Many thanks to Jonathan Farmer and At Length Magazine for publishing several poems from a long sequence.

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I'm far behind in my NaPo'ing. Mostly, life happened as I had previously mentioned. Looks like weekends are kind of out when it comes to the drafting of poems. My third son is using my office as a sleeping area and the only time I've had to write was in the evenings, so more or less I've gotten booted from my work space. Can't wait for my exterior office to get finished . . .

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I've got a little blog post about my experience at last year's Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival. It was the first time that I had ever been to the festival, and I loved every minute of it. Only thing was I developed laryngitis. Anyway, you should read all about it here: CLICKY!

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Taking my customary weekend break from writing. 68 poems into the "Labyrinth" project and I think I'm waning a bit, so I may try to revisit a different project.

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It's definitely winter up in the Pacific NW. Gray, overcast, dark, rainy. Perfect reading and writing weather. Right now, I'm sitting in my office on campus watching undergrads run through wet piles of leaves on the Old Main lawn.

Knuckleheads.  ;-)

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Current Spin:

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Gratitude first.

Thanks to Meredith for taking the kids to daycare today and providing me with a day to write, read, and be.

She's always got her hand's full, but she's managed to handle all the rough patches with grace and dignity.

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As for the expectations, I've realized something about this current prose poem manuscript that I'm penning--I think I have the expectation that I'll be able to write my way out of it, but I'm starting to realize that I'm just as lost as my protagonist.

Usually the way I manage to end writing projects is when I decide to sit down and create a form for a manuscript, and usually that form rises out of a necessary understanding of the relationships between poems.

This project feels like a novella and not a poetry manuscript. This is okay with me, but I have an innate sense of perfectionism that wants it to be tidy. So what I clearly expect from the writing is for it to reveal its answers and tell me what is going to happen and what it is.

That probably ain't going to happen.

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I listened to a story yesterday about a minotaur called "Ziggaurat." It's by Stephen O'Connor. In many ways, that story showed me ways out of my own labyrinth. Credit where credit is due.

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Wrote a quick blog posting about my Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival Experience. It should be up on Friday. When it is, I'll post the link.

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Current Spin: