Go back to a simpler time with Edward Stephens in "Home Place: Gone But Not Forgotten."
The Mentor author recalls the days of moonshine making and miles-long walks to a one-room schoolhouse 
His book opens with a recounting of his early years and family history.
As he recalls:

Now the older children had to start working harder to help with the new arrivals. Without running water or inside plumbing, this made things tough when it came to wash day. We had to draw water from the well with a bailer, or carry it from the creek. For the hot water it was boiled outside in a tub over an open fire. There was a lot of water to carry to fill the washer and tub for rinsing.

I don't think I'll be complaining about my laundry hassles so much now!
Stephens shares charming memories of nights listening to the grownups tell stories and of the fun he and his siblings had - with little to entertain themselves with except each other.
It will take folks of a certain era back and shed some light on the "old days" for younger readers.
The second part of the book is a compilation of Stephens' poetry. These pieces are autobiographical as well. Poems like "Sister," "My Baby Girl," and "Class of Sixty-Nine" speak to experiences he's had.
And it's always nice to see a  local author's dream of getting published come true. Keeps hope alive for the rest of us!

-Tricia Ambrose

Today, as we all know, is World Poetry Day.

(What, you didn't know?)

According to the link, the purpose of the day is to promote reading, writing, publishing and teaching poetry.

To celebrate, The New York Times proposed Twitter poetry. Basically, you take the 140 character limit given on Twitter to compose a poem. There have been some nice responses that I've seen. Submit your own by using the #poettweet, or check out what others have submitted here.

One of my favorites:

And if you're in the mood for some more conventional poetry, here are a few poems I like. The first was actually suggested by my friend Emily, but I really like it, too.

Dreams, by Langston Hughes

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

Fire and Ice, by Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

 And finally, a video entry--something you all should recognize.



--Danielle Capriato
DCapriato@News-Herald.com

The inspiration for this month's LitSoup comes from WritingForward.com's poetry writing exercises for groups and partners. One of the exercises is called "Clip and Swap":

Take an existing poem and jumble the words up so that they make no sense. Each writer in the group will take the jumbled words and use them to compose a brand new poem. Then, compare the poems among the members of the writing group.

This was a more difficult challenge than I anticipated. I was disappointed at the little response I had gotten — until I sat down to write my own poem and realized why.

In honor of Black History Month, I selected pieces by African-American poets, and I selected to rewrite one by E. Ethelbert Miller. (Learn more about poems and the African-American experience at PoetryFoundation.org).

Original poem:

The Things in Black Men's Closests by E. Ethelbert Miller

on the top shelf
of the closet
in the hat my father
wears on special occasions
it rests next to the large jar
he saves pennies in

his head is always bare
when i see him walking
in the street

i once sat in his bedroom
watching him search
between sweaters and suits
looking for something missing
a tie perhaps

then he stopped
and slowly walked to the closet
took the hat from the shelf

i sat on the bed
studying his back
waiting for him to turn
and tell me who died

My interpretation (not nearly as good as the original):
pennies and heaven

my father saves pennies
he finds while walking on the street
i went with him when he walked
always watching his search
slowly studying him until he rests
between his searching he stopped and sat
to tell me stories from way back
then he took me looking with him

the large jar of copper sat next to me
on the floor in the closet in the bedroom
waiting to turn in to something he wears
like suits and sweaters or something for the special occasions
or perhaps a hat for on top of his head when it is bare
i see the shelf in the closet
with a hat and a tie
and the shelf over the bed
with memories of those who died
whom i am missing

-- Cheryl Sadler | CSadler@News-Herald.com | @nhcheryl

---

This post is part of a LitSoup, a new regular monthly feature on The Book Club compiled of contributions from the newsroom. Send an e-mail or tweet with your suggestions for future LitSoup topics.

Once upon a time, a former poet laureate said something either very stupid or very brave.

Billy Collins said, via The Wall Street Journal:

“Lyrics just don’t hold up without the music,” Collins said, adding that when his students argue for the literary merit of song lyrics, “I assure them that Jim Morrison is not a poet in any sense of the word.”

If we’re being literal, this is balderdash. Lyrics fit the definition of a poem — an arrangement of words, written or spoken, traditionally a rhythmical compositions, sometimes rhymed, expressing experiences, ideas or emotions in a style more concentrated, imaginative and powerful than that of ordinary speech or prose. (Definition comes from Webster’s. A secondary definition says a poem is “anything suggesting a poem in its effect.” Which means, we know it when we see it.)

If Collins is saying that modern poets are trying to do something different than modern lyricists, then he may be correct. (But I think he’s being arrogant and making lazy generalizations.)

I’ve already said where I stand on the poetry-lyrics grouping. Let’s link to some smarter people.

Jenny Hendrix of The New Yorker says:

Poetry and music have a long history together, from Greek rhapsodes  to medieval troubadours. The first poems may well have been lyrics themselves. And yes, to some extent, the more we define what is poetry and what it isn’t, the more of an uncommon, niche experience it becomes.

