So I’m part of this. My poem “The Bearded Prophet” from my first collection “Following Hope”. More info when I have it!
Showing posts with label Following Hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Following Hope. Show all posts
Sunday, August 26, 2018
Thursday, January 8, 2015
The "Fingers" Broadside to be Included in Traveling Art Exhibit
The Kentucky Association of Sexual Assault Programs (KASAP)'s The Rising Center's "No More" traveling art exhibit to raise awareness to end sexual and domestic violence has selected the "Fingers" Broadside to be included. The art exhibit will travel throughout the state of Kentucky in 2015, after which the broadside will be auctioned off at the Rising Center's discretion. The broadside features the much-praised poem "Fingers" from the collection "Following Hope" (Xlibris, 2007). It was designed and printed especially for this purpose on January 4, 2015. There is only one (1) in existence. For more info, visit http://therisingcenter.org/index.php/en/
Monday, July 14, 2014
How I Met Nobel Prize Winning Poet Seamus Heaney
Just about everybody has a Seamus Heaney story. Prior to his death on August 30, 2013, he was the most generous, humble, and well-traveled living poet. Here is my story.(Originally posted on Yahoo! Voices on July 19, 2010 in response to an assignment asking for first-person accounts of meeting celebrities.)
Seamus Heaney is a Nobel prize-winning poet from Ireland who has published at least eleven distinct books of poetry. His work is almost universally accepted with pleasure. His popularity has been compared to that of W.B. Yeats before him. He was born on April 13, 1939 in Northern Ireland and much of his writing is about his memories of childhood in a time that is all but gone. It also addresses such generationally and nationally important events as the "Troubles" and his collection District and Circle contains what could be called a response to the world-shaking events of September 11, 2001.
On May 5, 2006, he gave his first (and, as it turned out, only) reading in the state of Kentucky, U.S.A. at the Great Hall of the King Library at the University of Kentucky, Lexington, KY. U.S.A. This was to support the release of District and Circle, which was officially released in the U.S. on the date of this reading. Also, it was to be a major part of an exhibition to celebrate Ireland's Nobel laureates called "Four Irish Nobel Laureates - W. B. Yeats, George Bernard Shaw, Samuel Beckett, Seamus Heaney."
A colleague of mine who teaches at the University of Kentucky knows that Mr. Heaney is my favorite poet. Paul Evans Holbrook, the director of King Library Press and Special Collections & Digital Programs Division, informed me that Mr. Heaney would be at the University, what day, and where. He also emailed me an official invitation to the event.
I was still a young poet then. It was the first time I had ever attended a literary event, and it was also my first time on a college campus. I was very nervous, not knowing what to expect. I came armed with the first Seamus Heaney book I ever owned: Opened Ground: Selected Poems, 1966-1996, a gift from friends of mine who also love poetry and support my writing. And, in perpetuation of a cliché in Heaney's life, I also brought the manuscript for what became my debut poetry collection Following Hope (Xlibris, 2007).
The King Library is kind of tucked away on the U.K. Campus. My Grandmother, Mother, and little sister, and I had some difficulty finding it. We definitely got our exercise walking the sprawling campus in search of the old building. Once inside, I was immediately charmed by it. It had a stateliness about it and was filled with the beautifully musty smell of old books. The rare manuscripts, books, and miscellaneous writing paraphernalia on display was irresistibly fascinating. The Great Hall itself was a cavernous white space with hard wood flooring and a delightful echoing effect.
Copies of District and Circle were on sale upon first entering the King Library, but an attempt to secure one proved impossible. They were sold out by the time I got to the table. I later ordered a copy on the Internet.
The exhibition was mostly in the Great Hall itself. By the time my party and I arrived, there were already many present in the Hall. Mr. Heaney himself was taking a look at the exhibition with a young man. So screwing up my beleaguered courage (I am naturally shy and therefore prone to getting "star-struck"), I approached him as he was looking at a picture of his much younger self and a copy of "Digging", a poem widely regarded as his first mature work and his emerging manifesto as it were.
"Will you sign my book?" I offered him the copy I had brought of Opened Ground, opened to my favorite poem of his to date, "Station Island". The young man with him (who I later learned was Heaney's son Christopher) looked down at me (I'm short) and said with an Irish accent: "Usually, books are signed after the reading." I was devastated at having committed such a terrible faux pas! I dribbled out some kind of apology, explaining that this was the first event I had been able to attend. I'm sure Christopher Heaney meant nothing by it, but I was that fragile in the moment. Mr. Heaney looked as embarrassed as I was and graciously signed the bottom of the page. Apologizing again, I took my leave to find a seat.
