Archive for the ‘glory’ Category

The Next Big Thing: You Are The Meat

February 20, 2013

Long (enough) ago I decided to let this blog languish in internet purgatory, for all practical purposes dead to me and anyone else. Tyler Gobble, however, has given me some legitimate license to drag it up from its grave for a moment by tagging me in his Next Big Thing post, in which I’ll answer ten questions about my (chap)book and tag writers (up to five) who I’d like to see respond to the same set of questions. Here we go.

What is the working title of the book?

You Are The Meat. It is a chapbook.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

I mean, it’s poems. Poems come from all sorts of planets. Sometimes that planet is a drive home from a famous ice cream shop, sometimes it’s a Jimmy Eat World song, sometimes it’s Stevie Nicks. Several of these poems came from a series that I have a feeling isn’t done, is taking a brief nap, whose titles are abstract words that I’ve tried to focus on in some total intense whoa-ness that kinda takes that undergrad shame of like, “…so, I guess this poem is about love” and turns it into “Yeah this poem is about love and fuck it, I fucking love everything, here’s why.” Really, at this point in my life my central, “writing planets revolve around this star” goal with everything is to have that sort of total, thundering union between fragility and ferocity.

What genre does your book fall under?


What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?

Jennifer Lawrence would play all references to music I primarily listened to in high school and my hometown prior to 2007. Aaron Paul (Jesse from Breaking Bad) is every reference to the post-industrial Midwest. Tom Jones simultaneously plays and eats a sandwich. Katy Perry and Stevie Nicks play themselves.

What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?

Slicing open your own belly with a pocketknife and landing on a continent that has never felt acid rain.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

Everything in the chapbook got chopped and sewn and polished over the past three years on wildly differing timelines. Some things are not much different than their original drafts, some have emerged from a frustrating number of cocoons.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

I mean, feelings? But really, one of the smartest things I’ve ever been told by a significant other (thank you, Tyler) is that I’m a “feeling it” writer and that I should run with that, hard. At times that’s a frustrating thing because, you know, you get that “write every day” or “schedule your writing time” thing branded into your butt from undergrad, but a simple, solid thing I remember Sean Lovelace saying during a large Q&A session at a writers’ event at Ball State University is that if you want to write, you just will. Scheduling and goals yes, establishing discipline is valuable yes, but if you ultimately don’t want to do this shit, you just won’t. That’s a comfort to me, because I know I don’t just want to want to write, I want to write. I haven’t been doing this very long but I know now dry spells are that, spells. I’ve learned to not brush off those tiny flames of feeling brought on by whatever–and sometimes they’re small, have to be fanned–and take down whatever it is that’s feeding them in the first place. That isn’t to say I never write when I’m not absolutely “feeling it,” or ascribe to, fuck no, “the muse,” because hard work and perseverance is of course vital, but I realize there’s nothing wrong with prioritizing times/moods in which my writing work is going to result in the greatest benefit for my effort, which for me just isn’t going to be every single Tuesday from 5:30 pm ’til midnight.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

One poem mentions three fast food restaurants and Joyce Carol Oates. Another says, “Voila, beef hat!”

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

H_NGM_N will be so graciously birthing this thing in the foreseeable future.

* * *

My tagged writers for next Wednesday are:

Ben Kopel

Joseph Scapellato

Austin Hayden


This Seriously Helped My Monday Not Suck

February 14, 2011

Valentine’s is fine; stressful Mondays are not. But this made this one feel way better.


January 13, 2011

ay) I read this today and nodded a lot.

bee) I am going to this and that is a perfect 10.

Meta Monday

December 13, 2010

I will be doing this every Monday, which is like wahoo in my heart.


December 12, 2010

My friend Ashley made this great thing where I do things along with other chickz and have enthusiasm.

Some Gingerbread Things and Some Lights

December 6, 2010

This is a lovely thing.

There is snow and I am not angry.

Today My Typewriter and Camera Came Home

November 27, 2010

I think my immune system is confused and scared. It has no idea what to do, so it’s doing everything until it falls on the right thing. The right thing might be a sore throat, given its consistency, but headaches are another viable option.

Tonight I opened our deck door and a longhaired Siamese cat from nowhere nuzzled my legs. I think it’s lost, but hasn’t been lost long ’cause there’s some burs tangled in its fur but it’s still clean and soft. It zig-zagged in front of my feet going to my car, so I carried it and its eyes closed and purred with its whole body. It sat by the door when I went inside.

For the umpteenth time I’m reading Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy, which means something to me in the way dead grass patches in our backyard where posts of a swing set used to be mean something. I thought of it when the cat appeared and thought angels exist and sent me a soul because in the story people’s souls live outside themselves as animals, but my parents said the cat zig-zagged in front of their feet too.

My friends Jazz and Ariane said mine would be a phoenix but with peacock feathers and not fire ones. I don’t know if I agree but it’s nice to know someone thinks you look like rebirth and jewel colors.

If We Are Done Then Oh Shit It’s All Screwed

November 17, 2010

I was totally stupid and forgot to say how I introduced readers for Jeremy Bauer’s chapbook release reading at Village Green Records tonight in Muncie before it, you know, actually happened. Goddammit. But you should buy Jeremy’s chapbook, titled The Jackalope Wars because it will cradle your heart in a fleece blanket. Order it here you damn ol’ fool.

Also, you’ll notice where you’re orderin’ dat chapbook is my friend Tyler Gobble’s new site for publishin’ things. I’m on there and HO BOY I got emotions like flittin’ insects all pretty.

After the reading I drank a Mike’s Hard and sat on a church’s concrete ramp and wrote a thing. Hm. I feel animal and hope the moon ain’t done with me yet. Let’s howl all always yes.

You’re a city south of here and I just wanna go home.

Today’s Weather Forecast Feels Like Watching JAG Reruns In The Dark

November 16, 2010

This is a lovely story.

Sitting In Your Doorway Means “I Miss You”

October 17, 2010

Today I finished Miranda July’s collection of short stories No one belongs here more than you. The moment after I did I felt like if I said “wow” out loud I would look up and pieces of light would be floating around my head. Giving Eskimo kisses. Glowing my hair.

If, someday, I have a daughter and don’t name her Lyra, I’ll feel like I missed out on something that was supposed to happen.  I don’t believe in supposed to happen and where is this coming from?  Partly a terminal obsession with His Dark Materials,  but supposed to happen is a cruel thing because of things like multiple sclerosis and kid soldiers in the Philippines used as bullet shields and human beings and their suffering used as a means to a nebulous end in which suffering continues for many or most human beings is not justice.

Lyra is a good name.  Every advantage helps.