Seriously – it’s almost October?
It’s been a truly insane month since I last had the chance to post here, and I’m sad to report that not a lot of writing has been going on. I had a reading of my book at the Swift Hibernian Lounge. Here’s a photo of me reading my book from the pulpit in the back room (courtesy of Tony Brescia – thank you!), and I still think all the followers of my work and their pals should read the first installment of my magnum opus and subsequently review it on Amazon, Goodreads or Shelfari.
It was a year ago this month that I announced the start of my Kickstarter project to publish Book 1 of Ministers of Grace. I’m still amazed that I knew enough generous people to kick the in dosh to make it happen. The donation period ended the day before my 36th birthday, which made for a helluva celebration. And although it’s been almost three months that my book has been available to the world, I regularly want to pinch myself because it still doesn’t seem real.
As I approach my 37th birthday, I can comfortably declare that the last year of my life has been defined by relentless change. During my various adventures in three states, I maintained a blog during one of the temp gigs I held for a spell, followed by relocating my life back home to New York almost six months ago. The unfortunate consequence of such a major move is that I’ve not been able to devote my full attention to marketing my book in the way that I would have were my life in a more stable situation. Almost every writer I know has a day job, and given that I lack both a stable day job and a place to live (stilllllll) after almost half a year means that there is so little time and headspace available to sit down and write. I’m lucky if I can knock out a poem a month, whereas I’d been accustomed to knocking out 2,500 words a day without so much as breaking a sweat during the (albeit stagnating) tranquility of my life in New Mexico. Right now, I’m deeply grateful that I already have the first drafts of both Books 2 & 3 done, because I find that in lacking extended time periods in which to work, it’s easier to dive into the predictive calculus of redrafting vs. the comet chasing of plotting.
However, more than anything else, I’m even more grateful that I had so many incredible people who helped me get Book 1 out. The FAQ I’ve encountered most often lately is, “When is Book 2 coming out?” The short answers are, “If I have my druthers, it’ll be late next year. If I don’t, it’ll be a little bit after that.”
In the meantime, have a first draft of an 8×8 syllabic poem. It’s all I’ve got in the reserve tank.
Octaves
Ivory is a conduit,
permissive of ambient pearls
curling in a Coriolis
through the ear and far beyond the
battlements of memory to
where all the tunes you’ve ever danced
to stand at attention, waiting
for an arrow’s spark to shake your groove.
♥ EAB