What An Artist Can Do

It has been eighteen years since I have held residency in Boston. And yet I still feel violated. I lived there at a very significant point in my life. It was after the sadness of a divorce five years earlier had morphed into inspiration; when I met good friends who convinced me that I was, indeed, a poet; when childhood dreams of living and working in Boston had come true; and, ultimately, when I met the wonderful woman who would become my wife.

The first explosion occurred barely a block from the music store we both worked at. The concept of a ‘music store’ is an anachronism that can not be overlooked, largely because this kind of life, this world we live in now, makes the mid-90′s seem like a giant anachronism. I and several co-workers probably ambled out to the sidewalk, trying to catch a glimpse of the elite runners making it to the finish line. I was standing there, so many years before the madness.

I accept the fact that I am older now, not nearly as bohemian, responsible, with a consideration toward “selling out” more so now than back then. I understand the importance of the impact of 9/11 and how this time in history has specific protocols and procedures. On the opposite side of 50, I hold life more dear than ever before and recognize its frailty.

And yet I still feel violated.

I can not continue to absorb any of the media, whether it is news, talk, sports, online, Twitter feeds, Facebook posts. I do not care to allow political heads thump chests in front of me nor do I desire to consider the financial repercussions. Jewish, Christian, Buddhist, Dudeist — none of them have anything new or different to say that has not already been said after Columbine or Waco or Oklahoma City or NYC.

I’m waiting for the painters and poets and singers and writers to make sense of things. I’m waiting for the only group that can reach down into the ultimate depths of humanity, into the pits of depravity, behind the clouds of depression, and raise us to the heights of a blessed light. I’m holding my breath for the first song or stanza or canvas to portray strength and hope and love, words that do not need capital letters because they already stand apart from the other words. A tune or lyric or sculpture will carry me forward and renew my faith.

That’s what an artist can do.

After the Meeting…

It seems I’m not the only one who is “jazzed” after a meeting with other writer’s. This past Saturday was the monthly meeting of the KWA and afterward a secondary meeting of those interested in or members of the new Indie Writers Alliance.

Discussions are profuse and lively and at times stray from pure discussions of writing and the business thereof. Considering it takes a life filled with experiences to be a writer, it is acceptable to deviate.

I find myself taking feverish notes in longhand and hoping that I can read my own handwriting afterwards. I write down websites, email address, brief words and phrases, anything and everything that made an impression for future use, review or research.

And I’m not alone. On the KWA’s Facebook page there were several comments of the same ilk. You see, writers can not work or live or exist in a vacuum. Yes, writing is a solitary craft, a lonely art. But in the end, we write not for ourselves but to put our work “out there.” And it is highly gratifying to read later that the people who I have just shared ideas with feel in essence the same way.

I recall, some sixteen plus years ago, when I was immersed in the Boston poetry scene, talking with a young man in perhaps his early twenties. I asked him who he read. He responded that he didn’t read any other poets so as not to influence his thoughts and mood. I don’t know about you, but the words “Bull” and “Malarkey” come into my mind when I hear such nonsense. We are not islands. We absorb and experience everything that is around us. We can learn from those who came before us, in one fashion or another, whether by assimilating or rebelling. But we definitely can not create outside of the influence of all else.

I relish the opportunities that being a member of a writer’s group have afforded me. And I can’t wait until what might transpire after the NEXT meeting.

Poetry Collections now available

I finalized the proof copies of my two poetry collections and slightly re-did the cover of one.

Ornithology, and other Jazz Poems is a poetic rendering on the life and music of Charlie “Bird” Parker. It is an attempt to assimilate the musical stylings of be-bop into a literary form. I received some encouraging feedback from Peg Nichols of the KAC (Kansas Authors Club). She suggested I try to get a reading done at the American Museum of Jazz up in Kansas City. The suggestion alone gives both myself and the piece a renewed sense of life.

{Peg’s blog, Kansas Plains People focuses on the writing life of Kansans. It touches closer to home for me.}

In The Art of Legerdemain, the life of a Magician is compared in counterpoint to the life of a Poet. Both create illusions out of seemingly nothing; both attempt to awe and dazzle their audience; and both wonder whether their works will have any lasting influence. It is, in essence, a literary autobiography of a period in my life from the late 80′s to the mid 90′s when there were both personal and artistic changes and transformations.

