It's Coming - AWP #20 blogging

The annual AWP writers conference is coming at us with the speed of an asteroid. The annual event brings together writers of all genres from across the U.S. and beyond.

AWP #20 will occur in San Antonio, starting on Wednesday the 4th. I can confirm that I have already experienced a bit of the typical anxiety associated with the pilgrimage.  Each year there are generally 12,000 or more in attendance. If I recall correctly there were like 14,000 last year in Portland.

I have somewhat introvert tendencies, although at times I may break free of the chains. As long as I am able to retreat and recharge from time to time, I can deal with it.  For me the stressor are being away from home, being in the midst of a crushing mob (slight exaggeration),  meeting people I am in awe of and being fearful I appear to be a complete goofball, and meeting complete strangers and feeling. my first impression (and lasting one) totally sucked. It is my hope to report/blog from the conference maybe a couple of times a day.

WHY EVEN GO?  Good question.  I think it has to be personal for each attendee.  For some it is seeing friends that you may see only once or twice a year.  Or it could be meeting  publishers.  Crisscrossing the book fair (always enormous) in search of bargains, newly published material, author signings, or readings. Both onsite and offsite. It could be learning more about the craft at panel presentations, or ideas, learning about marketing or working with publishers, agents, etc.

This year, I am focusing  on a couple aspects of craft. Seeing some friends, attending some readings and doing a reading myself. I want to springboard from the conference into a greater energy in my writing. I have a manuscript I am trying to finish and this could help push me over the finish line.

I always make a list of those I hope to see. Some for the first time. Some friends I'd like to hang out with for a bit.  It's a challenge to see how many of these people I  can catch up with given  because everyone has their own schedule and we often become like ships passing in the night.

THE  THING THAT IS DIFFERENT THIS YEAR:

There is something  looming overhead as we head to San Antonio. So much talk of the coronavirus has added a new level of anxiety. So many questions about how ready we are for an outbreak in the U.S. have created a legitimate concern.  I am impressed with AWP leadership for tracking the CDC daily and reporting on efforts to proactively implement ways to make the conference as safe as possible.

AWP has been tweeting messages like this-  Fewer handshakes, more smiles, louder greetings, thoughtful nods! At #AWP20, we’re in close communication with the conference center & City of San Antonio, & watching news fm CDC closely. We’re increasing hand sanitizing units and will have Lysol wipes in every meeting room.

I have a reasonable level of confidence that all will go well, but this is in large part because I believe the leadership of the conference is doing what it can to protect us all.  I have way more confidence in their leadership on this than I do the federal government.


Anyway, I am busy getting ready this weekend. Hopeful San Antonio will be a great conference. I am a veteran of 4 previous conferences - this will make 5.

Looking for the Good

It's Sunday evening and there are so many things I could have done today that I didn't.  I didn't send any notes to anyone for no reason than just to say hi. I did not go outside and take a walk, looking up at the clouds or tree tops.  Other than to get out and drive to yoga, I went no place else.  I read maybe 4 or five poems this morning. I journaled around 2:30 a.m. when my mind raced, chased by anxiety throughout the house. 

A number of things have rolled through my mind throughout the day.  Why I am not writing this very moment?  What should I or could I write about. Where is my muse? Where. has she been - I've not seen her for a very long time.

Cathy came home from work today sick and she is heavy on my mind because I recently went through a stretch of being sick with some upper respiratory sickness that really kicked my butt.  I don't want her to go through the same thing.  I offered her  as my intention for my yoga practice today.  She is resting now, and that is likely what she needs most.

Earlier in the day, I was thinking. a lot about the upcoming AWP conference. I always get  anxious as it gets closer.  I will likely have bouts of anxiety daily between now and the time I leave.  Also, on my mind today. is Ash Wednesday that is approaching. What will I give up for lent? Will I give up anything?  Will I substitute some proactive thing to do instead?

It warmed up quite a bit today and that seems heavy on me in that I missed lots of opportunity to see the beauty in things.  I bet my muse was out taking in nature. I'm like, Bitch where are you? She be like, where you should be.

