I spent some hours yesterday writing an artistic biography of my father, who was a painter. I found myself writing that I learned about art standing near his easel and watching him paint. It was the silent choreography of creativity. He would stand back, leaning forward, hip thrust out, as he considered his next move, like a chess player. Then he’d move decisively forward, closing in on the canvas, brush scumbling furiously in a small…
I’m very happy that my poem “Kingdom” appearing in the current issue of the fascinating zine Goblin Fruit. They publish poetry “of the fantastical, poetry that treats mythic, surreal, fantasy and folkloric themes, or approaches other themes in a fantastical way.” Fun to be part of this imaginative venture! Visit https://racheldacus.net for more information and writing by Rachel Dacus.
Election Madness has seized us again, with the first of the debates between candidates for president. Do we really think any one person in any one office can make a very big difference in our lives? The entire system of our democracy, with its checks and balances, is designed to prevent it. True, there has been an alarming power grab at the top in the last few decades. It created deep divisions in our country.…
The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson. I reviewed it on Goodreads, which made me laugh. Date finished reading: Never. One to five stars: 10,000. Bookshelf: my iPhone, so I’m never without a Dickinson poem, should the need arise. I’m tempted to only quote Dickinson in a review of this luminary of solitude, this pristine custodian of her own periodic deaths, and this mystically crowned priestess of Nature’s God. When my inspiration flags, a Dickinson poem…
Sharing this poem which will appear in my forthcoming collection Gods of Water and Air. I’m not entirely sure from which publisher it will be forthcoming, as I’ve had some publishing mishaps you can read about earlier in this blog. But it will forthcome. Here’s a poem that originally appeared in Pilgrimage: Anvil of Light In a forgotten valley studded with runic oaks, at mid-August, on an anvil of light my breath and…
Since hearing that Kitsune Books, the publisher of Gods of Water and Air, my third poetry collection, was ending business operations on December 31, I’ve researched small press publishing to try and understand what had happened and what to do. I had picked Kitsune partly because they were a rare combination, a press publishing both poetry and prose, and I have a novel to publish. What I’ve found shocked me, even though I had a…
I’ve made it conclusive: my poetry collection, once to be published by the now-closing Kitsune Books, is now available. I can’t go with a two-month publication life for my book, which is the only possibility with Kitsune, as they are closing on December 31 and my book was to come out November 5. It’s a funny feeling, starting over, with a fully finished book — complete with blurbs and cover art. The process of sharing…
My experience with Kitsune Books has left me thinking a lot about the state of poetry publishing and the poetry community — its coherences and divisions, its fragility, and its lack of a viable economic structure. A spider is building a web on the other side of the table outside where I write this. I don’t like spiders, but I have no heart for destroying his morning’s diligent work, the kind of work I do…
It seems Gods of Water and Air won’t published this November after all. Kitsune Books is closing its doors shortly thereafter and the situation would orphan my book, taking it out of print after only a month and a half. So I have to accept this loss and move on. Here’s another poem from the book that almost was — maybe the once-and-future book? Thanks to Georgetown Review, which first published the poem. Squabble We…
Big morning for a Rocket Kid! The successful landing of the Mars Rover Curiosity made me proud to be the daughter of a rocket scientist. Proud to have grown up with a guy who blew up missiles for a living. Proud to feel that American innovation is breaking boundaries and pushing back the margins of the known world once again. I sit here typing on something more powerful than what they used to send men…