The Hall was soon packed. Eventually, my party had to be split up in order to find seats. My mother and I sat together about mid-way of the Hall and my grandmother and little sister sat together a couple of rows behind us. By the time the reading began, there were people lining the walls of the Hall and crowded in the corridor outside straining to catch a word. The official tally of the audience that day is 300.
Mr. Heaney's entourage of family and friends was briefly introduced to the audience and applauded. Then he began to read. Mr. Heaney's deep, musical voice carried well throughout the Great Hall despite the lack of sound equipment. Sometimes, it was a little difficult to follow the commentary and introductions to the poems because his accent was much thicker in person than the recordings I had heard of him up to that time. He read a wide selection of his work. Some were old favorites ("Mid-Term Break", "Digging", "Postscript") and some were new poems from District and Circle. He carefully covered the whole spectrum of his career. He read for at least an hour and was given a standing ovation. He humbly declined an encore.
There was a reception following in the room where the books had been for sale and the Special Collection displays were. Mr. Heaney was seated at a table and people lined up to have their books signed. It was clear that this was his first visit to the University. He looked as nervous as I was!
At this point, my family began urging me to get in line and give him the manuscript I had brought for that purpose. But what little confidence I had had received a fatal blow during our encounter before the reading. I was overwhelmed by everything into near-paralysis. Eventually, my mother all but dragged me into line and up to the table.
"Oh, it's you again!" Mr. Heaney said, smiling. I found I had no ability to speak, which only served to further embarrass me. My mother snatched the manuscript out of my hand and held it out, saying something along the lines of "This is my daughter, Sabne Raznik. She's trying to have this published. Could you, please, read it over sometime and tell her what you think?" He took it and gently said: "I can't promise anything. But I'll take a peep at it." This emboldened my mother who then asked: "How about a picture together?" He agreed and I stepped behind the table and leaned over so that our heads were as even as I could manage without his having to stand. Mom took the picture.
And I insisted we leave as soon as possible. I had thoroughly enjoyed myself, but was a definite fish out of water. In the years since, I have attended several literary events, mostly in support of that manuscript now known as Following Hope. I hope that I would be more comfortable if I ran into Mr. Heaney again. Who knows?
He was never able to get back to me regarding the manuscript. He had a stroke later that year, and was forced to completely clear his calendar for a year while he recovered. He did eventually make a complete recovery and is even now very busy with new writing, new projects, and appearances. He turned seventy last year (2009) which was a cause of national celebration in Ireland. And I have the picture on the nightstand next to my bed- a reminder that: yes, I am a poet.
Updated from original: I was completely shocked and undone by Seamus Heaney's unexpected death last year, and am still mourning it. I'm not sure if I can bear the inevitable eventual printing of his "Collected Poems". The finality of such a volume is unthinkable even now. To assuage my grief even a little I have been slowly reading through all his works again and attempting to acquire those I do not yet own. Because it is chiefly through those words that I came to know the man - and they were enough, for I feel as though I have lost a father of sorts. An artistic father, if you will. I have also inscribed some words from "Station Island" on a partition half-wall in my apartment. These are a reminder of the poet's duty: "You've listened long enough, now strike your note".
Friend of Heaney and fellow poet Paul Muldoon said in the eulogy what for me is the most touching quote of the funeral mass: "I flew into Belfast International Airport yesterday morning…. The border security officer was interested in what I was doing in the US. I told him I was a teacher, and he asked me what I taught. I said, “poetry.” And he looked at me directly, and he said, “You must be devastated today.”
Seamus Heaney is a Nobel prize-winning poet from Ireland who has published at least eleven distinct books of poetry. His work is almost universally accepted with pleasure. His popularity has been compared to that of W.B. Yeats before him. He was born on April 13, 1939 in Northern Ireland and much of his writing is about his memories of childhood in a time that is all but gone. It also addresses such generationally and nationally important events as the "Troubles" and his collection District and Circle contains what could be called a response to the world-shaking events of September 11, 2001.
