i can't believe i forgot to post it, but back in April my Florida Gators basketball team won the NCAA Tournament. it was a very exciting time in the Barrett household, let me tell you.
anyway, a few more months of summer drudgery before football season begins. i only hope we have half the success our basketball team had. that's a lie, i hope we have more than half, but you know what i mean.
02 June 2006
01 June 2006
savage heavens
Christopher Cunningham has been gracious enough to ask me to contribute more regularly to his own great blog, Upright Against The Savage Heavens. in that vein, i've decided to write a weekly column, Background Noise, that will be posted every Sunday.
I've posted the first installment, a introduction, and will put up the very first real column this Sunday.
Funk Soul Brother Check It Out, Now!
I've posted the first installment, a introduction, and will put up the very first real column this Sunday.
Funk Soul Brother Check It Out, Now!
surfing the web
so, i was out there surfing from link to link on various literary websites and i came across one i had never seen before.
Plagiarist Poetry
there are numerous articles and poetic analysis, and it sports a magazine. but, it's the articles that intrigued me most. there are plenty to choose from, from a host of categories including: individual poets, the art of writing, reading poetry, among others.
there is a fabulous set of letters from a young fan and writer to Ranier Maria Rilke that is worth its weight in gold. beautiful stuff.
anyway, thought it was a great site worthy of a mention. now, i gotta get back to reading about the art of writing.
Plagiarist Poetry
there are numerous articles and poetic analysis, and it sports a magazine. but, it's the articles that intrigued me most. there are plenty to choose from, from a host of categories including: individual poets, the art of writing, reading poetry, among others.
there is a fabulous set of letters from a young fan and writer to Ranier Maria Rilke that is worth its weight in gold. beautiful stuff.
anyway, thought it was a great site worthy of a mention. now, i gotta get back to reading about the art of writing.
31 May 2006
apartment life is hell
you are suddenly awoken by the deep, guttural throttle of a humongous, diesel truck. GAGUHGAGUHGAGUH. headlights pierce your bedroom window; lighting everything as if it were the middle of the day; throwing shadows into the dark recesses of the room. GAGUHGAGUHGAGUH. it's 12:07am. you roll over, trying to ignore it. trying to sleep through it.
the inconsiderate prick taps the gas, revving the engine. the frequency of the gurgling increases, then slowly drops. he does it again. you look at your clock. it's 12:14am and your alarm is set to go off in less than 6 hours. GAGUHGAGUHGAGUH. it continues. endlessly.
apartment life is getting old. very old. i actually don't mind living in apartments made from old houses, or even townhome apartments, but these gigantic apartment complexes with 12 families per stairwell and 3 stairwells per building, and 30-40 buildings in the complex is just insane. For those who don't want to do the math in their head, that's somewhere in the neighborhood of 1000 to 1500 families per complex. the average family in Utah is 5 people (some areas that's as high as 7, AVERAGE. no kidding!) which means upwards of 5000 people in this one fucking complex. jesus christ. and with the considerate:inconsiderate ratio being at about 25:75, that makes a whole helluva lot of fucking people who just don't give a shit about anyone else.
to make matters worse, the family above us (the ones who got up early on Sunday mornings (see earlier rants)) moved out, to our great elation; however, another family, less considerate than the first, moved in and, apparently, are unaware (or just don't care) that people live below them. their terror of a child runs and bangs and throws shit all day and night long. the parents are constantly slamming doors and, for some reason, have a fixation on the goddamn sliding glass door (which we can hear loud and clear as it is being opened and closed). i can only imagine them being some form of subhuman, country bumpkin living in the city for the first time and enamored by the special, rolling door leading to their porch.
anyway, sorry about my rants. i'm just tired of waiting on this infernal house.
i looked back and noticed that my last post about the house was in January, and we had just had our foundation poured, but no framing yet. well, fast-forward 4 months and we have framing, walls, plumbing/electrical/insulation, drywall, and wall texturing. next time we hear from them (or go to visit it) we should have paint and they should be beginning tiling and carpet.
at least we're on our way. even if it is 4 months later than we were told.
the inconsiderate prick taps the gas, revving the engine. the frequency of the gurgling increases, then slowly drops. he does it again. you look at your clock. it's 12:14am and your alarm is set to go off in less than 6 hours. GAGUHGAGUHGAGUH. it continues. endlessly.
apartment life is getting old. very old. i actually don't mind living in apartments made from old houses, or even townhome apartments, but these gigantic apartment complexes with 12 families per stairwell and 3 stairwells per building, and 30-40 buildings in the complex is just insane. For those who don't want to do the math in their head, that's somewhere in the neighborhood of 1000 to 1500 families per complex. the average family in Utah is 5 people (some areas that's as high as 7, AVERAGE. no kidding!) which means upwards of 5000 people in this one fucking complex. jesus christ. and with the considerate:inconsiderate ratio being at about 25:75, that makes a whole helluva lot of fucking people who just don't give a shit about anyone else.
