This week brings the newest issue of The Smoking Poet, with poems by James Valvis, Christopher Barnes, Marguerite Keil Flanders, Dana Guthrie Martin, and Gail C. Flanders. Plus interviews, reviews, A Good Cause, and more. Check it out, and if you want to submit for the next issue, see the guidelines.
Also new this week, Floating Bridge Review. Last night, I attended a packed launch reading at Jack Straw. So much poetry! (I have two poems in this year’s issue.)
During the past couple of months, Jeannine Hall Gailey has written some thoughtful posts about considering what’s next. Now I find myself in that same situation. The rhythm of my days during the workweek has changed almost completely. I still get up and go to the gym, but I don’t set my alarm for 5:00 or 5:30. I ride a different bus home, work on my resume, submit job applications, free write, revise, add to my novel (I’m up to 45,000 words, finally). I still have stacks of artwork that I brought home (where to hang it?) and boxes to unpack. I still have a rocking chair in the back of my car (do you want a rocking chair?). I’ve been looking for cover art (close now!) and planning an author photo shoot for my forthcoming book, reading a friend’s novel manuscript, trying to catch up some on editing. Always wondering: What’s next?
I’m not great at transitions. Usually way to manage change is to charge through it as quickly as possible. Temporary isn’t my style (which doesn’t explain the aforementioned stacks of stuff). I’ve lived in the same house for 15 years, married for 16 years, and worked at the same company for 17 years (including two years of contract work). I show up. But I’ve received this time, and in the middle of uncertainty, I’m working to use this gift, to show up for it, if that makes any sense. And keeping my eyes and ears open for opportunities–or even ideas of opportunities. Those glimmers.
What’s next for you? How do you move through change?