Kristen Hoggatt of The Smart Set says:

Many song writers would argue that they are writing poetry when they write a song, while many poets are equally adamant that they are doing no such thing. Perhaps this is because songs are so popular. Lyricists simply make too much money, and attain too much validation by hearing their life’s work as someone’s mobile ringtone. Poets have to write for years, getting published by small presses that year after year become slightly less small, teach as an adjunct, teach as a faculty member, teach as a faculty member with tenure, and once they’re finally published by Poetry Magazine or The New Yorker, they’re ready to retire. Lauren Hill (sic) considers herself a poet. Eminem considers himself a poet. Both these figures have a large fan base that would confirm their poet status, but to many people who consider themselves “real” poets, these figures are just too cool, too popular to exist in the world as a bestselling musical artist and a struggling lover of words.

Slight tangent, Collins’s comment also indirectly lead me to this Venn diagram.

While I don’t agree with all of the author’s categorizations — read “We Real Cool” and tell me Gwendolyn Brooks ain’t hip-hop — I think presenting anything as a Venn diagram makes it better.

1. Andrew Wylie and Random House have settled their e-book tiffle.

For background on the smackdown, click here and here.

The New York Times is promoting this as a win for Random House. They get the e-book rights to 13 popular backlist titles. However, “win” is a strong word, seeing as they will be paying a royalty rate that can reach as high as 40 percent. (The industry norm is 25 percent.)

So, yes, they get their e-books and Wylie’s Odyssey Editions lost more than half of its titles. But Wylie also negotiated a significantly higher royalty rate than the norm.

That doesn’t sound like a win. That sounds like compromise. (Not that there is anything wrong with compromise.)

Publishing houses that own the print rights to other Odyssey Editions titles, which still include novels by Evelyn Waugh and Saul Bellow, have remained tight-lipped.

2. Apparently, Roald Dahl was a bad student.

How bad? One teacher called him “indolent” and “illiterate.” Another had this to say: “A persistent muddler. Vocabulary negligible, sentences malconstructed. He reminds me of a camel.”

A camel? What does that even mean? Is the teacher saying that camels are bad writers? I suppose that’s true. I mean, I’ve never read anything worthwhile from any ungulate, so why single out camels?

(While stinging, this is not the best “camel” diss of all time.)

This information comes from Penguin’s The Missing Golden Ticket and Other Splendiferous Secrets, which also will include an alternate ending to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

3. Richard Allen of We Who Are About to Die is writing poetry in the style and cadence of Rick Ross.

(If you don’t know who Rick Ross is, he’s a mediocre rapper who succeeds because of his accomplices.)

Rick Ross’s original stanzas:
I feel like Big Meech.
Larry Hoover.
Whippin’ work.
Hallelujah.

One of Allen’s takes:
I feel like Harry Crews.
Barry Hannah.
I want to be your dog.
Svanasana.

My own try:
I feel like Descartes.
Francis Bacon.
Think Deeper.
As-Salamu Alaykum.

-Jason Lea
JLea@News-Herald.com

My grandmother’s recommendations — call more often; don’t swear so much; ditch the redhead and marry a nice, Italian girl.

Yes, it’s the return of the Linklord, The Duke of Diversion, The Tangentmaster.

Apparently, the blog transformed into a Sweet Valley High fan site when I disappeared. Permit me to reintroduce a sense of equity by writing about everything but Sweet Valley High.

1. Yesterday was Bad Poetry Day. Celebrate belatedly with the Frisky’s worst adolescent poetry.

On example from a poem entitled “Boy in a Band:”

Never thought a guitar
Could make you look cuter than you are
Guess this proves how wrong I can be
When it comes to you
Falling for you
All that you do
Boy in a Band.

This might be bad poetry, but at least it’s honest.

2. Novelist Rick Moody says the recession has impacted how writers are writing.

I think the economy is changing the way people are writing and that writers are more desperate then at any time since I’ve been watching what’s been happening closely. And I worked in publishing in the last big recession in the early 90’s, so I saw some of it at that time. I think people are just really scared that they’re not going to get published at all, and as a result, they’re trying to shoehorn themselves into pretty rigidly formatted kinds of things ...

My former students who are out there now trying to get published are having trouble on those lines. It’s the crazy great ones, the kind of mad ones who are really struggling to find people to publish them. And not because the projects don’t have merit, but just because everybody’s looking at Bookscan and they want certain numbers of units to ship and so on. That is going to affect people going forward, not only because we miss out but because when we miss out we then forget that the opportunity exists for that kind of experimental work.

Moody’s a good writer. I like him. But this is all seems pretty obvious.

Writers changing their style so they can get published? Gasp.

Art being impacted by a recession? Alack.

Here’s a list of other fields impacted by hard times: all of them.

3. Barnes & Noble is for sale. The Wall Street Journal details how it fell so far so fast.

The simple explanation for Barnes & Noble’s decline is the Internet, which spawned Amazon.com, e-readers and digital books. But that didn’t have to be the end for B&N, which had a dominant market position and should have out-Amazoned Amazon, leveraging its brand and innovating when it began marketing and selling books online.

4. Betty White has signed a two-book deal with Putnam. You know you care.

5. Frank Kermode, a critic so influential he was knighted, has died at the age of 90.

6. Want to know what tyromancy is? Take the Guardian’s weird-word quiz.

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

Odds and Book Ends features activities and events in the area related to libraries, books and authors. Send your events to Community@News-Herald.com or submit it at www.News-Herald.com/Calendar, and check back to The Book Club every week for upcoming events and activities at your local library.


