One blog at a time

I'm not the world's best blogger - and so rather than divide my meager energies, I'm consolidating on MySpace.
If you've visited, thanks for reading - if you want to find my new home, it's at http://www.myspace.com/valerienieman

Poem for July

Here's a poem for July - my birth month, month of firecrackers and fireworks, drought and the hypnotic sound of the cicadas.

Lint

The lawn gathers mortality in July –
today, a shrew killed
in the midst of its own small predations,
long nose still
as a bluebottle investigates.
Also bird feathers,
the molt strewing them like the burst
of a dark pillow,
most being starling, from the flocks
that rustle in the bull-bay
and flare away at a slammed door.
Cigarette butts.
A cup from Jersey Mike’s.
A cicada shell,
the insect flown from its creeping life.
A single squib
from a string of firecrackers,
green tube patterned
with white flowers.
I tap it against my palm
expecting gunpowder,
but what comes out is pale, dry,
the cracklings of this season’s drought,
dust from a lawn that might
erupt on a hot evening,
each blade going off, pop pop pop pop.

from Wake Wake Wake

Missing

Susan Meyers, the wonderful poet from South Carolina, was lamenting the loss of songbirds around her home - bluebirds especially.
My parents in Southport watch their bluebird boxes, busy two years ago, sit idle.
Even the raucous mobbing of crows seems absent.
There are a lot of reasons for the absences. Land clearing in Central and South America where the passerines winter. Habitat loss to houses and mall in the U.S. where they breed. Chemicals, expanding ranges of hardier birds, predation by cats. Most recently, a major hit by the avian flu.
This essay in the New York Times was a sobering reminder of what we lose, bit by bit, until the fabric of the world that supports us all, sparrow and senator, pelican and president, is thinned to the breaking point.

Nice surprises

Hey, doing a search through the Net yields some nice surprises.
Cliff Garstang, an accomplished fictionista from Queens U, posted a nice comment about Wake Wake Wake on his blog, Perpetual Folly.
Thanks, Cliff!

Revisiting the Apocalypse

Those of us who grew up with the daily concept of the Apocalpyse (and have the gray hairs to prove it) will appreciate this short film. I'm cadging the link from Pinckney Benedict - it deserves passing along. 23 Skidoo ...
I'm interested to see what the Apocalypse looks like now. The Green Mountains Review has a special issue of contemporary end-of-the-world fiction coming out this year. I have a short story in it, in the interests of disclosure. Us oldsters read On the Beach and Alas, Babylon and pondered the inevitable nuclear demise. The options are so much more - diverse - now.

Get LIT! parties - what a hoot!

Well, I did it.
You probably did it, too.
Hosted one of those parties to sell things to your friends and patient relatives - Avon, Pampered Chef, etc.
And of course you've gone to these parties and bought things you really didn't need ... I have this great pizza stone but I never make pizza.
So check out what Press53 is doing. Here's an excerpt from Sheryl Monks' recent MySpace post about the Get LIT! parties.

"BOOKS! Of course they should be pimped in the living room. Of course I want to call up my friends and tell them about the new short story collection I'm reading, and oh, by the way, I'm having the author over next week for drinks; wanna come? What I wouldn't give for one of my friends to call me up and ask if I wanted to GET LIT! "You betcha'," I'd say.

No messy kitchen to clean up later.

No complicated points system to figure out what you've earned.

No pyramid scheme.

None of that.

As incentive for hosting a GET LIT! Book Party, Press 53 will cut right to the chase. Rather than working for discounted products--excellent as ours are--we are willing to give you a cut of whatever you sell. That's right--cold hard cash. .. And we'll also send one of our talented writers, if at all possible, to your party, so you and your friends can hobknob and get your books signed and all that exciting stuff."

You can catch up with her at sherylmonks@press53.com.

Me and the kids

Some things you just don't expect in your life.
Like finding myself in front of a microphone on Radio Disney.
You have to understand, I was a tomboy and a loner and never expected to have children. That didn't stop me from making taffy with the neighbor kids, a 30-something big kid making a mess as we pulled the sticky candy into shape. Or enjoying the company of my nephew, or others along the way.
I just never birthed any kids of my own, and so had a limited understanding of toys, games, children's literature and the management of diapers.
But when one of my students at A&T asked if I would please come talk on the radio about PoetryGSO, I agreed. It was for a good cause .... but it was Radio Disney.
What did I know about children's poetry?
The WCOG studio is in a bland brick office park on Wendover. Open the door, however, and face an assault of giant stuffed bears and Disney characters and Hillary Duff memorabilia. Chanielle and Quinton were set up at a spiffy digital radio broadcast system.
We can edit things out, they assured me, perhaps as insecure as I was about what might come out in the discussion.
But it all went well, or at least it seemed so to me. The enthusiasm I have for writing and for the annual PoetryGSO event took over. We talked about everything from Shel Silverstein to Shakespeare. They had great questions about how to start writing poems (and how to tell when they're done!) and why poetry is important.
The program will air later in April. I just wonder if they play the Mickey Mouse Club song before the guest is introduced?