On May 5, 2006, he gave his first (and, as it turned out, only) reading in the state of Kentucky, U.S.A. at the Great Hall of the King Library at the University of Kentucky, Lexington, KY. U.S.A. This was to support the release of District and Circle, which was officially released in the U.S. on the date of this reading. Also, it was to be a major part of an exhibition to celebrate Ireland's Nobel laureates called "Four Irish Nobel Laureates - W. B. Yeats, George Bernard Shaw, Samuel Beckett, Seamus Heaney."
A colleague of mine who teaches at the University of Kentucky knows that Mr. Heaney is my favorite poet. Paul Evans Holbrook, the director of King Library Press and Special Collections & Digital Programs Division, informed me that Mr. Heaney would be at the University, what day, and where. He also emailed me an official invitation to the event.
I was still a young poet then. It was the first time I had ever attended a literary event, and it was also my first time on a college campus. I was very nervous, not knowing what to expect. I came armed with the first Seamus Heaney book I ever owned: Opened Ground: Selected Poems, 1966-1996, a gift from friends of mine who also love poetry and support my writing. And, in perpetuation of a cliché in Heaney's life, I also brought the manuscript for what became my debut poetry collection Following Hope (Xlibris, 2007).
The King Library is kind of tucked away on the U.K. Campus. My Grandmother, Mother, and little sister, and I had some difficulty finding it. We definitely got our exercise walking the sprawling campus in search of the old building. Once inside, I was immediately charmed by it. It had a stateliness about it and was filled with the beautifully musty smell of old books. The rare manuscripts, books, and miscellaneous writing paraphernalia on display was irresistibly fascinating. The Great Hall itself was a cavernous white space with hard wood flooring and a delightful echoing effect.
Copies of District and Circle were on sale upon first entering the King Library, but an attempt to secure one proved impossible. They were sold out by the time I got to the table. I later ordered a copy on the Internet.
The exhibition was mostly in the Great Hall itself. By the time my party and I arrived, there were already many present in the Hall. Mr. Heaney himself was taking a look at the exhibition with a young man. So screwing up my beleaguered courage (I am naturally shy and therefore prone to getting "star-struck"), I approached him as he was looking at a picture of his much younger self and a copy of "Digging", a poem widely regarded as his first mature work and his emerging manifesto as it were.
"Will you sign my book?" I offered him the copy I had brought of Opened Ground, opened to my favorite poem of his to date, "Station Island". The young man with him (who I later learned was Heaney's son Christopher) looked down at me (I'm short) and said with an Irish accent: "Usually, books are signed after the reading." I was devastated at having committed such a terrible faux pas! I dribbled out some kind of apology, explaining that this was the first event I had been able to attend. I'm sure Christopher Heaney meant nothing by it, but I was that fragile in the moment. Mr. Heaney looked as embarrassed as I was and graciously signed the bottom of the page. Apologizing again, I took my leave to find a seat.
The Hall was soon packed. Eventually, my party had to be split up in order to find seats. My mother and I sat together about mid-way of the Hall and my grandmother and little sister sat together a couple of rows behind us. By the time the reading began, there were people lining the walls of the Hall and crowded in the corridor outside straining to catch a word. The official tally of the audience that day is 300.
Mr. Heaney's entourage of family and friends was briefly introduced to the audience and applauded. Then he began to read. Mr. Heaney's deep, musical voice carried well throughout the Great Hall despite the lack of sound equipment. Sometimes, it was a little difficult to follow the commentary and introductions to the poems because his accent was much thicker in person than the recordings I had heard of him up to that time. He read a wide selection of his work. Some were old favorites ("Mid-Term Break", "Digging", "Postscript") and some were new poems from District and Circle. He carefully covered the whole spectrum of his career. He read for at least an hour and was given a standing ovation. He humbly declined an encore.
There was a reception following in the room where the books had been for sale and the Special Collection displays were. Mr. Heaney was seated at a table and people lined up to have their books signed. It was clear that this was his first visit to the University. He looked as nervous as I was!
At this point, my family began urging me to get in line and give him the manuscript I had brought for that purpose. But what little confidence I had had received a fatal blow during our encounter before the reading. I was overwhelmed by everything into near-paralysis. Eventually, my mother all but dragged me into line and up to the table.