Two final thoughts,  I watched the Mr Rogers movie, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood this week (this may be the subject of a full post later).  There was also a few lines shared with us a Yoga tonight about leaving the small fights for small fighters. These two things are centering. They are simple but challenge me to think good thoughts, positive thoughts.

With that, I'm going to sign off a write a bit because it's barely 8:30, and because I can.

The Order of Species and Poets

One morning this week (the exact day escapes me) I walked out to my car to leave for work and there were 4 of these creatures across the road grazing. They of course stopped and gave the look that says, Why are you all up in our business? There was also a woodpecker nearby pounding on a tree. This area is loaded with various critters. More often than not, they are blended into the surroundings.  For example, both in the evening, and even early morning hours there is a whoo-hoo  whoo-hoo.  This has been going on for a couple of months and I'd love to get my eyes on the Owl, but it hasn't happened yet.


As it started getting colder I started putting out suet for the birds. They are evidently quite pleased as I have to had to replace the suet every week and a half to two weeks. It's not in the best place for me to keep a casual eye on it without my interest being compromised. I may have to move it, if I am going to get any pictures or even good observation with. the naked eye.


If we surrendered to earth’s intelligence we could rise up rooted, like trees.  - Rainer Maria Rilke

Nature has a poet's patience about it. Or, at least the presence poets should ascribe to. I try, really I do, but dammit  I really want to see that owl. 

I think man's relationship with nature has been long out of tilt. We have relied so much on it, too much I believe, and now the realization that we have unknowingly for years been withdrawing  too much from the natural bank account of this planet earth. Our very survival demands we are better stewards of our planet. Our ultimate strength is rooted like the trees in the dark of earthen soil. We must be co-habitants with nature. 

I drive onto the highway and head downtown. The skyline like a prism reflecting the sunlight rising in the east. Glass panels, concrete, metal girders, reflective spires all twinkling ahead. Yes, man's marvels. But, somewhere there is a strip mine. Somewhere, countless acres of forest have fallen in the name of progress. Paved streets and parking lots.

Gone are the Reunion Ibis, the the Black-Backed Bittern, Reunion Night-Heron and a slew of other bird species. In the past half-century there has been a 29% decline in birds in the U.S. and Candida. Once we lose birds, insects and other animals are impacted. So too is plant life. Some of this is not doubt related to climate change and migration disruption. 

Poets could do a whole anthology of elegies to birds who are no longer with us. 

Patiently, I await the sight of the owl that serenades me morning and night.   

2020 BLUEPRINT

“Remove ‘shoulds’ from your vocabulary this year. Start your journey of self-love now.” —Kelly Martin

2019 and the whole decade that it represents is finished. What is left is smoldering memories. Some of them are good but most represent average or worse elements of my life. 

Mid-day today I attended a workshop at Core Balance Yoga that was nearly mat to mat in the studio. There were 23 of us and the instructor and we might have scrunched one more yogi in a cover but that would be it. There was a glitch in the software that allowed more than the limit to sign up on line. It happened so it must have meant to be. We made it work. 

The session was a 90 minute combination of yoga, guided meditation and journaling exercises designed to lead each of us to what would become a personal guiding word for 2020. The logic was that we can easily shed a resolution by screwing up and then feeling we have failed move on leaving it behind.

Out of my session, there were a series of words that flowed out of my journaling and meditation and the more meaningful ones came down to fulfillment, focus, vision, and authentic.  I have not as of this moment centered in on one word. Kristin, our instructor said some people actually use a couple or three words to carry with them throughout the year. I would like to minimize this as much as possible. 

Even prior to today's event, I have been thinking about the symbolic nature of 2020 and perfect vision. Working through dreams and hopes, I've been pointed to manuscript completion. Challenges to improve / perfect yoga practice. Achieve publication from a list of tougher reputation Journals or Reviews.

I already know that I have improve my own self worth, be guided by gratitude, and embody love of self and others. The past couple of years, truth has come to mean anything and nothing. In 2020, truth has to mean more to me. It has to reflect in me the embodiment of authenticity.  Being real, honest and genuine. 

