**I'm BAAAAAACK!**

Just a quick note today, but after a few months of pretending to live like a non-poet, I have decided to embrace my fate and recommit to the Writing Life. I have several projects in the works, and a reading on Oct. 1 at the Beahive in uptown Kingston (part of Phillip's Levine's COW series), so I need to be back on the poetic ball. Bohemian Book Bin in November and Vooreheesville in December are a couple others readings I see on my dance card.

Wondering whether I should put another chapbook together on my own, or put some energy into shopping manuscripts around to some of the smaller presses. What's your opinion? I like the artistic control of doing it all myself, but of course being published by an outside entity is tremendously satisfying and validating. Perhaps I'll do both...

I think writing time will have to be carved out of the evenings. Mornings are a little rough lately, what with the back out and the allergies due to come back in full force any day now...  So, I'll be cutting way back on the Netflix dinners with my Beloved Roomie, TMM. Except for "Gomer Pyle, USMC"...

*Green Eyes & the Green-Eyed Monster*

            Just so you don't all get the idea that I'm the benevolent, generous and all-supportive Poetry Diva of the Hudson Valley you thought I was, you should know that a friend shared a pre-production layout of a postcard promoting a first book of poetry, to be published by a real press, and after my initial thrill, the very next emotion I experienced was jealousy. I feel like the last kid to get my ears pierced, despite my many self-published products, appearances of my work in over 40 literary journals and my recent success with the RANDOM WRITING poetry workshop. I think what pushed me over the edge were the three endorsements for the book, written by mutual friends. Wonderful, insightful remarks all, but I really wished they’d been about my work.

            Not that I often think my work is worthy of professional publication. I know how much sweat and blood my friend put into the preparation of that manuscript. I helped with the revisions, and had the opportunity to read a large chunk of this work all at once, the same experience readers will have when they order the book. Dues have been paid and publication earned. I fluctuate about the quality/value of my work between somewhat worthy and total crap. I don't write this to fish for compliments. It is really what's happening between my ears. I continue to write mainly because I continue to need to express myself, to witness, to shoot my mouth off in a subtle way that I suspect will deteriorate over time into blatant curmudgeony haiku. 

            I am also very aware of the serendipitous nature of the publication game itself. I have often read published works that very clearly illuminate the sexual relationship that surely exists between editor and poet. I do know black from white. My efforts at publication have also been intermittent at best, and life at large usually gets the best of me these days. I have work out now, not much new but little circulated. Coming back to it a few years after its composition, I had the ability to cast a fresh eye on it, and saw it was good. Good enough for publication? I don't have that answer. All I know is no one will publish poetry that's still in my computer files. Otherwise, I'd have been the new Plath by now. Although Sexton had more fun.

            Incidently, I wish my friend nothing but the best in this endeavor, and am honored to have been included so intimately in the process. I'll keep you all posted, and you'd really be doing yourself a favor to pre-order when the time arrives. 55 must be pre-sold for publication to take place, a practical stance for a 21st century publisher to take. I'll keep you posted.

*For Enid With Love & Home Planet News*

I received in the mail yesterday morning a copy of a new festschrift, or collection of writings dedicated to a scholar of note. For Enid With Love is for Enid Dame, and saying I'm pleased and honored to be included doesn't begin to express my appreciation. Enid Dame and Donald Lev were the founders of Home Planet News, an old-style tabloid that features poetry, short stories and essays. Their politics is apparent in Donald's notes at the beginning of each issue, but they never dominate or infringe on the writings therein. Since 1979 Home Planet News has appeared sporadically throughout New York City and the Hudson Valley, and since Enid's death in 2003, Donald has continued on alone, supported by a faithful group of editors and supporters.

Also included in the festscrift (a word I became familiar with during the time I worked for Norman Levine at Editions, his eclectic used and rare book business based in Boiceville, NY) are such heavyweights as Ed Sanders, Bob Holman and Janine Pomme Vega. Hudson Valley poets include Larry Carr and Matt Spireng, among others. I was familiar with Enid and Donald from hearing them at readings, sporadic chats afterwards, and of course, their publication. I was thoroughly intimidated by both of them, not because they were overbearing or arrogant people, but because they were so thoroughly accomplished in their art. Their average Bohemian style, Enid in her Mexican embroidered dresses, Donald in his suspenders and scuffed totes full of newspapers and chapbooks, belied their finely crafted poetry.

Ultimately, I and a couple other friends hired Enid for a private poetry workshop, not long before she died, as it turned out. Her insight into the art of the midrashic poem, a concept she borrowed from Jewish intellectuals and made her own, was also a peek into her own creative process. I should have recorded it, but only have my usual illegible notes to remember it by. Who knew it would be my last chance to work so intimately with Enid? I regret allowing my shyness to rob me of years of her acquaintance that could have been more productive, for me at least.

But, no one can take her poems away, and For Enid With Love includes a teasing sample of her work. I have only started it, after having of course checked the spelling in my own contribution (looks OK), but I look forward to reading more, seeing what I miss, mourning with the others that this bright talent, warm soul departed much, much too early. For Enid With Love can be purchased directly from the publisher, NYQ Books, at www.nyqbooks.org for $16.95.

Meanwhile, Donald struggles financially in these lean times to produce every issue of Home Planet News. This accounts for its even more sporadic appearances throughout the course of the year. A fundraiser is coming up in November at the Bohemian Book Bin in Kingston (http://www.bohemianbookbin.com/), but don't feel compelled to wait that long to subscribe, or contribute. 3 issues are $12, and a special sustaining subscription is just $50 for life. Send your checks to: Home Planet News, PO Box 455, High Falls, NY 12440. Or, catch Donald at one of the many Hudson Valley readings he attends every month. His presence continues to enlighten and delight us, as does Enid's memory.