ISBNs and humility (not a poem)

lindastudleyLeave a comment

The book is finished. The last changes were made and uploaded. Now all I need is an ISBN. As soon as it comes, I’ll add it to the book and Ta-Freakin’-Da, my first book of poetry will be available.

Of course now comes the promotional phase! Pass me that horn will you? Time to toot it! It’s one of the hardest things for most creative people to do – self promotion.  If you’ve been raised to have even the remotest shred of modesty and/or humility, self-promotion feels pushy. But I’m gonna do it anyway!

The fact is, looking for a ‘publishing company’ who will publish the first book of poems from a (sigh) unknown poet is a bit like the proverbial search for the needle in the haystack. Let’s just say I’m not in any great danger of signing a publishing deal anytime soon!

If you’re incredibly famous already you’ll have a publicist (and a publishing deal complete with advances), but us newbies gotta work for it! And that’s okay, if we have the gumption to write we should also have the gumption to learn the self-promotion ropes and  publicize our wares.

To that end I’ve created a Facebook writing page (if I hit all the right keys, there should be a way to get there from here… what can I say – it’s a work in progress!) and I’m planning a local book launch and perhaps I’ll launch in a couple of cities in my immediate geographic sphere (of course if anyone’s interested in providing the plane fare I’ll put on a book launch pretty much anywhere!).

I’ll be carrying my books with me, talking to any media types I can track down, and I’m open to suggestions – all of you have been so helpful and supportive – if you know of anywhere else I can promote this book I’d be tickled pink to hear from you!

Soon, soon, the book will be ready soon….  😉

Linda

H2Ode

lindastudley2 Comments

Dewdrops steam
Into a dream
of cloud ascension
‘til suspension
bursts the dam and sets them free.

Raindrops dripping,
splashing, stippling
pond and puddle
washing mud filled
tributaries to the sea,

tithe the tidal
aqueous idyll,
water grumbles,
roars and rumbles,
every form and size and shape

Flume and fountain,
spilling, spouting
torrents gush,
and rivers rush
to estuarial escape.

Waves come reaching
‘cross the beach and
claw the sand
with hungry hands,
draining freshet, rill, and runnel

salty, swollen
sated ocean
‘pon reflection
pays respect in
cloudy offerings to the sun.

Clouds grow heavy
break the levee
drown the world
with water swirling
downpour, outpour, rippling rain.

And in the first
refreshing burst
the raindrops strike
and start the cycle
tithe and tears and tithe again.

Doing the Math

lindastudley2 Comments

I have spent half of my life
with you
though it feels
alternately like a moment or
an eternity.
One more reason why I know time
cannot be linear or lineal,
cannot be real or relevant.
In retrospect it seems less
amazing that I’ve spent
half of my life with you
than that I spent half of my life anywhere else.

The Man Who has Everything

lindastudleyLeave a comment

What do I give to the man who has everything?
A heart, honest and trusting?
Love, unconditional and unshakeable?
Arms, warm and open?

Do I give him a son to grow tall beside him?
A special smile;  one only he sees?
Private jokes and little ‘I love you’ notes hidden in his luggage?

What do I give to the man who is everything?
Just everything.
Every day.
Forever.

 

For my dearest partner, Bill, on his birthday. Always and forever, my love.

The Fine Line

lindastudleyLeave a comment

You start in the corners,
scooping out detritus.
Poke, poke, poke the straws in the corners
to loosen the greebles and bits.

Then the long swing to sweep it all into
the middle of the floor;
the very middle of the floor.
but the litter of dust bunnies won’t lie still.
First this way, then that, they overshoot the molehill,
jumbling, tumbling in the broom breeze.

Now lay down the dustpan flat,
press it hard against the floor,
scoot the bunnies and greebles with a swift swat.

But after sliding them all into the trash bin you turn
and see it.
The line of dirt.
The fine line of dirt the dustpan left behind,
pointing at you accusingly.

Again you sweep.
The line becomes finer.
Now sweep in the opposite direction.
The line becomes finer yet and points towards the broom closet.
Resignation settles with the dust.
Nature abhors a vacuum.
So does a fine line of dirt.

 

This was a challenge from my friend Margo. There you go Margo!

Next Step in the Publishing Process…

lindastudley4 Comments

I received a copy of my book in the mail – last chance to proof! And yes, there are STILL some goofs in it! I am going to be so sick of reading my own poems soon!!

I’ve set my deadline to have the final proofing done by the end of the week, then we’ll hit ‘print’ and be one step closer.

I’ve begun to plan a book launch and I find I’m not comfortable with a conventional launch. I keep coming back to the reason I committed myself to do the “poem a day for a year” series – the exploration of ‘spur of the moment’ creativity – the short circuiting of the internal critic – and I feel that I need to place more emphasis on that aspect. I need to encourage others to find their creative spark and nurture it.

So I’m currently working on some ideas to turn a launch into an audience participation event – maybe we’ll create a poem and post it here. Wouldn’t that be cool?

Anyway – I just wanted everyone to know that things ARE progressing and we should have the book ready to go very soon!

Thank you all for visiting, reading, commenting and sharing – it really helped get me through the ‘year’ and beyond.

🙂

Linda

The Plural of

lindastudleyLeave a comment

Add an s and you should be done
but that wouldn’t be any fun.
If singular window is windows when plural
it follows that house is houses, surely,
but put a mouse inside that house
and soon you’ll have a lot of mouses.
They’ll spread and soon there will be mice
living in all your neighbours’ hice.

If the plural of tooth is teeth
then it only seems right to me,
that though  I smooth the path for others
and they may smooth the path for me,
if we smoothed paths together
we’d have to say “we smeethed”.

Like a child in the wild
or children in the wildren
tedium for one medium
is tedia for two media.

And if someone decides to lay down and die
would two people then lie down and dice?

I think perhaps I’ve lost my focus
and wandered into hocus pocus.
If you did too, then we lost our foci
and wandered into hoci poci.