Oh, you wanted to know what’s inside? Well unfortunately I can’t tell you just yet. My submission for the Writers’ Journal Write to Win! Contest has been signed, sealed and (well, almost) delivered.
First place receives $150; an honorable mention receives a 1 year subscription. Wish me luck!
Now it’s back to focusing on the novel thing.
On a side note, I attended a poetry reading in the hilly area of Wallingford, PA last night. It was (truly) a dark and stormy night, and a friend and myself climbed the winding hilltop to the Community Art center, a tiny building with an old-world feel. A bright, airy art gallery greeted us inside, amazing works of art staring out from the white walls.
Presented by the Mad Poets Society, local poet/artist Daniel Abdal-Hayy Moore read from his self-published (and extremely well put together, for self-publishing) collection of poetry, The Puzzle. All of Moore’s books can be found and purchased here. You won’t regret it!
Moore looked every bit the part of a poet: maroon turtleneck, rounded glasses at the tip of his nose, a strong, intelligent voice and a bit of scruffiness around the cheeks. I was instantly amazed by his use of language, but was blown away while he read his last poem of the night, “Life & Death”, the wind and rain blowing about through the bay window behind him.
Here’s a preview of Daniel Abdal-Hayy Moore’s poem, “Life & Death”, already dog-eared in my copy (found in his collection, The Puzzle):
“Death covered Life’s form with congenial curves and gradual movements
Life pushed forward, lifting one leg against Death’s weight
Death entered Life in a smooth silkiness and trembled
Life saw the window fill with Death’s light
Death shook the furniture and exploded inside Life’s body
Life moved around Death with slow melodious movements
Death glanced at the birds out Life’s windows fluttering away
Life saw light billow across Death’s sky”
Amazing stuff, is it not?
He signed my copy in doctor-like scribble: “For Nicole: Your smiling eyes and crazy blouse!” (Glad I wore my blouse with tubes of lipstick and colorful bottles of perfume all over it.)
Each of Moore’s books are adorned with his own collages, all of which he believes fit with the book they are assigned to.
After his reading, the small group of us that had traveled through the rain to hear Mr. Moore read chatted over cookies and vegetables, talking about our own writing and the weather outside. I had brought 5 poems with me, printed on neon orange paper (we were out of white, okay?!), and was convinced to read them in front of my intimate audience.
I’ve never read my own work in front of an audience (with the exception of my parents when I was maybe 5 or 6, and had written a poem about a ball or something similar) and have not spoken in front of one since a public speaking course about 3 years ago, but it felt good. It really did. I was received with smiles and a few small claps, and I enjoyed it.
So we survived the trip back down the hill and over the bridge, and I couldn’t be happier that we went.
Tonight at midnight I will be seeing Paranormal Activity 3! More on that later.