On publishing, poetry, and soccer games-- the autumn chill is with us
Eighteen degrees. Yes, it's clear that autumn has settled in. I'm still working/thinking about a poem that reflects this time of year, and it's eluding me. It's a pretty thing, but that's not what it needs to be-- I need to capture the dark, the darkening. So, it's a draft. Cool. I fuddled my way around signing the contract/agreement for Kelsay for my new book. I hate this whole digital signing thing-- the signature is a messy thing, and does not look at all like my own. Seriously, who could even use it as a justification for anything legal? It looks like a 7 year old scrawled. That said, I had a photo of my actual signature from another time, and I appended it to the reply email as well. I have my pride, I guess. And so, we wait for the next step. I'm excited, but I'm also resigned-- this process takes a while. I've learned a lot about the world of smallish publishing with my two journeys with Finishing Line Press, and I have a couple of poet frien...