to make matters worse, the family above us (the ones who got up early on Sunday mornings (see earlier rants)) moved out, to our great elation; however, another family, less considerate than the first, moved in and, apparently, are unaware (or just don't care) that people live below them. their terror of a child runs and bangs and throws shit all day and night long. the parents are constantly slamming doors and, for some reason, have a fixation on the goddamn sliding glass door (which we can hear loud and clear as it is being opened and closed). i can only imagine them being some form of subhuman, country bumpkin living in the city for the first time and enamored by the special, rolling door leading to their porch.
anyway, sorry about my rants. i'm just tired of waiting on this infernal house.
i looked back and noticed that my last post about the house was in January, and we had just had our foundation poured, but no framing yet. well, fast-forward 4 months and we have framing, walls, plumbing/electrical/insulation, drywall, and wall texturing. next time we hear from them (or go to visit it) we should have paint and they should be beginning tiling and carpet.
at least we're on our way. even if it is 4 months later than we were told.
30 May 2006
rejections/acceptances
in the past 4 months, these are the rejections/acceptances i've received:
--i was rejected by a Hurricane Katrina anthology put out by Southeast Missouri State called: Hurricane Blues. oh well. i should know better than to expect to crack an academic mag.
--i received an acceptance for 2 poems to appear in an issue of remark. edited by a contributor to this blog, Chris Kornacki.
--i received a rejection from The Knoxville Writer's Guild for an anthology they are publishing. the rejection said they are seeking subs from East Tennessee writers only. again, wrong place at the wrong time.
i haven't submitted much over the past 6 months, so there isn't really much to report. i recently sent a submission out to Nerve Cowboy and i'll update about the verdict when it comes in.
--i was rejected by a Hurricane Katrina anthology put out by Southeast Missouri State called: Hurricane Blues. oh well. i should know better than to expect to crack an academic mag.
--i received an acceptance for 2 poems to appear in an issue of remark. edited by a contributor to this blog, Chris Kornacki.
--i received a rejection from The Knoxville Writer's Guild for an anthology they are publishing. the rejection said they are seeking subs from East Tennessee writers only. again, wrong place at the wrong time.
i haven't submitted much over the past 6 months, so there isn't really much to report. i recently sent a submission out to Nerve Cowboy and i'll update about the verdict when it comes in.
29 May 2006
i forgot
to mention what kind of things, poetically speaking, i've received lately.
my buddy Glenn W. Cooper has book of poetry, a joint-chap with Michael Estabrook, out with Nerve Cowboy's Liquid Paper Press, titled methinks i see my father. i've not seen the book yet (though it's in the mail), but i have been priviledged to see the poetry and artwork and, trust me folks, this is going to be one helluva fucking book. do yourself a favor and pick this up. for $6 it's a deal.
my buddy (mentioned in the previous post) Christopher Cunningham has a new chapbook of poems and letters (And Still The Night Left To Go: Poems and Letters) coming out soon by Bottle of Smoke Press. I received a small broadside of one of the poems the other day. Simply brilliant. This book will be amazing. If you've not had the pleasure of sitting back on a cold evening, drinking a beer, maybe some Miles Davis or Rachael Yamagata on the stereo, reading one of Mr. Cunningham's letters, then you've truly missed out. i'll update when the book is ready. i can't wait to get my hands on one.
my buddy C. Allen Rearick has a new joint-chap venture with Greg-O, from GreenPandaPress, which is available now. Limited to 69 copies, so pick one up soon. i hope Mr. Rearick will post a reply to this with the info on how to get one.
lastly, i received word from Eric Dejaeger that he would like to do a dual-language English/French chapbook of my poetry later this year. i'm very excited about this, of course, and will pass on more information as it becomes available.
there's some good stuff out there. more good stuff on the horizon (including some new chapbooks and broadsides from my own Hemispherical Press (once we move into the new house) by Christopher Cunningham, Owen Roberts, C. Allen Rearick, Michael David McNamara and others). keep a eye here for updates.
my buddy Glenn W. Cooper has book of poetry, a joint-chap with Michael Estabrook, out with Nerve Cowboy's Liquid Paper Press, titled methinks i see my father. i've not seen the book yet (though it's in the mail), but i have been priviledged to see the poetry and artwork and, trust me folks, this is going to be one helluva fucking book. do yourself a favor and pick this up. for $6 it's a deal.
