Bloom

I am reading Amy Bloom’s, A Blind Man Can See How Much I Love You which is a fricken wonderful title. The working title I had for my manuscript turned out to be another poetry book published this year so by the time my book actually sees the light of day all good titles will be gone.

Anyway, I am reading all of Bloom’s work from start to finish and I’m almost done. I’m like this when I find an author I love. I read no one else for a week and consume everything they have ever written. I am a horribly fast reader. I read a full book a day which in some ways feels unfair because most writers spend years writing what takes me such a short time to digest. Sometimes I feel guilty about it then I move on to the next book.

I received a letter from Belo__ yesterday and they are holding the new batch of poems but they will not be next issue. I am little sad about it but the editor said they talked about “Watching” for a long time and could not come to an agreement about the line that says, nineteen bones sleep in the foot. Oh, well…it is the sleeping they had a problem with but I think it works so it stays.

In some things I am oddly unmovable. I do care about getting published but there are certain lines I write that I know are absolutely right for the poem, granted is hardly ever the whole poem.

Carolyn gave me five journals she wanted to see me submit to this year and I am almost done with the list. I have gotten in one and two letters so that is not bad.

I hope today will be a writing day. My kids left this morning on their first road trip with their aunt by themselves. They are happy to be missing school for two days. I restrained myself from telling her what to do if the van caught fire or to hand her a pamphlet on basic first aid. I will be a nervous wreck all day. Yes, I know I’m pitiful.