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The book signing event ...

6/25/2013

A few weeks ago, I asked myself, "What is actually involved in a book signing event?" Well ... I'm just about to find this out first-hand. A new local shop, called Discover San Jose, is opening it's doors for the first time tomorrow night, and I have been invited to be there, signing copies of Echoes, Neo-Victorian Poetry that sell during this grand opening.

At the Clockwork Alchemy Convention in April, I had the privilege of selling and signing many copies of Echoes at the Author's Table. I'm assuming that tomorrow night's book signing event will be a similar situation, except that those who are expected to attend this event will include city dignitaries, and some local residents who I know fairly well.

Normally, I don't get too nervous about performing at public events. Over the past several years, I've often found myself instructing school children and adults while working at a local Tech Museum, and as a volunteer at a NASA installation. I've learned from past experience that I have a bit of a knack for public performance, so to speak.

Still, I am sensing a little apprehension as this event draws nigh. Hmm... I've never written a poem about stage fright, so now is maybe a good time to give that a go. After all, what good is such uneasiness if I can't put it to use, right? What better way to discover it's essential nature than by detailing it in a poem?

My prefered method is to allow whatever muddled thoughts and feelings are aswirl within me to pour out of my pen and onto the paper before me. I guide them as they emerge and become tangible, observable, and recognizable things. I believe that this has saved me from paying a therapist, on many occasions ... no offence to any therapists out there.

Since I expect to be busy tomorrow with book signing prep, I've decided to publish this post a day early. In the meantime, I think I'll go play with my apprehensions, look stage fright square in the eye, and see what comes of it.

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My broken blog ...

6/22/2013

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One would think that for someone who was on the internet within a year of its inception, and who has followed the modern expanse of things in the "tech" world as they occurred, I might be more savvy about something as simple as a blog. But, no. Much of what I know about computers and software and etc., I got by osmosis from those close to me.

One day last week, I lost control of this blog. No one else online could see that entire pages had gone missing, nor that headings suddenly misrepresented their content. Only I could see this. Fortunately, I had published a blog post, which promised a new poem, just before this mishap took place.

Unfortunately, in order to post that new poem, titled Phantom in the Crowd, I had to repair the damage first. Otherwise, I would also be publishing my broken blog. Eventually, I was able to rebuild the missing pages and re-assign each heading, but all the while I felt an unrelenting pressure to get that promised poem where it ought to be.

Meanwhile, I continue to work on new poems which keep springing to mind. Some of them are a thrill to write, while others seem to cause me more difficulty than they ought. In one case, the initial idea was intriguing, but I started to lose my way after only a few lines. I've decided to let it sit for awhile on my mental shelf.

Losing one's way while writing is like walking into smoke; all the things you thought you saw disappear, right before you, as you enter the haze . I have come to learn that finding them again usually requires that I allow the smoke to settle out, and to try again once the air starts to clear. There is no point in fighting with an obscured image.

However, tomorrow, I will be taking the day off from writing, and from posting here, because tomorrow is my birthday! My family has intimated that we will be very busy all day long. Owing to my love of surprises, they are withholding the details from me, and I grow increasingly excited as this evening moves on. So, nite nite, blog. I'll see you again in a few days.

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Recent stirrings ... and a new poem

6/19/2013

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Lately, and especially ever since the publication of Echoes, I've been feeling an increasing pressure to write. There are now multiple small snippets of "would be" poems in the "Poetry" box, in all sorts of formats, and each is calling for my attention. "What in the world is going on here?" I ask. Why do I now feel pulled to write several times day?" It's as if something new has been unleashed.

For most of these many years of writing poetry, once a piece was finished I would show it to my family and my friends, think the poem over a few more times, and then put it into the "Poetry" box. Done. From time to time I would pull them out, look them over, or share them with someone new to me, and ultimately back into the box they'd go.

Now and then, a new idea would come to mind and I'd jot it down, and there might be quite a long span of time between finished poems. Ah, but Echoes, my first published book of my of verse, has changed all of that, and my poetic juices are all the more active for it. There is a new sense of purpose in writing in rhyme: producing yet another published book, and then others, of my work.

Right now, all of those snippets of verse are screaming to be completed. "Why?" I ask. "Do they all want to be in the next book?" Well, apparently so, and yesterday I finished such a one. It's called Phantom in the Crowd, and this poem has been languishing and calling out to me from within the "Poetry" box for several years now.

When I originally wrote the first few lines of Phantom, they floated in my brain for several minutes, until the air went out of them. So, I acquiesced to shelve them temporarily. Some months later I looked at those lines again, but Phantom stared back at me blankly. All the while, I was writing other verses which I sometimes completed.

Yesterday, I revisited Phantom in a Crowd, and I realized that I did have a few more lines to add, and then a few more, and so on. Several hour later, I had a finished draft, followed by another hour of tweaking. I showed it to my family, which confirmed my own suspicions that it wasn't quite there yet. Hmm...

I have come to realize that poems often need a lot of time to fully emerge, and that finished pieces always require some patience on my part so that they can gel. Phantom was a huge reminder of this, and yesterday, at last, it was done, actually done! My innate governing senses relaxed and then melted into a sweet relief.

