If Wishes Were Porches

Beggars could drive. Since moving to Colorado over a year ago, I have silently and verbally bemoaned the lack of poets to hang around with, talk shop, etc. Hooray for MeetUp! Having tried here in my hometown, unsuccessfully, to create such a poetry group, I had about given up on the idea. Well, the Denver Poetry Group is alive and well. We met at one of my favorite cafes last evening and had a great time. Four of the six of us brought and read work and got feedback. The variety was good, the feedback was good, but best was finding others who speak my mother tongue--poetry, right down to the effect of an n-dash in place of an m-dash. (I swear it was the computer's fault!) We laughed and drank--coffee or wine or what looked like Guinness--and compared venues for readings. There are plenty, now that I've had someone point me in the right direction. About 2am I was planning what I'd take to read first. It's going to be a busy time in po biz after all.



And--drum roll--the publisher I mentioned a few blogs back is interested in the ms! I haven't seen the contract yet, but will soon. This is a cooperative press, which means that I will share the cost of production, different from self-publishing and vanity in that there is a screening/editorial process at work here, and poets I know and trust are publishing with them. Once things firm up, I'll be giving this press a boost here. Knowing how long it takes to produce a book, even a poetry volume, I'll have to be patient, but I'm sure it will be worth it. Meanwhile, I keep whittling away at the novel, a little scared of it at times, but creeping up on it, believing that taking it in small bites works better than running away from it. I miss my colleagues from Boot Camp. If any of you are listening, get back to me and let me know how the writing goes.