Last night, Sara and I went out to Oz to the Poetry Sucks event. It was awesome. I continue to wish I had a word for how I feel about Rita Bullwinkel’s writing, where I want to both force her work into the hands of everyone I know AND I burn with jealousy, because who would read me once they’ve read her? If you ever seem me walking through the streets of Nashville in an incandescent yellow flame, you can be sure it’s rage about something the legislature has done.
But, if you see me burning in an incandescent white/blue flame, it’s just my jealousy over Bullwinkel’s talent. Where is her book contract? How is she not famous? How is she not Nashville’s Kelly Link? I don’t understand why she’s not exploded over the nation yet.
Ciona Rouse was amazing. I’d like to see her read again.
But I was most surprised by Todd Dills, who I’ve known on and off, but not well, for a few years, but who I’ve never seen read. He utterly transforms. It’s like watching a man possessed. His facial expressions are different, his voice booms in a way it normally doesn’t. You feel like you have been moved physically, like three inches to the left.
It was amazing.
And then Chet announced we’re doing another one in August and he pointed everyone at me. So, hey, I guess we’re doing another Poetry Sucks! in August and I’ll be reading at it.
More details as I know them. I will probably read from my F&SF piece which is a blasphemy full of derogations, so that will be fun.