"Oh, it's you again!" Mr. Heaney said, smiling. I found I had no ability to speak, which only served to further embarrass me. My mother snatched the manuscript out of my hand and held it out, saying something along the lines of "This is my daughter, Sabne Raznik. She's trying to have this published. Could you, please, read it over sometime and tell her what you think?" He took it and gently said: "I can't promise anything. But I'll take a peep at it." This emboldened my mother who then asked: "How about a picture together?" He agreed and I stepped behind the table and leaned over so that our heads were as even as I could manage without his having to stand. Mom took the picture.
And I insisted we leave as soon as possible. I had thoroughly enjoyed myself, but was a definite fish out of water. In the years since, I have attended several literary events, mostly in support of that manuscript now known as Following Hope. I hope that I would be more comfortable if I ran into Mr. Heaney again. Who knows?
He was never able to get back to me regarding the manuscript. He had a stroke later that year, and was forced to completely clear his calendar for a year while he recovered. He did eventually make a complete recovery and is even now very busy with new writing, new projects, and appearances. He turned seventy last year (2009) which was a cause of national celebration in Ireland. And I have the picture on the nightstand next to my bed- a reminder that: yes, I am a poet.
Updated from original: I was completely shocked and undone by Seamus Heaney's unexpected death last year, and am still mourning it. I'm not sure if I can bear the inevitable eventual printing of his "Collected Poems". The finality of such a volume is unthinkable even now. To assuage my grief even a little I have been slowly reading through all his works again and attempting to acquire those I do not yet own. Because it is chiefly through those words that I came to know the man - and they were enough, for I feel as though I have lost a father of sorts. An artistic father, if you will. I have also inscribed some words from "Station Island" on a partition half-wall in my apartment. These are a reminder of the poet's duty: "You've listened long enough, now strike your note".
Friend of Heaney and fellow poet Paul Muldoon said in the eulogy what for me is the most touching quote of the funeral mass: "I flew into Belfast International Airport yesterday morning…. The border security officer was interested in what I was doing in the US. I told him I was a teacher, and he asked me what I taught. I said, “poetry.” And he looked at me directly, and he said, “You must be devastated today.”
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Making Physical Books Unique and Collectible
(Originally posted on Word Weavers blog on November 13, 2012.)
NPR had a discussion on the Morning Report on November 6, 2012 about how Random House and Penguin are possibly merging (they did eventually merge) due to the rather negative impact that digital publications are having on physical books. That is, except coffee table books and art books. These are generally large, trophy books. They tend to be expensive, but they continue to sell well. Why? Because they are extraordinary books and usually collectible.
The average person now expects a book to be more than a book. They want it to be a completely rounded work of art in every way. As a poet, I tried to take a lesson from that years ago when I read a blog (Well-Read Life) which argued for writing in and annotating your books, because doing so will make them heritage items, something people want to save because of the personal mark you made in them.
That is why I demand to maintain full control of my books, including inside and cover images. Even though, so far, this has meant that I have to publish independently. Because now - more than ever before in history - every aspect of the finished product is important. It is not just about the words anymore. It is about multi-media and presentation. Without these, your book will never even be seen, let alone read.
These days, authors have to be more than wordsmiths. We have to be complete artists and obsessive about the whole package. It takes an industriousness and determination that may be completely unknown to past generations of authors. Also, when a reader buys a copy of my book "Following Hope" from eBay, not only do I sign it, but I try to include a note specific to that copy and date my signature. We must make our books unique to sell them, we must write better and stronger than ever before, we must be creative in multiple ways.
The book will survive, just as the radio has survived television, and both of those have survived the internet. The question is: will it be your book? The answer depends much on the effort you are willing to put into your work.
NPR had a discussion on the Morning Report on November 6, 2012 about how Random House and Penguin are possibly merging (they did eventually merge) due to the rather negative impact that digital publications are having on physical books. That is, except coffee table books and art books. These are generally large, trophy books. They tend to be expensive, but they continue to sell well. Why? Because they are extraordinary books and usually collectible.
The average person now expects a book to be more than a book. They want it to be a completely rounded work of art in every way. As a poet, I tried to take a lesson from that years ago when I read a blog (Well-Read Life) which argued for writing in and annotating your books, because doing so will make them heritage items, something people want to save because of the personal mark you made in them.
That is why I demand to maintain full control of my books, including inside and cover images. Even though, so far, this has meant that I have to publish independently. Because now - more than ever before in history - every aspect of the finished product is important. It is not just about the words anymore. It is about multi-media and presentation. Without these, your book will never even be seen, let alone read.
