my self into gear for the rapidly approaching Spring semester. There is a syllabus to revise. Two book reviews (Brendan Galvin's Whirl is King and Mike Smith's How to Make a Mummy) to write for the Critic. Two collections of Selected Poems (Rodney Jones, James Tate) I'm determined to finish before things start back up. Plus, new poems. I wrote one today. It's about fishing. I don't particularly like fishing, but I do enjoy the idea of sitting around on a boat. That sentence is probably more artful than the actual poem. Word.

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This porch/bridge amazed me, right underneath the falls, about a two mile hike away from any roads. Through the woods no less. I want to build a bridge somewhere.

Left Side Chewing OR Life Post-Root Canal

So it's done. And it wasn't nearly as bad as I imagined it would be. The worst part really was keeping my mouth open that long--my jaw is pretty sore now. But the dentist assured me that my toothache should no longer be a problem--so long as I don't chew anything potentially mouth-shattering.

Wow...there are so many crude jokes lurking in this paragraph I don't know what to do with myself.

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I won the caption contest over at Avoiding the Muse! If that isn't a sign of good things to come in 2009, then I don't know what is...some credit should go to a the marathon television-watching sessions of my childhood as my caption was a hybrid of the Calvin Klein BE commercials and the Seinfeld episode where Kramer tries to pitch a cologne that smells like the beach. Prize is a $25 gift certificate to amazon--perfect for buying the books for Kelly Cherry's class on poetic-sequence. I'll let you know what she is having us read once I find out (tomorrow?), but maybe I'll splurge and get something that I want. Any poetry book recommendations?


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So I've hit a lull in my running. Without a race to train for, I haven't been able to push myself to go out on long runs (7-10 milers) in 30 degree weather. I'm considering my options: toughen up and get some leggings, join a gym and do the treadmill thing, OR take a break from running and start playing basketball again. I really miss playing basketball, whenever I was training for a race I wasn't really allowed to play b/c it wreaked hell on my ankles b/c they were no longer used to lateral movement (a phrase I now use far too often, such are the perils of marrying a physical therapist). Touring Gold's Gym tomorrow.

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*plish*

Things

Back in Roanoke for an extended period of time (finally). Cleveland was cold and snowy--it made me appreciate how nice it is to live in a state that doesn't get so cold and snowy.

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I was right. I'm having a root canal tomorrow. My endontist assures me it will only be uncomfortable. He says that anesthesia has come a long way. I do not trust my endontist.

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Still getting lots of rejections. Got a lovely note from the poetry editor of the Missouri Review (concindentally, her poem was on verse daily the day she emailed me) apologizing for keeping my submission so long and telling that they were considering me for a feature. It was a rejection, but man what a kind one. An incredible magazine to almost-make. Also a note on a rejection from New Orleans Review telling me to "Please Send Again." All this said, I still haven't had an acceptance for about 7 months. Put together five packets of relatively new poems to send out tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed, I feel as though with all this postivity floating around after the inaguration, something's got to hit soon...

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Saw Curious Case of Benjamin Button today. Not bad, not great. I probably would put it in the top ten new movies I've seen in the last 12 months, but I'm not sure that list is very prestigious. Brad Pitt did make me want to buy a new pair of sunglasses. And a motorcycle.

January

Hard to believe we're almost halfway through January. I've written a couple of new poems, but most of my time has been spent plowing through the skeleton of my thesis and re-order, line-editing, etc. Meeting with Cathy on Friday to discuss what I do next. I'm eager.

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I have a toothache. I've had a toothache for about two weeks. Tomorrow morning I'm going to the dentist and I'm sure it's going to suck. But it can't be worse than the toothache, but for some reason the phrase "root canal" keeps popping into my head. I'm not sure I even know what one is, but it was always talked about as the most ominous, painful procedure you could have done at the dentist. I'll be happy to have it done with though, and hopefully have some relief for the right side of my mouth.


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Do you like music? Then download this free EP. It's by a group of guys I went to college with who are all very cool and very talented: Anonymous.

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Reading: James Tate Selected Poems and Mike Smith How to Make a Mummy (reviewing it for the Critic)
Listening to: Wood Brothers Loaded

Home Again, Home Again

Back in Roanoke, for a moment. Thought I'd take the time to blog over a grilled cheese sandwich. Also, a grilled cheese secret: sprinkle some italian seasoning on the butter-side of the bread before grilling and you'll transform your boring old grilled cheese into a fancy gourmet garlic grilled cheese. This means you can charge 50 cents more when selling them at festivals. Check the market.

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Finished Anthony Doerr's About Grace. It's gorgeous. Hoping to read it again once I have time to be re-reading books. A sample:

"He began to dream of snow: ice glazing a parking meter; slush in the treads of Sandy's boots. There was the feeling of turning up blinds and seeing the whiteness of everything--snow on fence posts, snow limning branches--a banquet of light. He thought of his mother, and the way the mountains looked from the rooftop of his childhoood: shimmering, insubstantial as ghosts."

Moral of the story: find it, read it.

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Trying to write with this month off I have. It's been proving difficult as Shelley and I are moving around a lot. And I do find it hard to write when I'm away from my desk--but I've been reading a lot: Junot Diaz's Drown, James Tate's and Rodney Jones' Selected, and Stephen Dunn's Different Hours. It's nice to be reading lots of poetry again. I'm psyched for this semester as the only class I'm taking apart from workshopping my thesis is a class on poetic sequence taught by visiting writer Kelly Cherry. So apart from teaching short fiction to my students, my head will be drowning in poetry this semester. Don't get me wrong, I love to teach stories, it will just be nice to immerse myself in poetry with the thesis deadline looming.

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More interesting things to come once I discover them.