I sure hope This Weather doesn't mess with my writing this winter. Plus other aspects of my life could weaken me as a writer. So at least I hope not to suck eggs.
I am starting this new year by moving. Yes shy to say where, but I feel very positive about my choice. A place of my heritage and personal history. Plus it is a very handsome place. Also people live here. Sorry about you folks in Detroit. I suppose things will pick up in my fiction, but poetry is my worry, and I must keep working on structure and structures. To understand language keenly. To go where no man has gone before. Meaning should come mainly in the doing, less in profoundly pithy mind benders. In other words the yucky developments in writing. I loath the writing that suggests the great importance of the interior world of the artist. I WOULD RATHER EXPRESS THE LIGHTNING IN MY SOUL.
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