These days, authors have to be more than wordsmiths. We have to be complete artists and obsessive about the whole package. It takes an industriousness and determination that may be completely unknown to past generations of authors. Also, when a reader buys a copy of my book "Following Hope" from eBay, not only do I sign it, but I try to include a note specific to that copy and date my signature. We must make our books unique to sell them, we must write better and stronger than ever before, we must be creative in multiple ways.
The book will survive, just as the radio has survived television, and both of those have survived the internet. The question is: will it be your book? The answer depends much on the effort you are willing to put into your work.
Friday, July 11, 2014
A Brief Conversation with Irish Poet Michael O'Dea
(Originally published on July 10, 2008 on Yahoo! Voices.)
I contacted Michael first through his website. He humored a young aspiring, but somewhat shut-in, poet by agreeing to correspond with me via email. He has always been encouraging of my own writing, even while continuing to publish books of his own. Often he has been the objective reader I needed to get the most of my efforts. Valhalla: blue, as published in my book Following Hope (Xlibris, 2007), was one of those poems he helped to refine. During that process, my hard drive got a virus and I lost the poem. If not for O'Dea it would never have been published. However, he had a copy of the yet unfinished manuscript on his computer and was able to email it back to me, and thus he saved 2 1/2 years (or 3, if you count mental incubation time) worth of work from oblivion. I asked O'Dea for an interview via email to be posted here on AC (Associated Content, later Yahoo! Voices). These are the results of that interview:
S.R.: Where and when were you first exposed to poetry? How did you come to love it?
M.O.: English was my favourite subject in secondary school, I wrote a few bits and pieces back then; we had, for a while, a stunning-looking English teacher. I didn't start writing in earnest till my thirties when a friend suggested, from listening to my phraseology in speaking, that I should try writing poetry. My first attempts were published; I got cocky instantly and it was some time before others were published but I was hooked by then.
S.R.:. Which poets are the greatest influence on your work and why?
M.O.: Patrick Kavanagh is the biggest influence. He, being from rural Ireland and having the same Irish catholic upbringing, brings the same baggage with him. His territory is familiar to me. But he is a marvelous poet and caught better than any other the issues and atmosphere of twentieth century rural Ireland.
S.R.: Are there non-poetic influences, such as environment, other interests, etc.?
M.O.: Yes, so much of what I've passed through has been grist to that mill. I think the people and the countryside of Roscommon honed my sensibilities and my ear for language. Great art from the likes of Goya or Bacon has suggested the material time and time again as have musicians like Brian Eno whose soundscapes leave me free to roam like tumbleweed in a desert.
S.R.: Until recently, you were an organiser for the annual Rathmines Festival. What do you believe are the benefits and negatives of such events for poetry?
M.O.: Festivals events tend to be more casual than other arts-based events, and in festivals like the Rathmines Festival poetry readings are staged shoulder to shoulder with comedy, music, debate or whatever. As such they have the potential to reach an audience that would otherwise consider them to be too stuffy or high-brow. This is the audience poetry should be striving to reach.The biggest danger is that an hour of turgid poetry will kill them stone-dead in their seats, guaranteeing that neither they nor anyone they talk to will ever come within an ass's roar of a poetry reading again. It's vitally important that the poetry fits the audience.
S.R.: Give a brief anecdote of an experience in your life or at a literary function that has impacted you as a poet.
M.O.: There have been a number and I have referred to them during poetry readings or in the blog. An example I haven't referred to before happened when I read the following poem at a workshop.
Attitude.
Who owns the child
with the withered arm-wings,
who carries the mutation that weighs a tonne;
who, when the air is full of flight, hops
and hops and hops.
See how the children littering the yard
launch like torn pages into careless flight.
Like gulls they hog the sunlight
while a sea wrinkles with worries far below.
This is the currency.
But who owns that child;
the child with the withered arm-wings.
I chose it to get the reaction of a friend of mine whose son is confined to a wheel chair. On hearing the poem she was very upset by the image and did not see that I was condemning the objectifying of people with physical disabilities. I was taken aback, and though I didn't change the poem, I am less convinced than previously that my choice of expression is correct.
S.R.: What is it that you most hope readers will take away from your work as a whole?
M.O.: I suppose the truth is I want their admiration but I am usually conscious of wanting to spread my left-leaning political message.
