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On publishing my first poetry chapbook during COVID With love, faith, and ample allowance for depression

 


Over a year ago my publisher, God Bless Her Heart, signed on for an ‘urban-fantasy’ novel and yet, here we are now, and I’m debuting my first book of poetry.

You’d almost be forgiven to think, for good reason, that I’d pulled a fast one on her. Executed a sleight of hand; the old switcheroo — !

“Not true!” I’d harrumph in protest. The novel, all 3/4ths of which, by the way, is actually complete, is just gestating, I’d say. It’s nearly complete, but needs some time yet to ripen.

I’m doing some additional research. Reviewing story lines and story structure and plot development and rhythmic flow and —

Well, yeah. All of that. And more. And none of it. And COVID and spiraling levels of depression and parenthood and strained relationships and love and loss and —

Yeah.

So, marjorie steele  (God Bless Her Heart) got a book of poetry, Songs for the Cleveland Avenue Warriors, for her press, instead of a novel.

She even acted as if she were enthused for the whole endeavor; put in a tremendous amount of work, time, love, and the faith to see the project finalized.

Her enthusiasm for the work remains contagious. I’m excited to share it with you, with the world, because Songs for the Cleveland Avenue Warriors represents a journey for me, an exploration of my own discrete World Line, and I can’t wait to hear what you think of it.

Be aware, though, I stumble at times, admittedly, along the way. Trip outright and fall flat on my face at other times. But for some of the journey, for much of it, I feel as though I’ve found my stride.

It would humor me if you were to choose to stroll along with me, if only just for a little bit.

I could use the company.

gzus

https://medium.com/creativeonion-press/how-did-i-get-here-3ea5abcce5c3

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