Wednesday, June 24, 2009

As a member of an editorial collective, I'd just like to say ...

sometimes your poem doesn't have to be stellar. Sometimes it just has to be the first one in a long long list of poems that actually makes some rudimentary sense, the first one that doesn't make the Editor, (who is also a mother who has to clean up the kitchen and walk the dog and visit her sick mother) roll her eyes heavenward and want to e-mail the rest of the collective asking if it is just that her dog is barking and the phone is ringing or is this collection sent in by Ernest Hope a long collection of pretty, poorly chosen words full of sound and fury signifying nothing? and weren't the last sixty like that? and will someone who has a passing acquaintance with a narrative arc please condescend to send us a story because we all have other lives to go and there are plenty of other things in our daily humdrum existence that make us feel like sticking forks in our eyes so we are likely NOT going to read past paragraph two of the story you have blessed us with if we are not yet interested 100 words in

Hang on, I may be ranting.

How are you all?

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Headed to the Castle

It's the annual pilgrimage to Glen Eyrie, so I am away from home and family. Trying to be my mother in law I made a huge vat of chili before I left so the family would have something to eat. The only thing it would fit in was an ice cream pail.

MSN this morning between A and I:

Me: how are things at home?

A: We're eating chili out of an ice cream bucket - that about sums it up.