Reel Talk-Book and movie discussion group meets at 2:45 p.m. the second Monday of every month in Morley Library meeting Room B, 184 Phelps St., Painesville. Books and DVDs are available at the check-out desk on the main floor. Details: www.morleylibrary.org


Mentor Public Library will have an end-of-summer party at the Read House next to the Main Library, 8215 Mentor Ave., Mentor at 6 p.m. Aug. 10. Bring the family and celebrate the end of summer. There will be games and three inflatables to explore. For details call 440-255-8811.


The Art of Poem-Making will be from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m. Aug. 11 at The Gathering Place East, 23300 Commerce Park, Beachwood. Poet John Fox will conduct a poetic medicine workshop that teaches participants to use poetry as a tool for expression. Advance registration is required. The event is free. For details, call The Gathering Place at 216-595-9546 or visit www.touchedbycancer.org.


Friends of the Wickliffe Public Library will host the annual book sale Aug. 12-14 in the meeting room of the library, 1713 Lincoln Road, Wickliffe. The sale hours are 3 to 7 p.m. Thursday for members only, 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Friday and 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Saturday. Saturday will be the day for the bag sale. Good bargains will be offered in books, videos, CDs, children’s books, paperbacks and more. Donations of any of the above materials that are in good condition will be accepted for the sale. For details call 440-944-6010.


Chef Sherry K. Letzelter, a popular local expert chef, is returning to the Beachwood Library to help children create several delicious treats following the theme of Melina Long’s book, “How I Became a Pirate.” Children entering second through fifth grades are invited to this progra,m which will begin at 4 p.m. Aug. 14. Registration is required, and parents must sign the release for their children to participate. Register by phone at 216-831-6868 or online at cuyahogalibrary.org.


The Burton Public Library will host a book sale from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Aug. 14 in the library basement. Enter the sale through the white door located at the back of the building. Burton Public Library is located opposite the Burton Park.


Join Steve Haas on Aug. 30 at Panera Bread, 9587 Mentor Ave., Mentor, at 6:30 p.m. for the “Twenty Something Readers.” This month’s selection will be "Manhunt: the twelve-day chase for Lincoln's killer" by James L. Swanson. Light refreshments will be provided. Stop by the library to get your copy of the book. For more information, call Haas at 440-255-8811. Details: www.mentorpl.org.


--Cheryl Sadler
CSadler@News-Herald.com

Elisa Gabbert of The French Exit asks a much better question than, “Is poetry dead?”

She asks, “Is poetry boring?”

Her answer:
“Is poetry boring? Yes, of course it is. Life is boring. Writing of all kinds (novels, movie reviews, the news) is boring, museums are boring, TV and movies and the Internet are mostly boring, exercise is boring, work is boring, school is boring, even sex can be boring. Most of modern life is an elaborate exercise in killing time, since there is little doubt we’ll all live into our nineties, if not eternally. Anything novel is a temporary cure for boredom (a new hobby, being pregnant for the first time, drugs) but things become boring again eventually (even money).”

Gabbert’s being glib, but she is also raising a worthwhile point.

First, let’s clarify the obvious. Not all poetry is boring. Gabbert is a poet. No one needs to tell her this.

But poetry can seem boring, especially when you’re inundated with mediocre examples. If somebody told me that they thought music was boring, I’d laugh them off. If somebody told me that they thought reading was boring, I’d tell them they were reading the wrong stuff.

But if somebody called poetry boring, I might let their point slide.

I’ll admit that this says something about me. I haven’t worked hard to find new poets that excite me (unless you count Skyzoo.) Poetry is no more boring than any other form of entertainment. If you’re only aware of the mediocre examples; then, yes, you’ll think it’s boring.

But the academia in poetry have also (inadvertently) cultivated this perception of stuffiness.

Poets are aware of this perception. That’s why Gabbert writes a post titled Is Poetry Boring? That’s why Clay Banes had a blog called POETRY IS SO BORING. That’s why Amiri Baraka wrote an essay headlined Why Most Poetry is Boring, Again (page eight of the PDF.)

Baraka writes, “One wonders, is it still called “high art?” Now too high to deal with the angst and pain and ignorance of the real world – though certainly an obtuse registry of it. Content with the masturbatory inoffensiveness of an actual loyal opposition, inferred loudly as “deep” intellectualism. Childish feints at surrealism, useless abstraction, jokey pop art, inside jokes for the uncognoscenti, all pass as, wow, poetry!”

Baraka’s not expressing anything new here either. Joseph Joubert already said, “How many people make themselves abstract to appear profound? The great part of abstract terms are shadows that hide a vacuum.”

So how does poetry stop being boring? How does anything stop being boring? It needs to ditch the abstraction and navel-gazing and say something worthwhile. In the words of Pharcyde (last hip-hop reference today), they need to kick something that means something.

Until poets and any other artists do, they will remain boring.