It is amazing to me to consider that the only possibility to put these collections out 20 years ago was via a printed chapbook. Perhaps this is the contemporary digital version of that. I am more proud of my efforts in getting these published in this particular forum. It shows that you CAN teach an old dog some new tricks.

Poetry Collections

I just got my proof copies of the two poetry collections I put together on Lulu. They are currently in PRIVATE status. I’ve learned (after many mistakes) to not make them available until they are satisfactory.

My wife (my editor) was reviewing them last night and was impressed. She says she is not much of a poetry reader but I think that makes her a better judge of the work. Too often, people who “know” poetry might have pre-conceived notions of what it is supposed to be.

In the meantime I am showing the covers which I am quite happy with.

Ornithology is a poetic interpretation on the life of Charlie “Bird” Parker and his influence on jazz music. It was attempt to incorporate the rhythms of be-bop into a verse form. There are other Jazz Poems that are included, written in the early 1990′s when classic jazz music was a major influence in my artistic life. (Now, of course, I am the Tikiman and focus on Lounge Music and Martinis.)

The Art of Legerdemain is a collection of poems using the concept of the Poet as Magician. Both create illusions seemingly out of nothing. Both dig deep into the Spiritus Mundi. Both have doubt whether anything they do will have any lasting influence. These were written during the mid-1990′s and I have my dear friend, Joe Gallo, to thank for the many discussions we had regarding poetry and life. (Can anyone guess where the cover design came from?)

When the final editing is down and the pieces are ready for public consumption, I will advise accordingly.

Skating on Ice versus Swimming in the Lake

Since 2007, there has been a flurry of writing activity for me.

I have participated in NaNoWriMo, that madcap literary dash to the finish, writing (scribing, transcribing, composing, etc.) 50,000 words on a “novel” within the month of November. And I have successfully completed this event in each of the last four years. I put it aside for the month of December and then begin the new year with a rewrite, editing, polish, etc. But not really.

After a profoundly interesting meeting of the Kansas Writer’s Association in May 2009, I realized many things that I did not know about networking and blogging and self-publishing with POD services, etc. So, I got business cards, started this blog, found two short novels of mine ripe for publication and set to the task of networking. But not really.

With my wife’s help, I reorganized the office, separated personal from writing, and got myself in a position to take care of household needs separate from literary ones. But not really.

Since 2007, I’ve been only touching the surface of these things, skating on a thin layer of ice, polishing the impressions while fearful of falling and losing ground. I should have been diving into the warmth of a lake in summer, splashing around, unafraid of getting wet or staying out too late.

I wrote recently of having lost notes regarding a novel I was still working on in first draft. It occurred to me that perhaps this was a wake up call to go slower, refocus the efforts on work that needs more attention. I need to take some pieces that are good but not great, interesting but not fascinating, entertaining but not must-read and flesh them out and bring them to a truer point of completion.

So, whereas my 2011 Writing Goals shows that I wanted to work on two new pieces, I am revising even that. My focus will be on three works (perhaps a fourth) that will undergo extreme scrutiny and finer revision. I will slow down the train of the agent search before I derail myself. I will place unwavering attention on the skill and the craft and the art.

I will finalize two poetry collection manuscripts for publication on Lulu only because, well, they’re poetry and the whole idea of Lulu for poetry reminds me of when everyone was putting out their work in chapbooks.

It’s winter time. we just had a snowstorm here in the Wichita, KS area and we got about 7-9 inches of snow. That’s the real world. As far as my writing is concerned, I’m going to go swimming in the lake for a while.

A Poetry Collection

I have put together a collection of jazz themed poems and am finalizing it on Lulu.com
The time was right to do so for a number of reasons. First of all, I wanted to honor, so to speak, the other elements of my literary interests. I haven’t written any new poetry of any value for nearly fifteen years. A combination poetry/spoken word piece based on the life of Charlie Parker is the central work of the collection. Most of the poems are from 1992-1994.
Second, there are two gentleman that I work with who seem spectacularly interesting in an artistic fashion. One is Jeremi who I have mentioned as the inspiration for my 2010 NaNoWriMo piece, Professor Thug. The other is Jared, who goes by Esper in the digital world. He is a poet, musician, and digital artist. For a while I have been intensely working on acquiring an agent and getting published and seemed to lost touch with the social and communal aspects of art and artists. (Which reminds me: I need to find a critique group here in Wichita and start attending REGULARLY.)
And third, Jennifer Neri’s recent post made me realize that blogging is another viable venue for putting out your work, reading the work of others and praising their achievements.
So, manuscript is uploaded, cover and back design created, photos determined, almost ready to be unveiled.
BUT…I will wait for the proof copy before that event.
And, continued thanks to Jennifer Neri for posts like that one. Because it does remind us that we are NOT alone out there. People DO read. People DO take note. Our efforts are NOT wasted.