my buddy (mentioned in the previous post) Christopher Cunningham has a new chapbook of poems and letters (And Still The Night Left To Go: Poems and Letters) coming out soon by Bottle of Smoke Press. I received a small broadside of one of the poems the other day. Simply brilliant. This book will be amazing. If you've not had the pleasure of sitting back on a cold evening, drinking a beer, maybe some Miles Davis or Rachael Yamagata on the stereo, reading one of Mr. Cunningham's letters, then you've truly missed out. i'll update when the book is ready. i can't wait to get my hands on one.
my buddy C. Allen Rearick has a new joint-chap venture with Greg-O, from GreenPandaPress, which is available now. Limited to 69 copies, so pick one up soon. i hope Mr. Rearick will post a reply to this with the info on how to get one.
lastly, i received word from Eric Dejaeger that he would like to do a dual-language English/French chapbook of my poetry later this year. i'm very excited about this, of course, and will pass on more information as it becomes available.
there's some good stuff out there. more good stuff on the horizon (including some new chapbooks and broadsides from my own Hemispherical Press (once we move into the new house) by Christopher Cunningham, Owen Roberts, C. Allen Rearick, Michael David McNamara and others). keep a eye here for updates.
well hot damn
the weather has changed. it's cold and gritty outside, now, but the sky is so blue it's as if you're stuck in the lattice of a sapphire looking out. small clouds cling to the mountains like an infant primate to its mother. the sun is bright and clear, but the air is still crisp.
it's been a long, long time since my last update. i don't even know if anyone is still around; if anyone still remembers me; if anyone still cares. there were numerous reasons for my absence, but let's just say the rumors of my demise (now matter how self-created) were greatly exaggerated. or, if not GREATLY exaggerated, at least hyperbolized a bit. i'm not dead. i've not quit. i'm still here. i'm still writing, or that is to say, i'm writing again. and i'll be here for a long while. at least as long as the cosmos feel i should be.
what have i been up to? not a whole helluva lot. but, i needed the rest. i needed the break. our house is still NOT yet completed (more about this later). it's getting humorous now, almost. there's probably a month left on it, but they'll stretch it out to two, no doubt.
fuck it.
like i said earlier, i've been writing again. things were difficult for me for awhile, there. i lost my way. i got wrapped up in my own bullshit and stuck in some kind of negative biofeedback loop. there are a few good friends to thank for helping me out of my "funk". you know who you are. THANK YOU. the last time i was writing this regularly was over 15 months ago. now THAT'S a fucking writer's block. jesus.
the country still has a moron at the helm. and he's downright determined to fuck over everyone. well, fuck him. and his goverment. and his fucking tax cut. fuck it all.
i've been posting a bit over at Christopher Cunningham's fabulous blog Upright Against the Savage Heavens. you've heard me talk about Mr. Cunningham before. This man is the real fucking deal when it comes to poetry. he's also quite political and has a few interesting things to say about the current state of our union.
that's about it. waiting on the house, writing some wry, little poems, working, and trying to stay alive just one more day.
it's been a long, long time since my last update. i don't even know if anyone is still around; if anyone still remembers me; if anyone still cares. there were numerous reasons for my absence, but let's just say the rumors of my demise (now matter how self-created) were greatly exaggerated. or, if not GREATLY exaggerated, at least hyperbolized a bit. i'm not dead. i've not quit. i'm still here. i'm still writing, or that is to say, i'm writing again. and i'll be here for a long while. at least as long as the cosmos feel i should be.
what have i been up to? not a whole helluva lot. but, i needed the rest. i needed the break. our house is still NOT yet completed (more about this later). it's getting humorous now, almost. there's probably a month left on it, but they'll stretch it out to two, no doubt.
fuck it.
like i said earlier, i've been writing again. things were difficult for me for awhile, there. i lost my way. i got wrapped up in my own bullshit and stuck in some kind of negative biofeedback loop. there are a few good friends to thank for helping me out of my "funk". you know who you are. THANK YOU. the last time i was writing this regularly was over 15 months ago. now THAT'S a fucking writer's block. jesus.
the country still has a moron at the helm. and he's downright determined to fuck over everyone. well, fuck him. and his goverment. and his fucking tax cut. fuck it all.
i've been posting a bit over at Christopher Cunningham's fabulous blog Upright Against the Savage Heavens. you've heard me talk about Mr. Cunningham before. This man is the real fucking deal when it comes to poetry. he's also quite political and has a few interesting things to say about the current state of our union.
that's about it. waiting on the house, writing some wry, little poems, working, and trying to stay alive just one more day.
20 January 2006
quick note
going out to dinner soon, real soon, but just wanted to put up a quick post that the new issue of Spent Meat is now live. my poem the second coming is featured. other poets include J.J. Campbell, Karl Koweski, Chris Major and Jonathan Hayes.
check 'er out.
check 'er out.
19 January 2006
giveaway
i have an extra issue each of Bathtun Gin #17 and trespass magazine #2, both of which i appear in. if you're interested in obtaining either of these journals, be the first to email me and i'll ship both or either to you.
move along, folks. nothing else to see here.
move along, folks. nothing else to see here.