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

P.S. Gabbert later clarifies in her comments that “The subtext of this post is that I think there’s value in boredom. Running is a lot more boring than watching TV, which is why I think a lot more when I’m running than when I’m watching TV. The only escape from boredom is your own thoughts.”

She is taking a different tact than me. She is finding value in the boredom, which is admirable. Sadly, I can't do that. Boredom bores me.

Odds and Book Ends features activities and events in the area related to libraries, books and authors. Send your events to Community@News-Herald.com, and check back to The Book Club every week for upcoming events and activities at your local library.


Author John Gorman will visit the Mentor Main Library to speak about his memoir “The Buzzard: Inside the Glory Days of WMMS and Cleveland Rock Radio” at 7 p.m. July 20.
Attendees will be able to hear the behind-the-scenes stories of how Gorman turned a struggling station into the nation’s top broadcaster during FM’s glory days, 1973 to 1986.
Discounted books will be available for purchase and signing after the talk. Register online at www.mentorpl.org or call the library at 440-255-8811.


The Friends of the Mentor Public Library is inviting the public to explore the highlights of the Cleveland Museum of Art and tour the newly renovated Ancient, Egyptian, Early Christian, Medieval and African galleries.
The bus and museum tour July 22 will accommodate 25 participants. Reservations will be taken at the library reference desk. Payment of $10 per person is required at the time of reservation. The bus will leave promptly at noon from the library parking lot and will return at 5 p.m. Lunch is not included, but the museum offers cafeteria refreshments. For more information, call Technical Services Manager Barbara Hauer at 440-255-8811, ext. 210, or e-mail barbara.hauer@mentorpl.org.


“Three Women in the Woods: Words and Images,” a touring exhibit of nature photography and framed, poster-sized poetry, will be displayed July 23 through Aug. 27 at The Holden Arboretum, 9500 Sperry Road in Kirtland.
The artists opening reception will take place from 4 to 7 p.m. July 23 in the visitor center. There is no admission charge for visitors attending the reception. Regular Arboretum admission will be charged for the duration of the exhibit: $6 for ages 13 and older; $3 for ages 6 through 12.
The exhibit features images taken by Akron resident Jane Rogers, photographer, educator and wildflower expert. Rogers has participated in many plant rescues that have saved native wildflowers from soon-to-be developed construction sites. The plants and their descendents have found new homes in public parks, arboretums and other gardens across Ohio.
Sagamore Hills Township resident Jill Sell is a nature poet and journalist whose writing has appeared in many local, regional and national publications. Sell was named 2009 Best Freelance Writer in Ohio by the Press Club of Cleveland. She was also recognized last year by the Society for Professional Journalists for her environmental poetry.
For more information, call Holden Arboretum at 440-946-4400 or Jill Sell at 330-467-3533 or send an e-mail to jillsell@en.com.


Mentor Public Library will host a Star Wars Party for all ages at the main library, 8215 Mentor Ave., Mentor, noon to 2 p.m. July 24. Some Star Wars characters will come by to visit and help out with the many activities planned for the family. Families will have the opportunity to become a Jedi Knight by completing four tasks, including doing an obstacle course, making a light saber and participating in a light saber training course. The Star Wars characters will judge a Wookie Howling Contest for children ages 7 and younger, 8 to 12 years and ages 13 and older.
For details call 440-255-8811.


The Perry Public Library is planning a summer reading celebration 1 to 3 p.m. July 24.
Flower Clown will be on hand to make amazing balloon sculptures for children and Suz-E-QT will be creating wearable art with her face painting. Those interested can visit with service dogs, play games, make crafts, enter the 50/50 raffle, and more. This event is open to everyone and no registration is needed. Call the library at 440-259-3300 for more information.


Cuyahoga County’s Summer Reading Program “Books Ahoy!” will continue through Aug. 7. Children and family members of all ages may sign up for this program. There will be a drawing at the end of the program for grand prizes, which include a Great Lakes Science Center family membership, a Lake Erie Monsters suite night, a Cleveland Indians batting practice experience, one year of free kid's meals at Eat’n Park, a birthday party package at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum, and more. For details, call 216-831-6868.


--Cheryl Sadler
CSadler@News-Herald.com

The Library of Congress appointed W.S. Merwin the new poet laureate. I voted for Nas.

Say Queensbridge! It’s the melange.

Short biography of Merwin: He won the National Book Award and a pair of Pulitzers for poetry, the most recent of which was in 2009.

Merwin was born in New York City in 1927 but moved to Hawaii in 1976 to study Zen Buddhism. (That will be my excuse to move to a tropical clime, also.) Now, he lives on a former pineapple plantation on Maui.

He gave the best writing advice ever in his poem, “Berryman:”

you die without knowing
whether anything you wrote was any good
if you have to be sure don’t write

If you want a longer biography or more poems from Merwin, click the link.

Want to watch a free Shakespeare performance? Of course, you want do. You’re reading a book blog.

The Cleveland Shakespeare Festival is offering free performances of Titus Andronicus and The Merry Wives of Windsor Saturday and Sunday, respectively, at James A. Garfield’s home, Lawnfield, in Mentor. The performances start at 6 p.m.

If you can’t make the performances this weekend, don’t fret. The CSF will be performing throughout the Cleveland area all summer.

