OF CHAPBOOKS AND CHANGES

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Another month has flown by. At some point earlier this year I swore I was going to post something at least every month. Missed February, but if I type fast, I can still nail down August.

August was busy busy. Company came and went, forest fires raged all over the province and it was horribly smokey but the swimming was good.

Smoke hanging over everything, obscuring the mountains, making it hard to breathe. Ootischenia, August 2018.

I spent quite a bit of time in the basement where it was cooler. Wearing my Nose in Book Publishing hat I finished making 250 copies of a chapbook, Migration Songs, edited by Stephen Collis, Lorna Crozier and Kurt Trzcinski, which was commissioned for the International Ornithological Congress and Vancouver Bird Festival that just wrapped up in Vancouver. Eleven poets were paired with scientists to converse and write about various birds.

Cutting, scoring and folding covers

Getting the text block into the covers

Sewing chapbook with new assistant, Kiisa, keeping an eye on things

(Very heavy) box of books, ready to go!

Finished chapbook features cover art by annie ross

Table of Contents. Look at all the wonderful poets in there!

I thoroughly enjoyed putting this one together, and now I'm working on two more!

In other news, my friend and fellow poet, Bobbie Ogletree, is moving away and our poetry group is sure going to miss her. We'll still meet via the magic of Skype or FaceTime or one of those, same as we do when I'm in Mexico. But it's not the same. Bon voyage, Bobbie and Freya. Sechelt is so lucky to have you!

Susan Andrews Grace and Bobbie Ogletree

Susan and Bobbie

Jane Byers

And, in other other news, my poetry manuscript received another glowing rejection. Frankly, this is getting a little tiresome! Oh well. Back on the horse and all that.

See you in September.

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THIS LITTLE POEM

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Found Poetry Review's Day 19 prompt is from Michael Leong and goes like this: 

"When we speak of “translation” we usually refer to the process of turning a text that is written in one language into another language. But if we think about translation more broadly, we can imagine a diverse range of experimental processes that can spark new writing. All you need is to find a source text and invent a method of transforming, altering, or changing it." 

I love this idea as it differs from other translation exercises I've tried in that it allows much more in the way of inventiveness. 

As evidenced in my other blogpost of the day, I ought to be packing, so I'm going to take a short source text, one of my own poems, and I'm going to translate it by substituting all the nouns with (she looks nervously around the room) ... a euphemism for penises.

In this way, this little poem

I used to wonder

if Lorna Crozier would be sorry

to be remembered mostly

for the carrots fucking the earth poem

but now I know the main thing

is to be remembered

becomes this little poem

I used to wonder

if John Thomas would be sorry

to be remembered mostly

for the one-eyed trouser snakes fucking the willy pricks

but now I know the main schlong

is to be remembered

Lorna Crozier is a fabulous poet, by the way. Smart, funny, and deeply thoughtful. The poem I refer to is from her 1985 collection, The Garden Going On Without Us. 

So, sue me. The carrots were on the other side of the display!

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