17 January 2006
update, quick-like
i received an acceptance the other day from Kristi over at trespass magazine. my poem in the burning house of angels will be featured in the next issue. trespass is a great new magazine with much potential, so i'm very excited about this. i'll update when it is released.
also, i received the new issue of remark. (issue #40). Kat's done another great job with the design of this issue, and with selecting the poetry. featured poets include Nathan Graziano, ron lucas, Jonathan Hayes and Nescher Pyscher.
also, i received the new issue of remark. (issue #40). Kat's done another great job with the design of this issue, and with selecting the poetry. featured poets include Nathan Graziano, ron lucas, Jonathan Hayes and Nescher Pyscher.
13 January 2006
slow friday night alone
the wife is out with some girlfriends from work, watching a movie and talking about hairdoes or some shit. actually, in my mind, they are tickle fighting in negligees. just don't tell me it isn't so.
anyway, i got my iPod hooked into the speakers we bought for it, i got The White Stripes blasting through the apartment, i got a beer in my hand and abso-fucking-lutely nothing to do.
back in the day, this would be the time i would scratch out a few poems i'd been mulling about, or tighten up a few i'd written the week or month before. not so much anymore. i squeezed one out today at work, during lunch, but it reads like it was squeezed out...of a fat man's ass. oh well.
we finally heard some good news regarding our house that is being built. to catch you up to speed. back in June we purchased a house, which we told was going to be started near the end of September. Long story short, ground wasn't even broken until just before xmas. we got the runaround so bad that i went against my passive, take-shit-all-day-and-keep-on-smilin' persona and wrote a rather lengthy and terse letter. (i don't do phone calls very well as my voice tends to rise to dolphin click decibels and i forget what i want to say, etc. etc.)
well, i got a call from the builder about the letter saying they understand the situation we are going through, they will rectify some of our problems, etc. etc. AND that we finally have a hole. doesn't seem like much, but it's a fucking milestone in this thing. plus, we actually have a foundation now and the framing should begin any day now. luckily, we've been having a freakishly mild winter (so far) which has only helped things.
the other issues we wrote them about are being worked on and hopefully will be corrected lest i have to take out my mighty pen and dash off another curt letter. my mommy used to tell me that words can hurt, and the pen is mightier than the sword. we'll see.
anyway, i got my iPod hooked into the speakers we bought for it, i got The White Stripes blasting through the apartment, i got a beer in my hand and abso-fucking-lutely nothing to do.
back in the day, this would be the time i would scratch out a few poems i'd been mulling about, or tighten up a few i'd written the week or month before. not so much anymore. i squeezed one out today at work, during lunch, but it reads like it was squeezed out...of a fat man's ass. oh well.
we finally heard some good news regarding our house that is being built. to catch you up to speed. back in June we purchased a house, which we told was going to be started near the end of September. Long story short, ground wasn't even broken until just before xmas. we got the runaround so bad that i went against my passive, take-shit-all-day-and-keep-on-smilin' persona and wrote a rather lengthy and terse letter. (i don't do phone calls very well as my voice tends to rise to dolphin click decibels and i forget what i want to say, etc. etc.)
well, i got a call from the builder about the letter saying they understand the situation we are going through, they will rectify some of our problems, etc. etc. AND that we finally have a hole. doesn't seem like much, but it's a fucking milestone in this thing. plus, we actually have a foundation now and the framing should begin any day now. luckily, we've been having a freakishly mild winter (so far) which has only helped things.
the other issues we wrote them about are being worked on and hopefully will be corrected lest i have to take out my mighty pen and dash off another curt letter. my mommy used to tell me that words can hurt, and the pen is mightier than the sword. we'll see.
07 January 2006
parlez-vous français?
i don't. not a lick. i had to look up how to spell the above correctly.
the reason i ask is because i received my copy of Nouveux Delits today, where four of my poems translated by Eric Dejaeger appear. they appear in English, with the French translation alongside. and, they are gorgeous. it's amazing how something as simple as a translation into French can make your poetry look good.
the poems in this issue are:
penis boy
A Wonder
a clear sign i have become my father
another clear sign i have become my father
i can't understand anything else about the issue. it's all Greek to me. actually, make that French. i know, i know. that was a really bad pun. sorry.
the reason i ask is because i received my copy of Nouveux Delits today, where four of my poems translated by Eric Dejaeger appear. they appear in English, with the French translation alongside. and, they are gorgeous. it's amazing how something as simple as a translation into French can make your poetry look good.
the poems in this issue are:
penis boy
A Wonder
a clear sign i have become my father
another clear sign i have become my father
i can't understand anything else about the issue. it's all Greek to me. actually, make that French. i know, i know. that was a really bad pun. sorry.
