Welcome to The Trochaic Dispatch,
a newsletter where I discuss whatever unedited nonsense is on my mind.
Today’s nonsense is finishing my book and getting the ‘rona.
I finished my book. The project of two years is complete. It’s a collection of 45 new poems arranged in three acts. I’ve been calling it a Southern gothic horror novella in verse.
The book pulls inspiration from the Bible, Shakespeare, Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury, southern ghost lore, Shirley Jackson, and a little Stephen King. It’s a parable about trauma, family mythology, creation, corruption, and redemption. It combines formal and free verse with an embarrassing number of sonnets.
The book is 68 pages long, but three pages of that is a bibliography of every book I read for my degree.
I’m proud of this book. It says exactly what I want it to say. It’s magical and frightening and, I think, successfully walks the thin border between the temporal and the eternal. I apologize if I sound grandiose, but that’s what I wanted it to be when I started putting it together, and I think I succeeded. Like a mother with a newborn infant, I’m going to see my newly minted book-child as perfect. I’ll see its flaws when it’s older.
To answer some questions:
Yes, I’m trying to get it published.
No, it’s not available for purchase anywhere at the moment.
No, I am not going to self-publish. My goal is traditional publication. Self-publishing, while a worthy vehicle for packaging one’s work, doesn’t supply the academic credibility I’m looking for.
I haven’t sent it anywhere yet.
I finished it just in time to receive 75+ student assignments to grade before the semester ended.
Commencement happened.
Post-commencement mandatory faculty training happened.
Prep for vacation happened.
Vacation happened.
I’m currently recovering from Covid-19 after acquiring it on vacation.
I’m planning on conducting a lot of research to figure out which publishers might even be interested in the book in the first place.
I also need to figure out which first-book contests might be a good bet for my book. This research is a part-time unpaid job’s-worth of hours.
As soon as I find a publisher, you’ll know.
Meanwhile, the spouse and I are recovering from Covid-19. We’re entering day 5 of symptoms in what is proving to be a mild case for both of us, mine slightly milder than my spouse’s. I suspect the worst is over for me, but from what I understand, the fifth day can mark a stark turn south, even in mild cases. My fever is gone for now, and I’ve got a lingering little cough. Being fully vaccinated and boosted has helped make this a light case, and by “light” I mean I’ve had worse bouts of flu in my life. I don’t feel tired or foggy or short of breath. Just snuffly. I’m grateful for the medical interventions we’ve had access to.
Sickness doesn’t make me feel like writing poems, but it does make me feel like writing prose. So here you go—nothing revolutionary, but an update.
Be well, friends.