Summer Reading

New Brunswick Public Library Service
This is the library closest to me.
It is at Honour House Court, Riverview.

 

 

Summer reading has been summer studying.  I've switched from writing for hours a day to reading for hours a day over the past six weeks.  I'm studying the poetry I admire, to learn about how and why it works. 

Of course, I'm reading initially for enjoyment.  But when I see a poem or rather feel a poem reverberating within me, I go back to it to discover the why and how of it.  Every poet has a style and a voice, sometimes many; often changing over the span of their work.  I'm searching for those whose works have resonance with my life, my voice, my style, my work; or I with them.  And, too, exploring those different from mine.

After the initial burst of recognition and pleasure with a read, the studying begins.  It is quiet, sometimes lonely work and limited, as I don't know what I don't know.  I learn what I am able to learn and pay attention to what new areas the learning opens for me. 

I am lucky that there are generous writers and poets in my world, who have shared lists of poems and poets helpful to them in their own learning processes.  Lists have introduced me to work by my favourites writers, previously undiscovered work, and to new writers; not always new but new to me.  For that guidance, I am grateful.

Most of the books recommended are available through the New Brunswick Public Library Service.  The few which aren't, I am searching for in a store that sells used books.

At one time, when I was still working at paid employment, I would have methodically searched out these books and bought them, as funds permitted.  I love books and enjoy owning copies to remove from my shelf and read again and again.  But that extravagance is no longer possible and the library system will allow me to borrow books as often as I need.  The hunt through used book stores is a delightful tour of well loved books given up by other readers.

The summer has been about reading poetry and studying poetry.  It has been about learning to live lightly on this earth and giving up the need to own every book I read. 

It is also about the joy of discovering the intricacies and hard work that go into creating really fine poetry.  And discovering that people, whose poetry I admire to the point of feeling intimidated by their talent and craft, their hard work, are generous and kind in offering suggestions and reading lists, and their thoughts on my work.

I am thankful for these poets, for the library and for used book stores.  I have learned from each of them.  And while I will continue to read each day, it's time to return to my writing.

Thank you to every person who has helped me along the way.  You know who you are.

God of Poetry: A Writers' Retreat

 

 

God of Poetry: A Writers’ Retreat

We break bread, share wine,

a get-acquainted preamble.

Evening relaxes

sun-sweet, after hard rain;

we gather outdoors for your poetry reading.

 

From damp adirondacks, we listen;

a semi-circle of homage

and blackflies.  We lean in,

ignore spasms of itch. 

The lawn, resurrected

as bog, washes our feet.

 

We murmur entreaties:

“May there be

enough grass plastered

on toes to protect them

from feast.”

 

You stand.

A father’s gentle voice

reading stories to children.

You choose four poems;

do not want to overwhelm.

Our fingers reach

to touch the hem of your words.

You finish.  No sound.

Our heads bowed. 

 

Then you swat a blackfly

on the back of your neck

and say,

“We have to suffer for art.”

Laughter, applause;

we run back to the inn.

 

Alone in our rooms,

we each pray before sleep:

“May our stings and spilled blood

become

the stigmata

of poets.”

 

I attended an excellent retreat for writers and wrote this tongue-in-cheek poem about our first evening together, after hearing some participants respectfully and affectionately referring to our instructor as the “God of Poetry.”  He may or may not be a god, but he was helpful to me, taught me much about how to write and gave gentle, direct feedback.  Perhaps, they are correct.  Being god-like encompasses kindness, teaching by example and helping people where they are.  Oh yes, and having a sense of humor.

 

Words and photo are copyright © 2011-2013 Carol Steel.

Under Fire by Margaret McLean

Under Fire by Margaret McLean

Have you read Under Fire by Margaret McLean?  It was published in June this year by Tor Forge Macmillan, New York, NY.

If you relish mysteries, courtroom battles, intriguing stories about fires, firemen, lawyers and corruption, you’ll enjoy Under Fire.

Margaret McLean brings years of her own experience as a criminal prosecutor to her writing of this first novel.  Under Fire portrays the raw underbelly of brutal crime and dangerous prejudice, as the slowly-revealed truth and suspenseful writing push and propel the reader through this mystery-thriller. 

Every detail, of the courtroom battles, entices one to keep on reading, reading, reading, as the contradictions and surprises rush toward the deadly truth about a Boston firefighter who is shot and killed in the line of duty.

Get it!  Read it!

 

Find out more about Margaret McLean at:  http://www.margaretmclean.com 

I received a first edition copy from Goodreads.  No remuneration was given for this review; it is merely my opinion.