05 January 2006
2 acceptances, a new book, a french mistake and a small press review
lots of new stuff to kick off the new year. seems 2006 is starting off just right.
first, i received news from Bill Roberts of Bottle of Smoke Press that he will be starting a new project soon: specifically a set of coasters with poems letterpressed on them. the poems are about drinking. he accepted a new poem i wrote specifically for the project. the project is invitiation only, and i'm flattered to be included. of course, i'll inform when the project is completed.
second, i received word from Linda Wandt, the new editor of Spent Meat, that my poem the second coming will be used for the new issue. Spent Meat is coming back online after an extended hiatus. RC Edrington was the editor, but those duties are now Linda's. i was asked by RC to submit, and again i was flattered. RC and i also made amends. it's a long story, but suffice it to say things are now cool. i'll let you know when the new issue is up. looks like February some time.
next, i received the latest, and recently sold out, Bottle of Smoke Press publication, sometimes city undercovers, a book dedicated to d.a. levy and the recent levyfest in Cleveland. good stuff. it even includes a 5-poem mini-chapbook of levy's poetry.
yesterday, i received the latest issue of The Small Press Review. this magazine publishes only reviews, and is a great source for magazines, journals and books. unfortunately, this issue included a bad review of my buddy Karl Koweski's chapbook Can't Kill a Man Born to Hang, published by the ubiquitous Bottle of Smoke Press. i feel Karl is one of the best small press poets, and that the review is off base. his poetry is subtle, and deep and his humor is razor sharp. good stuff.
lastly, i received word today from Eric Dejaeger in Belgium that the poems he translated into French have already appeared in one magazine, Liqueur 44, and will appear in two others shortly, his own Microbe and Nouveaux Delits. i can't wait to see them.
i also found out that Eric has agreed to translate a bunch of Glenn W. Cooper's poems into French. this is great news. i'm a firm believer that the more people to read Glenn's poetry the better off the world will be.
incidentally, this is not the "french mistake" referenced in the title above. that designation is reserved for the publication of my own poems. anyway, congrats, Glenn.
maybe 2006 will be better than 2005.
first, i received news from Bill Roberts of Bottle of Smoke Press that he will be starting a new project soon: specifically a set of coasters with poems letterpressed on them. the poems are about drinking. he accepted a new poem i wrote specifically for the project. the project is invitiation only, and i'm flattered to be included. of course, i'll inform when the project is completed.
second, i received word from Linda Wandt, the new editor of Spent Meat, that my poem the second coming will be used for the new issue. Spent Meat is coming back online after an extended hiatus. RC Edrington was the editor, but those duties are now Linda's. i was asked by RC to submit, and again i was flattered. RC and i also made amends. it's a long story, but suffice it to say things are now cool. i'll let you know when the new issue is up. looks like February some time.
next, i received the latest, and recently sold out, Bottle of Smoke Press publication, sometimes city undercovers, a book dedicated to d.a. levy and the recent levyfest in Cleveland. good stuff. it even includes a 5-poem mini-chapbook of levy's poetry.
yesterday, i received the latest issue of The Small Press Review. this magazine publishes only reviews, and is a great source for magazines, journals and books. unfortunately, this issue included a bad review of my buddy Karl Koweski's chapbook Can't Kill a Man Born to Hang, published by the ubiquitous Bottle of Smoke Press. i feel Karl is one of the best small press poets, and that the review is off base. his poetry is subtle, and deep and his humor is razor sharp. good stuff.
lastly, i received word today from Eric Dejaeger in Belgium that the poems he translated into French have already appeared in one magazine, Liqueur 44, and will appear in two others shortly, his own Microbe and Nouveaux Delits. i can't wait to see them.
i also found out that Eric has agreed to translate a bunch of Glenn W. Cooper's poems into French. this is great news. i'm a firm believer that the more people to read Glenn's poetry the better off the world will be.
incidentally, this is not the "french mistake" referenced in the title above. that designation is reserved for the publication of my own poems. anyway, congrats, Glenn.
maybe 2006 will be better than 2005.
31 December 2005
Happy New Year
later tonight i will be so blitzed on beer, tequila, wine and champagne that i will probably be unable to function, let alone post on this blog, for a few days. therefore, i am posting now (before everything begins) and wishing everyone a happy new year!
as i said before, May 2006 be everything 2005 wasn't.
be safe, guys. there are always a lot of psychos and drunks and lunatics out on this night. if you happen to be one of these people, please leave everyone else alone and wallow in your lunacy alone!
as i said before, May 2006 be everything 2005 wasn't.
be safe, guys. there are always a lot of psychos and drunks and lunatics out on this night. if you happen to be one of these people, please leave everyone else alone and wallow in your lunacy alone!
