I am sill waiting for that change of light that signals fall, but it hasn't happened just yet. Still, the weather is milder than it was a week ago, and we've shed the smothering heat. I've been primed for fall for weeks, but am especially feeling a certain excitement now. I've mentioned before that fall pursuits always feel more serious in their endeavors, a seriousness which no doubt reflects new beginning and new semesters--that internal clock that persists. I've been marking sweater dresses on pinterest for fall sales and queuing up horror and true crime. I am ready. But at the same time, I am so not ready.
Our library programming this fall is definitely of the more flexible variety. We have no idea how and when in-person things will fare, so are augmenting with virtual experiences and content. Bad Art: Kitsch, Camp, and Craft exploits are in planning nonetheless. For my contribution, I'll be making some silly little collages involving cats and space, but also, hopefully, some black velvet florals. Submissions have been rolling in and one of of student staffers is working on some horror interpretations in the style of Lisa Frank, which are amazing. On other fronts, have a couple zine projects planned for fall, including the strangerie deck and a zine for the tabloid poems, so watch for those in September & October.
I am just about set to dive into submissions for next year for dgp, the schedule of which will depend on how well I am progressing on this year's books. 2020 issues have taken a bigger bite out of year, and this year's releases are smaller and looser in their timelines going in, but I'd still like to stay mostly on schedule and wrap up some other books still blowing in the wind from 2019 that were already delayed when the pandemic hit. Having bitten off a more manageable chunk this year, it feels less scary, but still a lot of work.
Writing in the fall feels different than summer. I am much more likely to do more research driven project in my back-to-school excitement. I was remembering my first semester of grad school in my lit program and how much the ability to research was changing each year--getting easier. How technology was making things easier (no huge, volumous MLA indexes for example, which I used a lot in my undergrad time in the basement of the library.) Now, so much is available with a click. I feel like such an old lady when I talk about card catalogs and indexes, things which people even a few years younger than me are wholly unfamiliar with. Now you can write a whole research paper without leaving your computer. As technology dawned, my research got better, faster in the late 90's. By the time I landed in classes again in 2003, you could pretty much find everything you needed. These kids don't know how good they have it, says the old lady inside me.
As soon as I finish with the spell poems, I plan to either go back to some of the starlet poems I started near the end of last year. Or possibly some other little project too new in conception to talk about just yet. There is also bits and ends of several things started and unfinished lingering from the last couple years, some pre-dating the pandemic. I've been good at finishing things, but sometimes it takes a while. They get set down and neglected for other shiner things. More pressing needs. I'd be foolish to say I can wrap them up befroe the end of the year because I probably won't, but there is progress in the trying.