So, I don't really have a resolution of sorts, but I see developing a roadmap or blueprint of something akin to a guiding light. I'm ready for a year that glows with joy, peace, art, fulfillment, and support of others. 

2020 A Year of Perfect Vision

As a poet I know said upon learning I got a Mac Book, "Michael, you've come to the dark side." Said poet has for years been singing her praise/love for her Mac Book. I finally decided to find out what I've been missing.

The learning curve has not been so bad up to this point. I've not pulled any hair out of my head as of yet. 

It's silver in color but I have and orange shell case for it  (It's a SF Giants thing) and I love how thin and light weight it is. Right now I am downloading word to it. I was not that impressed with Pages and I don't much care for having to convert to doc file which of course I need for writing.

The year is fleeting  like the air from a ballon with a pinhole. I like the thought of taking the Mac Book into the new year. Over the weekend I was thinking about the coming year. All the projects that I want to do, to start or the ones I need to push to the finish line. I realized that 2020 needs to stand for perfect vision. What I want, what I need to do, requires me to see 2020. This is a year in which my vision needs to lead me. The irony of having just come off of cataract surgery this fall was perhaps what brought 2020 into my mind as being a year for perfect vision. This time next year I hope to have a lot proof to show for the combination of vision and work.

Confession Tuesday - Dark Pillows - Impeachment - Yoga - and Poetry drafts.

Dear Friend: 
It is again that time. Fess up time.  The time to take account of the good the bad and the ugly.  Won't you follow me to the confessional? 

It has been five straight days of yoga, a gazillion eye drops, more impeachment hearings than I can recall the number - maybe 5?  And it has been 1 week since my last confession. 

Tonight as I left work downtown the sky was buffeted with dark pillows. It was a sight most surreal. 

I wanted to just stand and look at it but I had not been feeling well all day, was already leaving late and I the desire to get home won out. 

It's my 5th straight day of yoga tonight,  even as I don't feel well.  It's the coughy - runny stuff. I confess that I would like to stay home tomorrow but we will see how I am in the morning. I have started some Clairton - D so maybe that will help. The coughing has brought on chest pain. 

I was telling someone the other day that it did not know if yoga was making me a better writer, but it sure was making me a less stressed writer.  I am hoping that over time that will translate into better writing. I confess that hope is a good thing. 

This past week I have been spotty as far as writing. No, I confess I have not written daily. This is the ugly truth. I say that because I know all too well how important it is to do so. I do have a new draft that I will need to work on more, so this has not been a total loss of a week. 

My cataract surgery is, of course, all history now. Still pushing the eyedrops as I have been instructed to do. My eyes will still need some correction adjustment but they will take a look next month to see what my vision is like. My vision is brighter. I suspect I will still be wearing glasses but they will be different from what I am wearing presently.  I have noticed that I have not been squinting so much on the computer at work. 

I am looking forward to a Mala making class this weekend.  I also got out my manuscript draft tonight and left it on my desk to start toying with this week so I guess I have some things to look forward to. 

Until next time - be safe and live poetically!

Confession Tuesday: My 2019 Poet Crush Six Pack

For several years I have selected a number of poets that are currently rocking my world. Over the years it was capped at 6 and became known as my  Poet Crush Six Pack. This year I have struggled, in that there are so many really good poets out there that are writing remarkable material and speaks to me on some level.

My familiarity with them has come from reading their work or meeting them and hearing them read in person or both. [A little secret - many of my books have been bought at readings or ordered just afterward]. It is always extra special when I discover that their poetry not only rocks, but they are great literary stewards that frequently are giving back to the greater writer community. Several of these are such stewards. So, I give you my 2019 Poet Crush List. I confess these poets are rocking my world. 

Katie Manning is the author of a poetry collection titled, The Gospel of the Bleeding Woman which I read this year and found intriguing. Her writing reminded me a bit of Magdalene by Marie Howe another awesome poet who was selected for my Crush list in the past.