28 December 2005
indirect rejection?
i received a copy of a journal out of Utah State University called isotope. it bills itself as "A Journal of Literary Nature and Science Writing". i figured why not, since i fancy myself a writer and am a scientist, and often merge the two.
a few days after my submission, i received an email that said:
Thank you for your submission to Isotope! I'm writing in case you don’t know about the contest we are holding during our current reading period (Aug 1-Nov 15). You can find contest guidelines on our website (http://isotope.usu.edu/). You do not need to enter the contest in order for us to consider your work for publication, but there is prize money as well as publication for the winners and all contest entries will be considered for publication. After reading the contest guidelines, if you'd like to enter your submitted work in the contest, you can send along the entry fee (which also gets you a discounted subscription to Isotope) and a cover sheet, otherwise we will process your work as a regular submission.
Thank you for your interest in Isotope!
after reading this, i thought they really liked what i submitted and were being kind enough to let me know of the contest. dumbass me, i sent them the $15. i hadn't heard a thing until today. i received a copy of isotope. i'm not sure if it's the contest issue or not. probably not since there's no mention of it in the pages, but i still haven't heard a thing about my submission. am i to assume this issue is a rejection? or is it just part of my discounted subscription? i never heard about what the discout on the subscription was, nor did i send any extra monies.
i am assuming that this issue is a subtle rejection: sorry, mr. barrett, but your poetry isn't good enough to grace our pages. nor is it good enough to even warrant a real rejection. instead, here is a copy of our journal. peruse it. study it. learn.
the journal features mostly fiction and essays, but there are quite a few poems. most are horrible. truly horrible. a few were good, and one was just amazing. but, my stuff definitely isn't in the genre and style that they like. my poetry is a little too unlyrical and is far too narrative in nature.
anyway, i'm hoping this wasn't meant as a rejection. if so, that's horrible.
a few days after my submission, i received an email that said:
Thank you for your submission to Isotope! I'm writing in case you don’t know about the contest we are holding during our current reading period (Aug 1-Nov 15). You can find contest guidelines on our website (http://isotope.usu.edu/). You do not need to enter the contest in order for us to consider your work for publication, but there is prize money as well as publication for the winners and all contest entries will be considered for publication. After reading the contest guidelines, if you'd like to enter your submitted work in the contest, you can send along the entry fee (which also gets you a discounted subscription to Isotope) and a cover sheet, otherwise we will process your work as a regular submission.
Thank you for your interest in Isotope!
after reading this, i thought they really liked what i submitted and were being kind enough to let me know of the contest. dumbass me, i sent them the $15. i hadn't heard a thing until today. i received a copy of isotope. i'm not sure if it's the contest issue or not. probably not since there's no mention of it in the pages, but i still haven't heard a thing about my submission. am i to assume this issue is a rejection? or is it just part of my discounted subscription? i never heard about what the discout on the subscription was, nor did i send any extra monies.
i am assuming that this issue is a subtle rejection: sorry, mr. barrett, but your poetry isn't good enough to grace our pages. nor is it good enough to even warrant a real rejection. instead, here is a copy of our journal. peruse it. study it. learn.
the journal features mostly fiction and essays, but there are quite a few poems. most are horrible. truly horrible. a few were good, and one was just amazing. but, my stuff definitely isn't in the genre and style that they like. my poetry is a little too unlyrical and is far too narrative in nature.
anyway, i'm hoping this wasn't meant as a rejection. if so, that's horrible.
24 December 2005
new issue of Nerve Cowboy...& Merry Xmas
today, as a nice, early Xmas present, arrived my contributor and subscriber copies of the new Nerve Cowboy (#20, Fall 2005). two of my poems, the ultimate irony of the recently sobered & the geometry of a relationship on the rocks, are featured in this issue. Nerve Cowboy, once again, released an amazing issue. it is the best small press journal of literature out there. since i have two copies, if you're interested in seeing what Nerve Cowboy offers, let me know and i'll send you my extra copy. i'm pretty certain you'll love it and will wind up becoming a subscriber. it's THAT good.
other poets featured in this issue include: Gerald Locklin, Karl Koweski, Kathleen Paul-Flanagan, christopher cunninngham, A.D. Winans and Michael Kriesel.
well, tomorrow is Xmas. unfortunately, and oddly, we've been hit with some kind of freakish warm spell. it's like 50 degrees (Fahrenheit) outside today. no snow, except on the mountains, and plenty of sunshine. it's actually quite nice.
anyway, Merry Xmas folks. i hope you have a beautiful end of the year, and i hope 2006 is everything 2005 wasn't.
for all of us.
other poets featured in this issue include: Gerald Locklin, Karl Koweski, Kathleen Paul-Flanagan, christopher cunninngham, A.D. Winans and Michael Kriesel.
well, tomorrow is Xmas. unfortunately, and oddly, we've been hit with some kind of freakish warm spell. it's like 50 degrees (Fahrenheit) outside today. no snow, except on the mountains, and plenty of sunshine. it's actually quite nice.
anyway, Merry Xmas folks. i hope you have a beautiful end of the year, and i hope 2006 is everything 2005 wasn't.
for all of us.
