Tag: publishing
Sharing space in poetry (“that essay”)
Away from my normal routines for ten days in Portugal, I looked at Twitter occasionally and kept seeing references to “that essay” by poet Bob Hicok. I’ll scout it out later, I thought, first busy with the MLA International Symposium in Lisbon; then laid… Continue Reading “Sharing space in poetry (“that essay”)”
Dear poetry professor on submissions (plus dropped balls, tombstones, & “Hap”)
The New York Times ran a “Working Woman’s Handbook” section in the print edition this Sunday, and I read it from cover to cover, even though it defeated the REASON I get the print edition on Sunday mornings, the whole indulgence-with-a-pot-of-tea-on-the-sofa vibe. The handbook… Continue Reading “Dear poetry professor on submissions (plus dropped balls, tombstones, & “Hap”)”
The ambit of ambition
A former student, visiting campus for her 20th reunion, was telling me about deciding to remarry, as we shared glasses of wine by the window in a local bar. She recounted how the man she was dating said apologetically, as they started to get… Continue Reading “The ambit of ambition”
Pleased as punch (with recipe)
Maybe I need to blog about poetic self-doubt more often. As soon as I did, my luck seemed to shift under my feet. I had been doing math some of you have surely done, too: I’ve been showing the ms around for a while now.… Continue Reading “Pleased as punch (with recipe)”
Birthday-head
Should I wear the top hat or tiara while teaching Yeats tomorrow? Poe thinks it’s a stupid question. People keep asking me how I feel about turning fifty tomorrow. One answer is: lucky. I’m back in the swing of teaching after a difficult summer,… Continue Reading “Birthday-head”
Hybrid H.D.
I’ve been swimming around in H.D.’s work since my undergraduate years, on the recommendation of the writer I eventually married. I started with her memoirs of Freud and Pound, trekking up to the sunny top floor of the University of Southampton library… Continue Reading “Hybrid H.D.”
No middlebrow for poetry
There really isn’t a place for the middlebrow in poetry publishing. I don’t like ranking people’s tastes by their supposed expanse of forehead. First, it’s mainly marketing, defining us by how we spend. Second, we’re all more mixed than that. I’m more adventurous about… Continue Reading “No middlebrow for poetry”
“Douchebag” and other rude, not-seasonally-festive epithets
The one time I tried to smoke a cigarette, my friends mocked me: “Cut that out. You look totally ridiculous.” By common consensus, I couldn’t pull off foul language either. I thought the problem might have been some crisp Englishness lingering in my elocution—my… Continue Reading ““Douchebag” and other rude, not-seasonally-festive epithets”