S.R.: You are currently working on an anthology that will showcase the work of poets from Roscommon. Could you tell us a bit about that and what your hopes for it are?
M.O.: Since the Mayo Anthology appeared there has been a number of similar publications around the country. I'm working on a literary (all forms) anthology of writers either born in or strongly associated with the county. These include Douglas Hyde, Percy French, John McGahern, William Wilde (Oscar's dad) and Oliver Goldsmith (a disputed birthplace). I'm expecting it to be a generous beautiful book, accessible, educational and entertaining. I'm also hoping that it's publication will be a boost to Roscommon writers writing currently and to that end have recommended that it's publication be accompanied by a series of readings/workshops.
S.R.: If you could give an aspiring poet advice in only one sentence, what would it be?
M.O.: In the developing years have someone you trust, who knows poetry, to squeeze the water out of your efforts.
Read Michael O'Dea's blog.
Michael O'Dea's Website.
Buy the Roscommon Anthology.
I contacted Michael first through his website. He humored a young aspiring, but somewhat shut-in, poet by agreeing to correspond with me via email. He has always been encouraging of my own writing, even while continuing to publish books of his own. Often he has been the objective reader I needed to get the most of my efforts. Valhalla: blue, as published in my book Following Hope (Xlibris, 2007), was one of those poems he helped to refine. During that process, my hard drive got a virus and I lost the poem. If not for O'Dea it would never have been published. However, he had a copy of the yet unfinished manuscript on his computer and was able to email it back to me, and thus he saved 2 1/2 years (or 3, if you count mental incubation time) worth of work from oblivion. I asked O'Dea for an interview via email to be posted here on AC (Associated Content, later Yahoo! Voices). These are the results of that interview:
S.R.: Where and when were you first exposed to poetry? How did you come to love it?
M.O.: English was my favourite subject in secondary school, I wrote a few bits and pieces back then; we had, for a while, a stunning-looking English teacher. I didn't start writing in earnest till my thirties when a friend suggested, from listening to my phraseology in speaking, that I should try writing poetry. My first attempts were published; I got cocky instantly and it was some time before others were published but I was hooked by then.
S.R.:. Which poets are the greatest influence on your work and why?
M.O.: Patrick Kavanagh is the biggest influence. He, being from rural Ireland and having the same Irish catholic upbringing, brings the same baggage with him. His territory is familiar to me. But he is a marvelous poet and caught better than any other the issues and atmosphere of twentieth century rural Ireland.
S.R.: Are there non-poetic influences, such as environment, other interests, etc.?
M.O.: Yes, so much of what I've passed through has been grist to that mill. I think the people and the countryside of Roscommon honed my sensibilities and my ear for language. Great art from the likes of Goya or Bacon has suggested the material time and time again as have musicians like Brian Eno whose soundscapes leave me free to roam like tumbleweed in a desert.
S.R.: Until recently, you were an organiser for the annual Rathmines Festival. What do you believe are the benefits and negatives of such events for poetry?
M.O.: Festivals events tend to be more casual than other arts-based events, and in festivals like the Rathmines Festival poetry readings are staged shoulder to shoulder with comedy, music, debate or whatever. As such they have the potential to reach an audience that would otherwise consider them to be too stuffy or high-brow. This is the audience poetry should be striving to reach.The biggest danger is that an hour of turgid poetry will kill them stone-dead in their seats, guaranteeing that neither they nor anyone they talk to will ever come within an ass's roar of a poetry reading again. It's vitally important that the poetry fits the audience.
S.R.: Give a brief anecdote of an experience in your life or at a literary function that has impacted you as a poet.
M.O.: There have been a number and I have referred to them during poetry readings or in the blog. An example I haven't referred to before happened when I read the following poem at a workshop.
Attitude.
Who owns the child
with the withered arm-wings,
who carries the mutation that weighs a tonne;
who, when the air is full of flight, hops
and hops and hops.
See how the children littering the yard
launch like torn pages into careless flight.
Like gulls they hog the sunlight
while a sea wrinkles with worries far below.
This is the currency.
But who owns that child;
the child with the withered arm-wings.
I chose it to get the reaction of a friend of mine whose son is confined to a wheel chair. On hearing the poem she was very upset by the image and did not see that I was condemning the objectifying of people with physical disabilities. I was taken aback, and though I didn't change the poem, I am less convinced than previously that my choice of expression is correct.