21 December 2005
RIP
seems i'm not writing on here much anymore. or, at least not as often. seems i'm not writing much of anything anymore. hopefully, that will change. it's just work is a bitch right now. balls to the wall busy. 10 hour days. plus, it's the dead of winter (Happy Winter Solstice!!) and i'm driving to work in the dark and driving home in the dark. never a good thing.
yesterday i received the final issue of Chiron Review (#81). it is an all gay and lesbian literature issue. CR will be greatly missed in the small press world. a rarity, too, being printed on newsprint in a full-size format. i'm proud as hell to have been in a few previous issues of CR, and wish Hathaway (the editor) the best.
i doubt i'll post before xmas, so Merry Xmas to all of you who celebrate it. Happy Chanuka to those who celebrate that. to everyone else...Season's Greetings, i guess.
yesterday i received the final issue of Chiron Review (#81). it is an all gay and lesbian literature issue. CR will be greatly missed in the small press world. a rarity, too, being printed on newsprint in a full-size format. i'm proud as hell to have been in a few previous issues of CR, and wish Hathaway (the editor) the best.
i doubt i'll post before xmas, so Merry Xmas to all of you who celebrate it. Happy Chanuka to those who celebrate that. to everyone else...Season's Greetings, i guess.
14 December 2005
the poem that started it all for me
when i was in high school, i was not a writer. i was shy, very tall, very skinny and very unpopular. things were compounded when we moved in the midst of my senior year. things turned out well, obviously (especially considering this is where i met my future wife) but it was not an easy go of it to be sure.
anyway, the teacher i was assigned to for English class--one Mrs. Anusavice--was a great teacher. she had this voice that was at once motherly and strong. her diction was clear and her enunciation was immaculate. she was also a lover of poetry, both classic and contemporary. we read a great deal of poetry--from Shakespeare to Byron to Yeats to Strand. and most of it was good.
the best, though, was the day she read the following poem by William J. Harris:
HEY FELLA WOULD YOU MIND HOLDING THIS PIANO A MOMENT
As you are walking
down the street
this guy asks you
to hold his violin.
It’s a Stradivarius.
Soon as it falls
into your hands you start playing like crazy.
The violin
almost plays itself.
Your powerful hands
nearly break the instrument
but the music is gentle and sweet.
You sweep your long artistic hair
out of your face.
Everybody
in the room,
in the bull ring, in the
audience, in the coliseum
starts clapping and shouting “Encore & Wow.”
Everybody whoever thought
that you were
dumb & untalented
goes apeshit
over your hidden genius.
“Gee, I never knew you
played,” says your astonished high school
principal.
William J. Harris
From Hey Fella Would You Mind Holding This Piano A Moment © 1974, William J. Harris
i love this poem. i loved it then, and love it even more now. the absurdity of it all. the flow. everything.
back then, i got a kick out of Mrs. Anusavice saying the word "apeshit" (and, i admit, still giggle a little when i hear now). but now, i love the fact that it is so simple and so irrationally absurd.
well, that poem did it for me. it opened my eyes to what poetry could really be. it showed me that poetry wasn't all meter and rhyme; that it was considerably more than iambic pentameter or villanelles or sonnets; that it could be funny and absurd and plain-spoken. this hit me hard and definitely inspired me to try my hand at laying down the line.
needless to say, i'm glad Mrs. Anusavice read this poem to our class back in '90. i'm glad Mr. Harris wrote back in '74. for without either, i doubt i ever would've found poetry.
i'm sure, though, that there are plenty out there who are silently cursing both Mrs. Anusavice and Mr. Harris for their parts in aiding that discovery.
anyway, the teacher i was assigned to for English class--one Mrs. Anusavice--was a great teacher. she had this voice that was at once motherly and strong. her diction was clear and her enunciation was immaculate. she was also a lover of poetry, both classic and contemporary. we read a great deal of poetry--from Shakespeare to Byron to Yeats to Strand. and most of it was good.
the best, though, was the day she read the following poem by William J. Harris:
HEY FELLA WOULD YOU MIND HOLDING THIS PIANO A MOMENT
As you are walking
down the street
this guy asks you
to hold his violin.
It’s a Stradivarius.
Soon as it falls
into your hands you start playing like crazy.
The violin
almost plays itself.
Your powerful hands
nearly break the instrument
but the music is gentle and sweet.
You sweep your long artistic hair
out of your face.