 In Portland for AWP19, I met Katie and picked up a copy of another of her books, Tasty Other. The second book was very different. This book was entertaining. It made me laugh and had just a touch of dark humor. Loved the poem Belly of the Whale, and the attempt to make Jack Nicholson look less creepy. My favorite was a series of 10 vignettes of a statue of Mother Mary on Johnson street that comes to life in various situations. I love that Mother Mary was humanized in these poems. Katie addressed experiences of pregnancy, motherhood, and parenting with humor and realism. 

On a final note, Katie is the Founder & Editor-In-Chief of Whale Road Review.  Additionally, she records short video reviews of other people's work, and that is so cool.  Follow Katie here.

Jennifer Moore is the author of The Veronica Maneuver, which I have read and What the Spirit Said, which is on my list buy and read soon.

I discovered Jennifer at AWP19. I have no idea if she was in attendance, but Mary Biddinger and Akron University Press were. I always, always check out Akron Press because they have consistently feature outstanding poetry. Mary made a couple of book recommendations and that's how this all happened.  

The Veronica Maneuver opens with, In the year of our Lord the Electric Chair and it was there she had my full attention. Jennifer wrote with a splash of mystery, which I loved. The poems were transformative. There was calm, there was chaos, there were Christ's face and a bullfight. It was marvelous how it all came together. I look forward with much anticipation of reading more of Jennifer's work. You can follow Jennifer here.

Melissa Studdard's I Ate The Cosmos for Breakfast has made me hungry for more of her work. She quotes Wallace Stevens, "The poet is the priest if the invisible." Studdard is that High Priestess.  Whether it is revealing the invisible to the naked eye or her copious attention to detail, to texture, and to metaphor. There is a touch of eroticism, feminine mystique, that is divine. Each time I read one of these poems I feel like I've learned something else, or else I come away with a curiosity for questions I never before entertained.

Melissa has been involved in VIDA - Women in Literary Arts. Melissa is rocking the poetry Cosmos! You can follow her here

Jericho Brown in person is one thing. Charming, 
outlandishly funny and occasionally
sarcastic. At least that has been my experience seeing him at multiple AWP conferences.    In his word, I see a much different man. Yes, there is sarcasm, but with a whole different intonation. He has championed a darker but no less real side of life. Cynical, yes, but squarely attuned to the unmistakable divide that festers in America.

Jericho's Louisiana roots never quite seem to be far away. His book, The New Testament kept me asking myself over and over sometimes uncomfortable questions. It also left me wondering how to get this book into more widely read. He has a newer book out that I have not read. but have added to my ever-growing wish list.  You can find more on Jerico here.

Anne Barnsgrover wrote in her debut book, with simply smashing imagery. "I feel like a wasps nest nailed to a door, all the stingers dried to rose thorns."  This was another Mary (knows how to pick them) Biddinger find. The book, Brazen Creature.

Loving, losing,  and all that happens in-between in these poems. Each is bold and unapologetic. Each is brazen. It could be in some ways a feminist manifesto. 

Metaphor is not lost on the revenge of the brown recluse. "Our hearts are nothing//but lies and lilac bruises. Old friend, we both want/each other dead tonight." This collection of poems was like an emotional workout. I want more of her work to read!

More on Anne Barnsgrover found here.





Martha Silano is one of what I refer to as the magical Northwest Poets. There are a number of them in the greater Seattle area that are incredible beyond what any single geographical are should be entitled to. Could it be the water?   She has five collections of published poetry. I have four of them. I've met her at AWP two or three conferences and my knowledge of her and her work go back a number of years.

In Martha's most recent book, Gravity Assist, published by Saturnalia Books,  she toys with all things relative to our orbit. The seen and unseen. Forces and things nearest to us and the way out. Jealous of that star in Orion that isn't~  stare without resentment.  

The collection moves quickly and touches on Gerbils in space and wings that were not given. Of course, there is your favorite and mine, Autocorrect! Someone, I don't recall who said there was math in poetry. Yes, it's there. Oh, the things Martha orbits around in this book. She tries to outdo gravity, but the words fall to the page anyway. 

But alas, the first book I read of Martha's remains my favorite - Little House of the Immaculate Conception. That's why I keep buying her books and continue to be amazed. 

More on Martha Silano found here. 


There, you have it, my Six Pack of Poet Crushes for 2019