S.R.: What is it that you most hope readers will take away from your work as a whole?
M.O.: I suppose the truth is I want their admiration but I am usually conscious of wanting to spread my left-leaning political message.
S.R.: You are currently working on an anthology that will showcase the work of poets from Roscommon. Could you tell us a bit about that and what your hopes for it are?
M.O.: Since the Mayo Anthology appeared there has been a number of similar publications around the country. I'm working on a literary (all forms) anthology of writers either born in or strongly associated with the county. These include Douglas Hyde, Percy French, John McGahern, William Wilde (Oscar's dad) and Oliver Goldsmith (a disputed birthplace). I'm expecting it to be a generous beautiful book, accessible, educational and entertaining. I'm also hoping that it's publication will be a boost to Roscommon writers writing currently and to that end have recommended that it's publication be accompanied by a series of readings/workshops.
S.R.: If you could give an aspiring poet advice in only one sentence, what would it be?
M.O.: In the developing years have someone you trust, who knows poetry, to squeeze the water out of your efforts.
Read Michael O'Dea's blog.
Michael O'Dea's Website.
Buy the Roscommon Anthology.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Welcome to the Launch of "A Muted Blue Star Muses"!
The title for this new blog comes from my poem "Valhalla: blue" found in the book "Following Hope" (Xlibris, 2007): "She grew up amid amateur paintings/And yellow walls-/A leather-clad, muted blue star."
The reason I am starting this blog is simple. I once free-lanced for Yahoo! via the site Yahoo! Voices (formerly Associated Content). As of July 31, 2014 that site is shutting down. The good news is that the rights to the majority of the articles I wrote there revert to me. But where to put them?
This blog is the solution. This blog will be home to the best of what I published on Yahoo! Voices, including many book reviews. Some of these articles will be reworked and updated; some will not. The Annual "Best Oriental Dans Videos on Youtube" articles that were among my most popular pieces on Yahoo! Voices will also be republished here. It is likely that I will not be able to post a 2014 edition due to the sudden nature of Yahoo! Voices' shut down, but I certainly plan a 2015 edition to be published here. I will continue to post new unpublished reviews and other articles here as well.
Of course, after about six months there will be adverts on this blog. I won't lie to you. But I am confident that the insightful, honest, and unique posts that will feature here will keep you coming back.
And I do hope that you will comment and let me know what you think about each and every post. I will read every comment and respond to most. I look forward to getting to know my readers in a way that I couldn't on Yahoo's platform. Thank you so much for following me over here and to the new ones who happen on to this. There would be little point in writing without you!
Other official sites to find my work are as follows:
Youtube
Facebook
Goodreads
PoetryZoo
Soundcloud
LinkedIn
These links can also be found at the top of this page.
I am sure that together we can make this blog - "A Muted Blue Star Muses" - a beautiful place to share thoughts, inspirations, and beloved books.
The reason I am starting this blog is simple. I once free-lanced for Yahoo! via the site Yahoo! Voices (formerly Associated Content). As of July 31, 2014 that site is shutting down. The good news is that the rights to the majority of the articles I wrote there revert to me. But where to put them?
This blog is the solution. This blog will be home to the best of what I published on Yahoo! Voices, including many book reviews. Some of these articles will be reworked and updated; some will not. The Annual "Best Oriental Dans Videos on Youtube" articles that were among my most popular pieces on Yahoo! Voices will also be republished here. It is likely that I will not be able to post a 2014 edition due to the sudden nature of Yahoo! Voices' shut down, but I certainly plan a 2015 edition to be published here. I will continue to post new unpublished reviews and other articles here as well.
Of course, after about six months there will be adverts on this blog. I won't lie to you. But I am confident that the insightful, honest, and unique posts that will feature here will keep you coming back.
And I do hope that you will comment and let me know what you think about each and every post. I will read every comment and respond to most. I look forward to getting to know my readers in a way that I couldn't on Yahoo's platform. Thank you so much for following me over here and to the new ones who happen on to this. There would be little point in writing without you!
Other official sites to find my work are as follows:
Youtube
Goodreads
PoetryZoo
Soundcloud
These links can also be found at the top of this page.
I am sure that together we can make this blog - "A Muted Blue Star Muses" - a beautiful place to share thoughts, inspirations, and beloved books.
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