Everybody
in the room,
in the bull ring, in the
audience, in the coliseum
starts clapping and shouting “Encore & Wow.”
Everybody whoever thought
that you were
dumb & untalented
goes apeshit
over your hidden genius.
“Gee, I never knew you
played,” says your astonished high school
principal.
William J. Harris
From Hey Fella Would You Mind Holding This Piano A Moment © 1974, William J. Harris
i love this poem. i loved it then, and love it even more now. the absurdity of it all. the flow. everything.
back then, i got a kick out of Mrs. Anusavice saying the word "apeshit" (and, i admit, still giggle a little when i hear now). but now, i love the fact that it is so simple and so irrationally absurd.
well, that poem did it for me. it opened my eyes to what poetry could really be. it showed me that poetry wasn't all meter and rhyme; that it was considerably more than iambic pentameter or villanelles or sonnets; that it could be funny and absurd and plain-spoken. this hit me hard and definitely inspired me to try my hand at laying down the line.
needless to say, i'm glad Mrs. Anusavice read this poem to our class back in '90. i'm glad Mr. Harris wrote back in '74. for without either, i doubt i ever would've found poetry.
i'm sure, though, that there are plenty out there who are silently cursing both Mrs. Anusavice and Mr. Harris for their parts in aiding that discovery.
13 December 2005
the rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated (though close)
wrote my first poem in a month? two months? hell, i can't remember how long it's been. and quickly on the heels of that first one, a second one spilled out. it felt good.
i don't think "it" is totally back -- this is going to be a series of fits and starts before i'm back to cruising the poetry highway -- but it's good to know it didn't completely leave me. i've always been afraid that one day it will up and leave me. still might. glad to know that it hasn't happened yet.
i might not be back, but ya'll best watch out. i'll be back in the game before you know it; swinging for the fences; running back punts; pushing the fast break.
i don't think "it" is totally back -- this is going to be a series of fits and starts before i'm back to cruising the poetry highway -- but it's good to know it didn't completely leave me. i've always been afraid that one day it will up and leave me. still might. glad to know that it hasn't happened yet.
i might not be back, but ya'll best watch out. i'll be back in the game before you know it; swinging for the fences; running back punts; pushing the fast break.
07 December 2005
workshops revealed
Brian McGettrick (aka bmcg on this blog) sent me a link to an article by Sam Sacks. this article, ostensibly a review of an anthology (Best New American Voices 2006) is really a look at workshops and what they are doing to American literature.
i've never liked the idea of workshops. like Mr. Sacks says, they only dilute the talent pool. they bring down those who are talented (and therefore don't need a workshop) and bring those who are untalented up just enough to not discourage them from writing. he even touches on the publishing trade, and how little it means to be published.
granted, the article is about fiction (short stories, mainly), but i think the sentiment can be applied just as well to poetry. there ARE poetry workshops, and the same drivel Mr. Sacks mentions is being released from these places.
the key sentence in the whole article is: "As for grammar and mechanics, the only aspects of writing actually governed by rules, they are considered beneath the contempt of creative minds and are omitted from study." i find grammar and mechanics woefully lacking in most contemporary literature, and it's even worse in poetry. for some reason people just can't seem to be bothered with learning the proper way to say things. and don't even get me started on spelling.
i also think the fact that poems are shorter, and words in a poem are at even more of a premium, any grammatical or mechanical error is magnified.
these things matter, folks. punctuation matters. spelling matters. grammar matters. it's all part of communicating effectively. it's hard enough getting people to read poems, there's no sense in putting them off even more with hard-to-read, grammatically incorrect, mechanically cumbersome pieces.
that's my $0.02.
i've never liked the idea of workshops. like Mr. Sacks says, they only dilute the talent pool. they bring down those who are talented (and therefore don't need a workshop) and bring those who are untalented up just enough to not discourage them from writing. he even touches on the publishing trade, and how little it means to be published.
granted, the article is about fiction (short stories, mainly), but i think the sentiment can be applied just as well to poetry. there ARE poetry workshops, and the same drivel Mr. Sacks mentions is being released from these places.
the key sentence in the whole article is: "As for grammar and mechanics, the only aspects of writing actually governed by rules, they are considered beneath the contempt of creative minds and are omitted from study." i find grammar and mechanics woefully lacking in most contemporary literature, and it's even worse in poetry. for some reason people just can't seem to be bothered with learning the proper way to say things. and don't even get me started on spelling.
i also think the fact that poems are shorter, and words in a poem are at even more of a premium, any grammatical or mechanical error is magnified.
these things matter, folks. punctuation matters. spelling matters. grammar matters. it's all part of communicating effectively. it's hard enough getting people to read poems, there's no sense in putting them off even more with hard-to-read, grammatically incorrect, mechanically cumbersome pieces.
that's my $0.02.
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