At last post I was preparing for New Year’s Eve, and that describes how I’ve felt, as a writer, over the past several months. I haven’t felt like writing much since November, when I took part in the Poem-a-Day Chapbook Challenge sponsored by Writer’s Digest (poetry editor Robert Lee Brewer). My resultant chapbook, Fire Ritual, did well in the competition, but since the last day of the challenge I’ve been as dry as a . . . well there you go; I have no answer.

But I do have a few thoughts. As many of you know, my Around the Sun Without a Sail was published in early December. The collection was well received, and I appreciate all the encouragement you gave me. The problem is this: I have no desire to market the book, neither do I feel a particular need to over-inundate the general public with its Amazon link. I call this a problem, though I think it’s proper to leave it alone. I find poets consistently foisting their own relevancy, which I think is a huge mistake.

Poetry is truly unique in that the reader takes from it whatever she or he will. A poet writes about, say, a dead mouse; reader A in Canada finds it apropos to his recently deceased mother; reader B in Hong Kong determines its relevancy lies in how it deftly describes a peasant revolt. The poet wrote about a dead mouse. That’s one-way communication, and if the poet goes on to describe, in prose, why or how he wrote the poem perhaps both reader A & B will walk away disappointed. They both found the poem relevant for very subjective, personal reasons. I think that’s enough.

I see, though, many poets pushing their work in some very unsatisfying ways. I recognize the importance to have ways to market yourself, and recommend personal poetry pages separate from the general news feed on Facebook. But, in the case of poetry, it’s a mistake, I think, to constantly self-promote your work. Poetry is too subjective, too personal, for readers to accept the poet’s word for how relevant he or she believes they are. The readers either get there or they don’t. If they get there, they pass the work on. It’s a huge mistake, I think, to assume you can build a poetry audience. You cannot force-feed poetry, especially your own.

I suppose it will continue. As for me, I’m happy enough that the book is out there, and that another is in the works. I have a personal poetry page on Facebook, and I only occasionally make announcements there. I sent links to the book two or three times, then stopped. I won’t foist myself on you, neither will I let my ego (strong though it is) overtake common sense. That’s it.

I want to thank those of you who visit me here, and who have so wonderfully supported me and my poetry. Your encouragement has meant very much to me. As a reminder, the book is still available just by clicking . . .

Oh no you don’t, Fenwick.

r

2012 was, for me, nearly as great as 1968. That’s the year I turned nine and received my first guitar. Three days after opening Mel Bay’s Guitar Chords I managed a C-chord without fret buzz, another two days and I was moving from C to G and back. By day seven, I’d added D and A-Minor and was playing House of the Rising Sun like every other kid in the neighborhood. I was a guitarist for 40 years, until elbow surgery ended my ability to play.

There’s a parallel here: in 2012, after years of writing and publishing poems, my first collection became available. I’m still not inclined to call myself a poet, but I will say this: I’m pleased (enough) with the book to keep writing poetry, and short of a lobotomy there are few surgeries that can end that particular ability.

So 2012 was fine. Poetry editors at Tuck Magazine, Linden Avenue Literary Journal, and Red River Review chose to publish several of my poems, for which I’m humbled and thankful. I took part in Writer’s Digest’s November Poem-a-Day Chapbook challenge, which gave me the chance to interact with poets & friends I’ve made through that venue. And while I’ve noticed that poets seem to lose their edges with age, at 53 I’m happy to report that mine is, at the very least, not completely dull.

In 2012 I interacted with my granddaughter online. She’s two years old now and has apparently selected English as her primary language. Sometimes I wonder about that decision, but she’s getting there. My daughter’s a great mother and wonderful person, and my son and I hoisted legal beers the night he turned 21 in 2012. He’s a junior at the University of Arizona, studying Chemistry, and is slowly going from son to friend.

I’m happy my kids are decent (enough) citizens, and that they haven’t, as far as I know, spent a day in jail. I’m happy my granddaughter calls my cat an “it,” and that she thinks “it’s beautiful.” I think “it’s” beautiful too, Riley. I’m glad I can run up to Phoenix to spend a weekend with my father, and that he still laughs at my jokes.

I’m going to ring in 2013 in typical fashion: on the morning of the 1st. I’m not an old man, but I’m at an age where staying up past midnight isn’t all that appealing. I pegged out my fun meter over the course of too many years, and while that was perfect I think I’ll let the up-and-coming crowd assume my place at the bar. This kid and his “it” are going to bed early.

I want to thank you for your friendship, your support, and for returning to this site every now and then. I hope your New Year’s Eve is perfect, and that you spend it surrounded by loved ones. There’s not much time for anything else.

Happy New Year to you all! For my Russian friends, c наступающим новым годом!

r

I suppose it was inevitable: the initial manuscript for Around the Sun Without a Sail contained four errors: two grammatical and two lesser tweaks. They’re fixed, and copies obtained after 18 December are devoid of those particular problems (unless commas upset you, which you’ll have to put up with).

I apologize to those of you who received the book prior to the changes…I insisted on not using a copy editor for the book, which I now realize was an error. It’s obvious that I get too close to the poems to be able to read for discrepancy; I’ll use an editor in the future.

For books purchased prior to December 18, here’s a list of the errors. Please pencil in the changes if you would:

1. Page 9, third line of the last stanza: strike the word “softly.”

2. Page 37, fifth couplet: add an “s” to the word “hover.”

3. Page 40, third line of the fourth stanza: change “are” to “is.”

4. Page 75, the last note says “page 54,” but should read “page 52.”

Again, I apologize for the errors. The manuscript as it’s currently being sold is cleanly scrubbed. Thank you for all your wonderful support to both this site and the book. I am constantly humbled by your wonderful participation in my poetry.

R