Phantom has had many hours now to settle out, and a fresh look at it today affirms that it is indeed done. I have added Phantom in the Crowd to my poems here, under the "Other" heading. After so many attempts over such a protracted length of time, Phantom is ready to for it's unveiling. Enjoy!

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Writing rhyming verses ... one approach.

6/16/2013

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Rhyming ... iambic pentameter ... how is it done? That's not an easy thing to pin down, and some will tell you that there are as many ways to approach this as there are poets who write in rhyming verse. Even my own approach doesn't use the same formula over and over, but I would like to share one of my own techniques here.

Sometimes an experience will bring to mind an initial sentence, such as witnessing intoxicated people roaming my downtown neighborhood around two or three A.M. My first line might be: 'This neighborhood has been my home..." At this point, I could be working up a protest piece , a merely descriptive tome, or maybe an insightful narrative.

Keeping in mind the impetus of this poem, it may lend itself towards a possible protest piece with the next line: "A place to grow and thrive." The feelings of these words, and my mindset at the time, quickly dictate which way this poem is heading, and at this point I'm considering possible rhymes to match the meter that is emerging.

Then comes the line, "A thing of fresh vitality..." Ah, now I'm sensing a wistful sentence, such as, "With promise as it's guide." In this poem, I am both writing the poem, and taking dictation from the poem, simultaneously. As I move along the idea, it all starts coming together in bits and pieces. Finding a rhyme that is not forced is key here.

If, at this point, if I start to have trouble finding a perfect or a near rhyme, I might resort to my Thesaurus. I caution here that, though a Thesaurus is a wonderful tool for jogging the mind, it is a cheat to simply pick a word that rhymes, and can easily lead to making obvious forced rhymes that can ruin the poem.

I enjoy letting the lists of related words in the Thesaurus carry me on in encyclopedic fashion, because this often invokes directions I could not have anticipated. When this occurs I might decide to change the meter and/or the rhyme of the poem based on that idea, not just on a word, that will take the poem further, and deeper.

If one line in the poem stands out as above the rest, then it becomes my standard in the piece and I must set to work bringing all the other lines up to that level. Sometimes, this requires that I replace the first line with another of the lines, and etc. This has now become an all consuming puzzle that I am driven to figure out.

Now, back to the poem I was writing, at this point I still don't know how it will end, but I am definitely intrigued. Line by line it is taking shape as I constantly edit the work back and forth between the lines with each new addition. I keep asking: is it still working? Does it make sense? Does anything feel at all forced? Does it ring through?

Even when I've finished a poem I am not entirely sure of it. The work needs to settle for a bit, so I'll set it aside and move on to other activities. When, say, an hour has passed, I'll review it again, asking the same or similar questions of it. I'll show it to someone and wait for their response to it. In this case, I have set it here, below, for you to review:

Knuckle-Dragging Yobs

This neighborhood has been my home
A place to grow and thrive
A thing of fresh vitality
With promise as it's guide.

But now I fear, these past few years,
A creature has arrived,
A savage thing of habits mean
That howls deep in the night.

It acts out with abandon
It's vices, old and new
Well past the Sun's last radiance
In clear and open view.

Would that they might not terry,
But crawl back into their holes
And there reside for all of time
Far from my own abode.

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Sunshine Award ... not my usual post, but ...

6/12/2013

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I was just informed that I have received an honorary nomination for a Sunshine Award, which is awarded to: "bloggers who brighten people’s lives." I am honored, and I am very pleased, to be considered for such an award.

There are a few rules to this award, which include answering a few questions and nominating other bloggers, as you can read below. Seldom one to shirk what could be a growth spurt experience, and in the interest of seeing this through, I am posting the following:

I gratefully accept this nomination from Elizabeth Bergquist of http://dragonplume.wordpress.com

My nominations for a Sunshine Award are:

Elizabeth Bergquist of http://dragonplume.wordpress.com
Emily thompson: http://clockworktwist.com
Michael Randall: http://pigpog.com
Kayauala: http://imagery77.blogspot.com
sass & bide: http://blog.sassandbide.comSherry Marr: http://stardreamingwithsherrybluesky.blogspot.com
Vivian France: http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com
Pam DeLoach: http://expressionso.blogspot.com
Kelly Russell Agodon :http://www.agodon.com
M.C. Allen: http://ecstaticdoggerel.blogspot.com

My Favorite Color: teal (because it reminds me of a sunny day)
My Favorite Animal: albatross (because they are nurturing mates)
My Favorite Number: 9 (it makes me smile)
My Favorite Non-Alcoholic Beverage: water (it refreshes naturally)
My Favorite Alcoholic Beverage: Shiraz (it's a gentle way to end the day)
Facebook or Twitter: Facebook (because of the wonderful feedback I receive there)
My Passions: writing poetry, preparing international cuisine, discovering new things.
Giving or Receiving Gifts: Giving gifts reminds me how fortunate I am.
My favorite part of this award is the recognition, of course, and having the opportunity to nominate and encourage other writers.
Favorite City: Fecamp, France, where the air is crisp and clean, the food is luscious, and the people are wonderfully friendly.
Favorite TV Shows: I don't watch much TV, but when I do I tend to gravitate towards Once Upon a time, Dr. Who, and Warehouse 13.