Honorable Mention

Why do we enter contests? In most cases it is for substantial financial gain. The Publisher’s Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, for one, promises rewards and emotion-laden publicly televised winners.
When it comes to literary contests, that is not the case. In fact, most literary contests on average offer small financial compensation and recognition only within a small community of the artistically interested.
Therefore, if you are graced with the epithet ‘Honorable Mention’, consider yourself a winner. Consider the phrase itself. Out of the countless contest entrants, you deserved a Mention. And not only that but an Honorable one.
You may not receive a plaque or certificate as the winners. You will more than likely receive nothing in terms of financial compensation. But your work was of an ilk deserving of some kind of recognition.
In the gigantic world of publishing, traditional and electronic, the vast array of literary agents and editors, the enormous worldwide counting of scribes both of fiction and non-fiction and poetry and essay and memoir, consider yourself worthy if you receive an Honorable Mention.
You may not be standing on the podium but you have elevated yourself above the crowd.

Poetry Submission Now Online

To all followers:

My poem “9 November 1938″ is now available at poeticamagazine.com under the HOLOCAUST tab.  Even if you are not Jewish, the Holocaust resonates with most sane individuals as one of history’s greatest tragedies.  My work discusses the horror of an event known as “Kristallnacht” or “Crystal Night” when Jewish homes and businesses were ransacked and destroyed and all the glass was shattered.

The other poems under this tab share sentiments of pain and suffering and yet I find a glimmer of hope.  In any dark time, there needs to be hope.  We can only hope such a tragedy will never happen again.

I also thank Facebook because I found the magazine in their midst, perused their website, and offered some submissions.  This old guy who used to frequent coffee houses and bars in Boston to commiserate with fellow poets has now found a new form of social networking.

Thanks, so far, to those of you who have followed this blog because you have been equally motivational and deserve the appropriate kudos.

Poetry Submission

My poem “9 November 1938″ was accepted for Poetica Magazine’s (poeticamagazine.com) online Holocaust edition.  More details to follow.

Writing Competitions (and whether they have any value to your life as a writer)

I recently entered the Kansas Writer’s Association’s 2009 Creative Writing Competition, one that I had had some success with in the past.  For the most part, my entries had been fifteen year old + poems of some note and/or interest and one or two short stories, largely undeveloped.

This year I entered the first chapter of my largely transgressive novel “Weekend Getaways, or Adventures in Contract Killing.”  I didn’t expect it to win, place, or show, nor even get an honorable mention.  What I found disquieting were the comments included in the critique.  It seems that experimental or non-traditional forms don’t set too well with staid minds who are used to generic writing and commercialized forms.  This is to be expected.

A Writing organization of this ilk in this part of the country prefers their writers, it would seem to be more “traditional”.  After thirty plus years of writing and having really only recently found my “voice”, the word traditional does not have a place in my fingertips as they hit the keyboard.

“Too internal to be engaging”.  I wonder if the judge has read Notes from Underground or As I Lay Dying.

Some of this colorful but novel needs action”.  Madame Bovary contains some fairly elaborate detail and does not bring to mind the word “action”.

This is merely sniveling on my part.  I consider the piece (now in its fourth draft) to be some of the finest work I have put on paper and my response is more of a knee-jerk reaction.  There are other literary contests out there.  And more importantly, there are individual groups, book clubs, writers critiquing groups, etc, where the development of a story can be more substantial.

I missed going to the banquet.  The dinner would have been worthwhile as well as the camaraderie.  AND I will continue to enter more KWA contests.  AND I will enter this particular piece of fiction somewhere else where it will be accepted.  There IS an audience, a readership, someone out there who will value the work.

« Older entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 734 other followers