Just so you know, Titus Andronicus is the wrong play to bring children to. I’m serious. One character gets raped. Then, the rapists cut off her hands and tongue, so she can’t tell anyone.

Seriously, let the kids watch fireworks, instead.

Speaking of Shakespeare, the blog Everyday Shakespeare hypothesizes how some of the bard’s characters would explain childbirth to their children.

One more thing, Christopher Hitchens has cancer of the esophagus.

In 2008. Hitchens released God is Not Great, which criticized many major religions. God has since denied that this was a retaliatory strike.

In all seriousness, we hope Hitchens gets better. Hell may be other people, but it is also esophageal cancer.

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

Finally, this is not about books, but it’s about basketball and Cleveland. Close enough for me.

Today, I want to revisit some topics.

First, people are still asking if poetry matters. (Yeah, we've done this before.)

Gregory Cowles of The New York Times doesn’t offer any new thoughts — (no, poetry no longer matters; no, it is not the audience’s fault; poetry has become insular and will not matter again until it speaks to the public) — but he answers in such a way as not to make my teeth grate, which is an accomplishment.

Second, remember Michelle Kerns’s book review cliché bingo? Well, Flavorwire created a version for music reviews.

Third, Paul Edwards wrote a book titled How to Rap. I reviewed it.

Now, Edwards has posted an uncut interview with Kool G Rap that he did as research for the book.

I enjoy reading about artists’ creative processes. It doesn’t matter if that artist is G Rap or Victor Hugo.

Fourth, The New Yorker has published the best explanation I’ve seen on the state of the publishing industry thus far. One of the most insightful thoughts comes from Russ Grandinetti, the vice-president in charge of Kindle Content. From The New Yorker:

"In Grandinetti’s view, book publishers—like executives in other media—are making the same mistake the railroad companies made more than a century ago: thinking they were in the train business rather than the transportation business. To thrive, he believes, publishers have to reimagine the book as multimedia entertainment."

But here’s the most telling fact:

"In reality the profits earned by the relatively small percentage of authors whose books make money essentially go to subsidizing less commercially successful writers. The system is inefficient, but it supports a class of professional writers, which might not otherwise exist."

In other words, Dan Brown, Stephenie Meyer and J.K. Rowling are probably funding some of your favorite, current authors. We should be grateful.

Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

P.S. Thank you, Seth, for The New Yorker link. Lebron still isn't going to the Knicks.

I was less than my prolific self last week.

I would have written more, but it’s poor form to blog from someone’s murder trial.

But I’m back and so is Michelle Kerns. If you don’t remember Kerns, she is the woman analyzing literary critics’ dependence upon clichés.

Her analysis (and accompanying graphs) are many positive things — fascinating, insightful and accessible. Unfortunately, those words are clichés, so I’ll just post a link instead of trying to describe it.

Of the publications she is following, Entertainment Weekly packs the highest percentage of clichés into their critiques. (Smart money bets EW remain the frontrunner through the entirety of Kerns’s experiment.) They averaged 1.1 cliché per 100 words. Time Out New York and Publishers Weekly trailed at .93 and .92 Kerns, respectively.

Yes, “Kerns” are the metric measurement for clichés per 100 words in a book review.

Kerns — the writer, not the unit of measurement — specifically picks on alliterations in her dissection of April’s reviews. Some of the alliterations, like “parboiled profundities,” I found clever. Some are admittedly pretentious, for example, “craziness crazily” and “This promising premise begins on promising premises.”

Elsewhere, Elisa Bassist asks, Have I Earned these Clichés? She writes about why she writes and comes up with, “It’s the closest definition I have of living.” Yes, she notes that her conclusion is a cliché. That’s why she gives her essay that title.

It’s much better than I’m making it sound, though I disagree with some of Bassist’s points. She describes writing as a “social act.” I would argue that it’s the opposite. Reading might be a social act; but writing, almost always, is done alone and for your own sake. If someone else reads a personal meaning into your own writing — wonderful! — but writing is a selfish process. It’s about you, even when it isn’t. (And, now, I have added my cliché to the stack.)

Bassist seems to acknowledge this when she quotes Jim Harrison.

“A writer [is] a small god who has forty acres as a birthright on which to reinvent the world.”

Two final notes — first, Elisa Gabbert has fun with Venn diagrams.

She says that most people separate “women poets” from “poets.” How can anyone divide the two? Whether right or wrong, I identify femininity with poetry. Most of the women I know are poets. Many just don’t bother to write it down.

Lastly, we finally have an e-reader that I would consider buying. The Kobo reader, from Borders, will cost $149 and come stocked with 100 classics, according to the Associated Post. That’s $1.50 per classic. Sure, I probably have most of these unidentified classics on my bookshelf already. (Whether I’ve read them or not is a different issue.) But it still sells for $100 less than competing e-readers.

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

Vivienne Parry rediagnoses the “mad” women of literature on BBC News.

She suggests the Woman in White may have had a learning disorder and Madame Bovary wasn’t crazy, just a fantasist who would have fit in on reality television.

Parry talks about how “insane” women in the Victorian Era were often institutionalized for female sexuality.

