Welsh Hours

I am part Welsh, part Irish. Mostly. That said, I am claiming my WELSH HOURS (see pic at left), those moody-mood hours, which is precisely what Richard Burton, while still married to Liz Taylor, in the February 1965 issue of Cosmopolitan decreed. The magazine, incidently, was given to me by Phil Hall after I oogled it for hours one day last summer at his incredibly gorgeous treasure trove cottage hideaway: thank you, Phil. You have a fabulous new book. You're one cool leftist. And I share with you the same opinion of poetry unfolding as a jacknife. It has a little spoon, even, to scoop up with. And a corkscrew, to unscrew things...? Not sure how to appropriate the nail file in terms of poetic process, but I'll find a way.

I will be reviewing lots of things here in the coming weeks (Thank you JP for review copies of Apostrophe, Dreadful Paris, and Canada Post). Now that I am not rushing about to write essay after essay I will have some time to absorb and reflect. It was pure madness not having written an essay in, oh, 10 years, and then to have to write a slew of them. Madness! But it's over. At least til next week. I've taken on a summer course you see (Contemporary Scottish Lit, and with a real cool Scot too). I think I'm addicted to academia. Is there help available? Do I have to join a support group?

I have some time to write again too. Which is good, because although it's fun to read 10 Greek dramas-a slew of Canadian modernist poetry-tons of American fiction-and first year creative writing fiction stories in 3 months, I need to get busy with my own stuff. Or I'll have to start calling myself an academic. And I hardly have the vocabulary to support it.

Welsh hours are fun hours. Selfish desolate leave-me-alone-I'm-writing hours. We all need em.

Found out A.L. Kennedy is popping-in to Concordia for their Writers Read event next winter. I'm extremely excited (too, because I'll be creating the new Writers Read site, which is fabulous because up until that came through, I had no summer job). I adore her and her work. She is a vital human being. In some ways Sina Queyras reminds me of her. Still have to get my hands on Lemon Hound... I would simply ask the publisher for it, I mean I did already review one of their spring books and didn't get a copy, so I'm sure they'd be understanding, but really, I feel awful. Just awful about something. A little while ago I asked two publishers for two very specific books. One publisher sent me two. The other discovered I liked a certain author and sent me, oh, about 8 books. Man. And I still haven't reviewed THOSE books. So, I think I should start with those. It's not too late is it? God I hope not. I feel awful about it. I'm the reviewer who doesn't review. Much.

Anyway.

If you see this man, could you please direct him to Montreal? I'd like to get married please.