The book is finally ready.I’ve seen it, played it, read it, listened to it so many times it’s near driven me mad.
The act of creation is an explosion, a maelstrom of emotional energies seeking form, vying with their own legacy of fragile structures, to Break Through to Something New.
That is the goal.
But the monotony of honing the perfection; wherein the hot metals cool and adhere to the cast, is the labour that seems unending compared to that first ejaculate of inspiration.
So we toil as we complain.
But there never really ever was any turning back
If you’re reading this, you can get a special discount offer on the website; a kind of 2-4-1 deal. The kind of incentive that is supposed to get you to read my stuff.
The official release is Wednesday, APRIL FOOL’S DAY, which I consider entirely appropriate. A day like any other day, displaced by a change in calendar; a recalibration of our instruments that measure time makes fools of us all when we forget what the calendar really measures:
our own steep descent in running out of time.
So like you, I am a Fool
I took the opportunity to be published and turned it into something more; something different, something that I felt should have been tried by now. But it hadn’t been.
So I did.
Doing something new.
Whilst the machinations of publishing both print and online, grind into gear, releasing steam and a rumbling thunder, I prepare for my flight from the north to the south.
I will be in the air when this book lifts off from its pad.
I hope it flies.
With your help, it very well may.
After Scrutinizing the Content for Possible Obscenity, Apple Approves My Book for iTunes. Download Friday!
(Paying attention like a fine,
Sniffing out the muddied footprints of the divine.)
This ticket that you’re riding,
Fare-less and Free,
Is merely the impetus of your Desire
By any other force or sway
Upon your singular trajectory through time.
For Tatiana Iosifovna Doubro who is ejected from planes and recites Pushkin by heart as she is flies through space.
Death protects us from burning in the Sun
Light that surrounds our momentum,
Or from drowning, faces upturned in the rain.
Decades like minutes whip us by.
But Death will protect us from the sting in the wind,
She’ll huddle us close in the folds of her midnight dress.
And when it’s time to go; 12 bells the toll,
She’ll insure that all her children are aligned and tenderly accounted for.
I am posting this to announce the official publishing of my book IS SHE AVAILABLE? On April 1st, 2015. the ebook will be available for download on a variety of commercial websites; not least of which is the official website http://is-she-available.com where you will be able to both download the book and pre-order the hardcover edition.
Please, tell your Friends.
“Friends”: how strange that word now seems to me given the dilation of its meaning over the past what 5, 10 years? I recall using the word in reference to a small circle of familiar intimacies; varied in nature and personality but common in values and how we choose to pass our time.
Of course now my Facebook tally shows that I have somewhere near 2,000 such Friends, comprised mainly of people I have never met, with whom I have exchanged a few words at best; and yet in that exchange of Words, have widened the circle of that meaning: Friendship.
Which is why I have come to not so much to write poetry (I started when I was 13), as to publish it. In a form that suits it’s purpose: to reach out to as many people as I can, the Friends of my Friends (and their Friends too), through the channels that will reach them across this sea of data, signs and meanings our attention now spans.
But even the word ‘book’ now seems to have acquired a fluidity of meaning that transcends its original reference. My work is a tangible, page-turning book designed by maestro Rian Hughes; an electronic book with music and animation, a CD of 15 music tracks by the musical enfant adorable Gilad Atzmon; a portfolio of art prints and a selection of Poet-T-Shirts, bearing a selection of fine art images and illustrations from my dozen collaborators on this book.
This ‘Book’ is also a live spoken word/jazz music tour in the US this coming this early summer and a UK tour this Autumn.
I apologise to my Friends who have been hanging on, hearing fragments of news, awaiting the date they can hear less about it and more what it says. I confess, like many things,
it was all my fault.
The inception of this project dates back nearly a year to March 2014, when the author/publisher Amy Sterling, after a long dialogue about writing on Facebook, suggested that her nascent publishing company CHAMELEON Publishing Inc. would be interested in publishing my work. Chameleon Publishing Inc. was a new, next-generation publishing company based in Southern California that’s opening new market channels for books with new readers, mainly for and about women. When I first mentioned my sole discrepancy in this area, Amy replied casually with the second greatest compliment a woman has ever paid me: “But your sensibility fits”.
And I’m thankful that it has, because without the efforts of the women who have supported this project, it would not have come to be. From Eleanor Brooks my firm, caring editor, to my daughter Olivia Goldkind-Brooks, to Addie Kaplan my business manager, this vehicle is powered by a uniquely feminine drive. Since the start gun fired, I have been on an unimaginable roller coaster ride of magical serendipity, dazzling disappointments and a severe lack of funds. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that the career of a writer or any artist is easy; sure you have more freedom, but freedom costs what money can’t buy: time, effort and persistence.
I had hoped to announce the publication before Christmas, then the New Year. But the practical demands and hurdles involved in this kind of innovation and creation (thank you, Adobe!), persists with its own priorities, own issues to resolve. I also encumbered myself with the urgency of my mother’s impending demise late last year. I had to unburden myself of the notion that I needed to place a copy of my book in her hand before she passed. It wasn’t practical it wasn’t possible and in the end, it wasn’t necessary.
The personal is always constrained by the impersonal.
Now we are resolved.
My persistence on this project, (some would add, against all reason), is about to see fruit. Whether the fruit is sweet or bitter (or both) will soon be for others to determine. What I can tell you is that I have put all of myself into this this deeply confessional, personal work. All of my sweat, all of my anger, all of my love, all of my hatred, all of my blood, sinew and bone into the making of this creation. My intent is to connect with you, with your emotions, your experiences and your sense of your self by sharing the most personal in the most universal way I can. I believe, at the depth of our selves, in our own most solitary, private existences is where we find each other gathered, maybe huddled, in the same exact corner.
It will not be to everyone’s tastes, I’m sure. But if you care to take a look you will find a work that endeavors not to entertain, nor offer safe refuge from harsh truths; but rather to be that truth in Word, in Image, in Music and in Movement.
Because . . .
When you stare into the Abyss long enough,
the abyss will stare back at you;
and if your gaze remains unflinching,
the Abyss will speak to you
And this is what it says . . .