Coincidentally, I’ve borrowed two books from Tricia in the last year. Both of which told the stories of women unfairly put in asylums because of their sexuality. (Interpret that how you want — not just that Tricia keeps reading books about the subject, but also that I keep borrowing them.)

On to the next one, Penguin Group Australia gave a backhanded apology for printing a cookbook with a recipe that called for “salt and freshly ground black people.” In case you were wondering, they meant “pepper.”

Bob Sessions, its head of publishing, said, “In one particular recipe [a] misprint occurs which obviously came from a spell checker. When it comes to the proofreader, of course they should have picked it up, but proofreading a cookbook is an extremely difficult task. I find that quite forgivable.

“We’ve said to bookstores that if anyone is small minded enough to complain about this very ... silly mistake then we will happily replace [the book] for them.”

Let me get this straight. Penguin published a book with an unintentionally (I hope) racist typo, quickly forgave its proofreaders, and called anyone unhappy with your faulty product “small minded.”

This would be like if I rear ended Mr. Sessions’s car, forgave myself for texting while driving and called him a “jerkface” when he asked for my insurance info.

Finally, I love Everyday Shakespeare. Where else can I get sonnet battles about poorly parked cars?

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

My family didn’t celebrate Easter because my mom said it had its origins in a pagan fertility ritual. (Why do you think people dye eggs?)

Ishtar may have flopped in the Lea household, but it’s still going to be a Good Friday. Inhale the melange.

Craig Teicher addresses the relevancy of poetry from the perspective of critic.

But in almost any conversation on the topic of poetry reviews, one question comes up: what’s the point? This question isn’t always asked with the flippant air that actually means “who cares?” Often, people really want to know: what is accomplished by poetry reviews? Do they help sell books? Do they keep the art form in line? Do they spur writers into creating better poetry or kick bad writers out of the halls of Parnassus? Do poetry reviews help readers?

There is talk of keeping poetry “vital” and “alive,” but the article does not eulogize the art form or devolve into cliché.

In what can only be considered the greatest news of all time, Margaret Atwood is on Twitter. Even better, she’s blogging about being on Twitter.

She says having a Twitter feed is like having “33,000 precocious grandchildren.”

They really shone when, during the Olympics, I said that “Own the podium” was too brash to be Canadian, and suggested “A podium might be nice.” Their own variations poured onto a feed tagged #cpodium: “A podium! For me?” “Rent the podium, see if we like it.” “Mind if I squeeze by you to get onto that podium?”

My first thought reading her blog was, “Margaret Atwood would be the coolest grandma ever.” But I didn’t want to say that in fear it would be perceived as sexist or ageist. Then, Atwood called us precocious grandchildren and removed any possible awkwardness... just like a cool grandma.

(Atwood tweets. Alice Walker blogs. It is a wonderful time to love the typed word.)

Jan Freeman talks about banned words in newswriting and the repetition inherent in the business.

The call for “fresh language” is another cliché that demands a closer look. Sometimes repetition and formulaic language serve a speaker’s purpose better than novelty; sometimes the story really is the same — only the names have changed — and too much striving for originality may annoy and distract.

Finally, because it can’t be all good news, I offer two more reasons one might hate Amazon.

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

I’m practicing my redactive poetry:

Friday Welcome Melange

My talented coworkers have offered their own examples of redactive poetry today. The first comes from my nemesis and City Editor John Bertosa who used the Gettysburg Address to create a gothic riff on Jonathan Swift.

A new proposal –
We ground our poor
To add here for the living so nobly

It is the great task we take
That cause full of devotion, highly.
These shall not have died in vain.

Keeping with the theme of Illinois politicians, education reporter Sandra Klepach used Barack Obama’s victory speech. I like how she maintains the tone and adds a subtle twist.

Who doubts that America is the dream
Of our founders?
Answer this, nation. Thank the women
Young and old, rich and poor
We led cynical and fearful and doubtful
Hands of history
Working women, tonight we rode home
We will get there
This can change more

Copy editor Cheryl Sadler went the extra mile and turned my previous blog post into a haiku.

The whipping, I loved.
Dinosaur. Sculpting. Chisel.
Glenn Beck adventure.

Editorial Page Editor Michael C. Butz reworked Wilco’s “I Am Trying to Break your Heart.”

An American assassin
hiding out in the big city
Let’s forget about the cross-eyed strangers
Stop smiling

I want to glide, dreaming
Baby, hold on tight
I’ve been drinking

I don’t believe I said hello
I’d always thought you’d love me
What was I thinking

I am trying to break your heart
Drinking down the avenue
I let go of
the man who loves you

Meanwhile, I tried to turn Finnegan’s Wake into a carefree sex romp:

Eve brings us by a short sea on this side the scraggy isthmus
all the time, bland old isaac had to be seen
What clashes here of wills
What chance, What true feeling
(O my shining stars and body!)
you will rise, you must
none so soon, toofar
he swiftly stook it out again
that ought to show you what a chap he was
Annie with goodly grasp and overalls
to rise in undress – eyeful, with a burning bush
the first was he to bare arms and His crest of huroldry, horrid, horned.
His archers strung, handling his hoe.
you’re going to be fined again!
this municipal sin business

Brandon Baker reworked The Roots' “The Good, the Bad and the Desolate” from the High School High Soundtrack. (I now have just cause to add an Okayplayer tag to the blog.)

