I’m part of a cadre of poets who are resurrecting or creating blogs about poetry in 2018. Poets Kelli Russell Agodon and Donna Vorreyer recruited us on Twitter (a great place for poets) and I thought it would be a good use of my new “me as poet” website. Lord knows I don’t need another commitment right now, what with trying to churn up clients for a consulting gig that is (supposed to be) paying the bills, taking care of three kids, and beginning my fourth semester of grad school night classes. And feeling so very 46. So very midlife. So very everything. So, I’m not going to make this a “must-do” space. I’d much rather
I’m on Literary Mama’s After Page One blog this week explaining my harried writing practice. It’s frustrating not being able to focus on poetry full-time. I know I am not the only parent who must put children first for many years. I hope it’s making me a better writer (all the great material! the constant humbling!) so I try to count my blessings and breathe slowly through the longer days. My thanks to Literary Mama for printing my piece and for providing a wonderful space for overwhelmed writer mamas to congregate.
What gets in the way of your artmaking? How do you harness it and make lemonade?
The good poetry folks at The Museum of Americana emailed to say they chose “Ferry Boat Line, Bolivar” as a Pushcart Prize nominee for the 2018 anthology. What a thrill. I’m feeling giddy about it and plan on spreading the love all around my house and neighborhood all weekend. Keep writing poetry, friends. In fact, submit it to The Museum as their reading period is open until December 31.
You can read more about the Bolivar Peninsula of Texas and the free ferry boat ride that takes people and automobiles back and forth to the island of Galveston on their Twitter feed. The beach house referenced in this poem, as well as most every other beach house on the peninsula, was sadly washed away in Hurricane Ike on September 12, 2008. Bolivar is no stranger to hurricanes.