This was a fun diversion. thank you, Ms. Bergquist, for gently shaking my tree.

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My particular writing process ...

6/9/2013

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I recently met many new poets, who are discovering their ability to write poetry, and I became very excited. The promise of their muses was in their smiles as we talk together about rhyme and meter and the things we long to write about. It is for them in particular, and for any and all who are interested, that I thought I would try to detail my own writing process.

When a poem is begging to be written, I go into what appears to be a sort of semi-trance as I focus on an idea that is forming within my mind. Writing poetry, in my case, involves delving into the aura of an idea to the near exclusion of all else. Anyone who knows me can tell that I'm writing a poem by the absent responses I give and by my detached stare.

All the while, I am investigating the temperature inside the poem, as well as the lighting, and the overall feel of it's environment. I love to reveal these details by inference whenever possible rather than by direct statements of fact. To do this, my must live within my poem as it moves and grows and takes on shape.

In Echoes, Neo-Victorian Poetry, there is a poem titled Fox. It took me three weeks to complete that poem, and each time I approached it, I had to dive back down inside of it until I could see all that was in there, feel the coldness on my skin and the sand beneath my feet, and so on. Only when I got to that level could I write.

Essentially, I let a poem lead me on in it's direction while keeping a careful eye to the rhyming scheme, the meter, and the apparent intent of the piece. I edit as I go along on this journey, laboring with the choice of words and their application, so that the clearest possible images are there in my poem. So, as to my process, there it is for all to see.

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Writing in rhyme 101

6/6/2013

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"Wow! You can rhyme?" What a sweet acknowledgement that has been, and yet how sad. Since the early 1900's, give or take, the popular notion of rhyming has been discredited as a passe writing form. Negatively censured as being "romantic," this style of poetry has been pushed aside in favor of prose, and other modern forms, for much of the twentieth century.

I have no issue with modern, avant garde artists; they breathe new energies into poetry. I like to stretch the limits occasionally, also. For instance, it was invigorating when I attempted to emulate Lawrence Ferlinghetti, and other beat poets, for a while. What I learned from them enhanced my work in ways that I could not have anticipated. That experience also grounded me in the knowledge of who I am as a rhyming poet.

What bothers me, though, is that the current voices of modern poetry still tend to teach predominantly about prose, admonish all other forms of writing, and to relegate anyone who rhymes to the back of the room. It is disquieting, dangerous, and dishonest that blossoming poets today are dissuaded from becoming lyric poets.

That I, as a modern-day rhyming poet, have come as a surprise to so many of the poets I meet proves only to illustrate today's writing climate. I am hoping to help dispel this current trend by releasing my work into the mix, and by encouraging others to give rhyming works a chance. After all, all forms of poetry are viable.

To any and all who are interested in writing lyrical poetry, my advice is that you begin by reading the works of the lyric poets, as I did . Immerse yourself in the poetry of Edgar Allen Poe, Edna St Vincent Millay, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, to name a few, and over time, you will become acquainted with the subtle nuances in their work. Find and follow their timeless templates. It is always a worthy endeavor to learn and to write poems that rhyme.

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Adventures in marketing.

6/3/2013

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Marketing a new book, especially a first book, is a fascinating process. Since the debut of Echoes at the Clockwork Alchemy Convention, I'm also finding this a fun process,. Fortunately, I happen to love networking and socializing, which takes the edge off of the more daunting aspects of this endeavor.

I was also very fortunate to meet several seasoned and supportive Steampunk authors at the convention, some of whom I shared a vendor's table with. I studied their setups, listened to their sales techniques, asked for advice as I saw the need, and stood in at their tables whenever someone needed a short reprieve.

I cannot imagine a smoother initiation into a world I had never even thought possible, but here I am advertising and selling a book that is barely two months old. I owe so much of this to the authors who still lend me counsel and who provide a brilliant template for me to follow.

So, here is a portion of what I am learning, so far, is this:
Befriend those in the field who you admire, who are approachable, and be prepared to support them in turn.
Join every social media site at your disposal, including the sites of other authors.
Reach out to every potential customer, even those who don't, at first, seem interested.
Believe enthusiastically in you work, and project that energy towards everyone.
Be patient: it may take a bit of time for your work to catch on.

At this juncture, I would like to thank a few people who have welcomed me into their midst, and to recommend their work to you:
Emily Thompson, author of Clockwork Twist
Emily Watasin, author of The Dark Victorian: Risen, and Dark Victorian: Bones
T. E. MacArthur, author of The Volcano Lady, Vol 1 and 2
Sharon Cathcart, author of Eye of the Beholder, A Novel of the Phantom of the Opera

Whew! Time to breath a little and take it all in. Oh, I may be making an announcement soon. Well, so much for breathing. In any event, I'll keep you posted.

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