Dedicated to the cats that vocalize
Try to rise
Speaking through the mic, wise, realize
Respond when I make use with Hip-Hop that’s authentic
I represent revolutionary masters of ceremonies
Enslaved by the soundwaves, skills amaze
Insight, analytic, ‘cause I live it: Lyricism
Keep your styles, dissect ‘em
Class is in session, I’ll have all you guessin
Begin with the pen, rhyme radioactive waves on Fridays
Your style’s older, you ain’t makin’ a quota
A rap you might not see again

Cassandra Shofar has repurposed a Thomas Merton quote about the cosmic dance.

When we alone, chance
We see migrating birds
Autumn descending
A grove of junipers
Rest

When we see, a moment
Children
We know love
Our own hearts
The poet

When we hear, old land
A quiet pond
A solitary splash
Such times
Awakening

The turning, inside
Values the newness
The emptiness
The purity
Vision

Themselves, evident
All these
A glimpse
The cosmic
Dance

Finally, Tricia Ambrose turned to her favorite children’s book, Love You Forever by Robert Munsch, for inspiration.

Mother,

back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Baby,
quiet, crawled, sang

Boy,
strange friends, strange clothes, strange music.

Mother,
back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Son, mother, song

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

P.S. Please forgive the overwhelming use of italics in this post. I wanted to differentiate between poems and my interruptions.

A few links today, none of them are related:

It’s old news by now, but Sid Fleischman died March 17 at the age of 90.

I cannot write a better eulogy than those that have already been written. I will only add this. The Whipping Boy was the third book I ever loved.

The first was a dinosaur dictionary; the second was Roald Dahl’s BFG. I did not have a fourth until high school.

On a completely unrelated subject, behold the magic of redactive poetry. It’s like sculpting for poets. They take another person’s writing and chisel away the unwanted words until they are left with a poem.

My favorite example is someone who used Glenn Beck as their source material.

Also unrelated — The New Yorker expounds upon the psychology of Choose Your Own Adventure stories. (I remember the CYOA books as the only stories where the author was allowed to kill the reader repeatedly and in gruesome fashion.)

Finally, I offer René Magritte’s not-a-pipe as a Magic card. (That makes two Magic card references this week, which is enough.)

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

What’s the most appropriate, most Jasonesque way to end a string of poetry posts?

How about incorporating Jason favorites Sherman Alexie and FreeDarko?

Alexie, in addition to being an award-winning author, is a passionate basketball fan. He was so incensed that Allen Iverson was voted to start in the All-Star game that he wrote a poem for ESPN.

Then, Bethlehem Shoals of FreeDarko wrote a poem in defense of AI.

Alexie ended the slam battle by smashing on Monta Ellis, Vince Carter and Tracey McGrady and boosting Cavelier Anderson Varejao. (Tell those French authors that this is how you conduct a beef.)

I have not linked to Shoals’ poem as he is a sucker MC.

Next, much ado has been made out of Borders throwing away their unsold books. To explain, bookstores need only return the cover to receive a refund from the publisher for their overstock. (Note: this is why you occasionally see books without covers at secondhand sales. Don’t buy them. They’re essentially stolen property.) After mailing back the cover, they toss the rest of the book.

Well, that didn’t sit well with some people. They threatened boycotts — stuff like that. As a result, Borders announced they would be donating and recycling their overstock now.

I think the whole situation is pretty silly. Yes, Borders should recycle instead of simply trashing leftover books; but why are they being asked to give away products that they are trying to sell?

Do people picket restaurants and tell them to donate their leftover food at the end of a night?

The people who protest Borders are missing what I consider a key fact. It’s not difficult to get a book.

Intellectually starved children are not suffering because they can’t find Poe or Dickinson on bookshelves, as this Huffington Post writer implies. They can go to a library — almost any library. If it’s not in stock, they can order it.

No, children are intellectually starved because they do not have the desire to read. It doesn’t matter who donates how many books to what. If kids don’t want to read, they won’t. Borders’ announcement won’t change that.

Finally, Tricia, I’ll play your game. In fact, if you can guess my book without cheating (honor system), I’ll buy you a Frosty.

Harut.
Sleepers of the Cave.
Iblis.
Prophet.
Night journey.

Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

We’re talking about poetry again.

Not because I know poetry, but because people who do know poetry keep saying interesting things.

Elisa Gabbert, of The French Exit, calls out publications that publish mediocre poetry from recognizable poets.

Here’s what I’d like to see more of in submissions: IDEAS. Why don’t poems have more ideas? So many poems I read are essentially just descriptions. So you went outside. It was beautiful. Or not. I don’t care how creatively you describe it, if it didn’t trigger any thoughts beyond “Hells yeah I am going to describe this,” it’s not a poem. It’s just showing off to yourself, or as Matt Rass used to say, “masturbating to language.”

Love it. Every last word of it. In fact, it’s not just poets who get caught “masturbating to language.” How much of Moby Dick is Herman Melville describing the scenery? The same could be said of James Fenimore Cooper and Nathaniel Hawthorne. An entire generation of American authors decided “Hells yeah I am going to describe this.” Yes, they had some ideas ensconced between the chapter-long descriptions, but not enough to justify their exhaustive exposition.

And, despite my love for Wu-Tang Clan, I have to acknowledge that about 65 percent of their discography is “masturbating to language.”

On an unrelated (or, at most, barely related) note, I want to thank Patrick Gillespie of Poemshape for responding to my post. He made a point during his reply that is worth revisiting.

He said: A poor poet, but brilliant marketer, will probably be far more successful than the brilliant poet (we see it all the time). However, marketing also goes where the money is. If a publisher sees money in a writer, they will market him or her.

Then, I said: This is true, but it also leads us to a circular argument. Marketing tends to follow money and money follows marketing. Yes, poetry would be more lucrative if it were better marketed; and publishers would market it better if it appeared more lucrative. A few extraordinary types — Gillespie listed Shel Silverstein and Dr. Seuss — might slide through, but that’s about it. But even Silverstein and Seuss don’t apply to this discussion because neither of them are current poets.

Finally, Bloomsbury has refused to learn its lesson. They, once again put the image of a white woman on the cover of a book whose heroine is described as having brown skin. This would have been a post by itself had Bloomsbury not done the exact same thing last year.

Bloomsbury has already apologized and said it will issue the book with a new cover — just like they did before.

If Bloomsbury does this again, I’ll be convinced that it is for the free publicity.

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

I’m sick of people declaring art forms dead.

Fiction is dead. The short story is dead. Three yards and a cloud of dust is dead. Crunk is dead.

Apparently, poetry died in 2003. Or it didn’t. Or maybe it’s alive but nobody cares.

Patrick Gillespie, the man behind Poemshape, skirts the argument of poetry’s demise by suggesting we pull the plug.

If poets and artists can’t make a living by writing poetry or producing art, then maybe they shouldn’t be writing poetry.
Let the fittest survive.
And, yes, I hold myself to that standard. I live it everyday.
Let Poetry Die
So that it can be reborn.
Make poets work for their bread and butter by being poets.
As it is, the state of poetry is dispiriting. The public is right to ignore it.

Gillespie argues that well-intentioned benefactors like Ruth Lilly hurt the art form by allowing poets to write material that will only be appreciated by other poets.

Gillespie makes some good points. One, written poetry no longer grabs our attention. I asked the newsroom to name a living American poet. A room full of people who write for a living could only come up with Maya Angelou.

Two, poetry is mostly the realm of academics and dilettantes. You either write for yourself or for your sponsor. There are no more populists.

But I have two basic problems with Gillespie’s argument.

First, Gillespie ignores lyrics. All lyrics are poetry. The only question is are they good or bad poetry. (I had one coworker who arrived after I had polled the newsroom. When I asked him to name a living American poet, he said Chuck D. He instantly became my favorite coworker.)

Saying poetry is dead is like calling dinosaurs extinct and ignoring the birds. You hear poetry almost every day, even if it’s only during commercials or on the drive to work.

Second, Gillespie assumes high-quality work will automatically entice the populace. That ignores everything we know about marketing. A brilliant poet will still have a hellacious time entering public awareness. Gillespie says he knows Wayne Gretzky and Tiger Woods even though he doesn’t care about hockey or golf, respectively. Well, hockey and golf are much better promoted than poetry. There’s no Poetry Channel. Def Poetry Jam was last time I saw poetry on a channel that wasn’t PBS.

(I’d watch poetry playoffs. Get Harold Bloom to provide commentary. “Did you hear that imagery? Scintillating!”)

Until poets are willing to market their product beyond their core audience, it will continue to be an ignored art form. And, realistically, Ruth Lilly left the Poetry Magazine enough money for them to promote the entire art form and not just a few critically acclaimed, publicly ignored poets.

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

P.S. There are bajillion blogs. None of them are vital. This one comes close.

I intended to write a review of the year, but that won’t be necessary.

Apparently, Richard Curtis already did it with a rhyme scheme.

A sample:
Two thousand nine—the year that we
Were taught the benefits of “free.”

A book is now considered bought
When it is sold to you for naught.

This paradox makes perfect sense
Unless you hope for recompense.

We learned that zero is a price.
If you’re the buyer? Really nice!

If you’re the seller? Lots of luck.
With gratis—hard to make a buck!

(For the entire poem, click the orange.)

Tricia and I are on vacation the rest of this week, so I wouldn’t expect any posting until the new year. If you’re bored while waiting for the new year, you can re-read some of our Most Adequate Hits.

Tricia and I jointly review Rebecca and Twilight. (The next book we review will not feature a neurotic, female narrator.)

I live-blogged reading Finnegan’s Wake. (Re-live my pain.)

The short-lived Poetry Thursday produced one worthwhile post when I forced everyone in the newsroom to write haiku. (Sandra Klepach had the best one.)

Tricia read a Harlequin romance and argued all reading was good reading. (This would be an ongoing argument between she and I this year.)

I contended that Romeo and Juliet was not a love story.

Tricia discussed her distaste for Ernest Hemingway, which birthed the Hemingway challenge.

And, finally, I taught ya’ll how to lie.

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

P.S. Behold the power of "Meep!"