It’s the countdown to everyone’s holidays and I want to wish you the fullest and most life loving of seasons. My own Thanksgiving, in the company of friends and family and my terrific grown up children put the worries and challenges of living in a world of heartache and frailty aside and when I choose to breath, I felt to air from my lips to the souls of my feet and I remembered that “It could be worse”does not have be part of every Thanksgiving gratitude.Sometimes no qualifier is needed.

As many of you know the contest has been extended to December 31. As a first contest, this is not unusual since it takes some time for folks to discover us. That said, we have 75 entries now, which is small as such things go but perhaps good for those who have entered. And I have, since I need to take my time, started reading the manuscripts. The minimum for my first run through has averaged an hour and often I take longer. I make notes as I go. I need to allow myself time to clear my mind between readings. In my mind, I try not to compare any manuscript to any other poet’s writing, but to clear my mind of comparisons I make notes on every manuscript, noticing especially strong poems, and work that strives and asks questions and goes beyond them. At my best, I read as though this is the only chapbook in the universe, and my delight or my questions rise from that. At my worst, I put down a chapbook and let it sit till later because I know when I am not at my most clear eyed and receptive. So far, I have been touched by my first readings (yes I will do second ones in the next month and a half because I have lived a life of second chances) and this is by no means going to be a simple process to prune down the final group.

To those who have asked for feedback, that will come after the final selection and I will read each manuscript I am tasked with yet again, and notice if you wanted anything in particular in the way of commentary. To those of you who did not ask for feedback, that opportunity is still open and you can always write me saying you would like this.

Today there has been good and bad news, but fortunately the bad is only that my vacuum cleaner Bessie has died after eight years of faithful service, struggling with the dog hair and my tendency to be Clara Klutz. The good news came in from Israel, where they said I am honorable mention (it is good to be mentioned in an honorable way!) in The Reuben Rose, Voices Israel poetry competition. So it was expensive bad luck my vacuum died, but priceless news that somebody actually read a poem I wrote. So pick a moment. Take a satisfaction break Notice not only did you write one poem but many and further you had the courage to send them off into the four winds to land at Wildflower Lane, where each poem is a tangible wonder, where each poet has her name spoken. Yes, I feel there is something magical in reading first lines and second and third….

Peace…Jane

Today I light a fire, for the first time this year, as the temperatures plummet, as the reds and oranges of autumn give way to the grays and browns, and I think to myself, it is good to read some poetry to heat me up from the inside out. So I pick up a few of the manuscripts which pile up in my living room (which is also my dining room, kitchen and writing room) and allow the flames to surge and snap and glow.

I am thankful so many have sent in their precious work–it seems I have many treasures in my hands–that I am entrusted with–to honor and give my entire attention. We are approaching sixty-five manuscripts now–which has been the result of so much outreach, so much creative spreading of the word not only by Elliott and myself, but by the women I have spoken to in acknowledgement of their manuscripts. I thank everyone who has told a friend, mentioned it in a poetry group or MFA program. If QuillsEdge is to make it, artistically and financially (ah yes, nothing grows without green–even the Goddess Udjat, the Goddess of the Eye’s name means green) we need to spread our fields wide, as the psalms say.

I am a person for whom poetry is like slow food, a person who needs lots of time to appreciate flavors, textures, visions– hence I start leisurely contemplating the manuscripts. And it occurs to me that when in the past I have sent out my work, the process of how it has been evaluated has remained a mystery. And rarely does a rejection slip or an acceptance, for that matter, lend any transparency as to what it was about the poetry that made it special or resigned it to recycling.(No not even a hint or a shred of what it had or lacked for my readers.) So I have decided to say a little here, and say more in other posts, about my adventures in reading and my process reading your work.

My co-conspirator Elliot, wild of red hair and sprit, says when she reads excellence, extraordinary-ness, she always exclaims “I wish I had written that!” It is the quintessential Eureka and she has, I think, hit the ultimate gold nail on the head. Yet because I tend to complicate things to infinity (just saying–obsession is a priceless pathology for a poet) I write down pages and pages just noticing what I need to notice in every manuscript. Of course this is about as likely as me memorizing the all of the Holy Sonnets or the Books of Moses (or the Books of Mrs. Moses or Grandma Moses) but still, it is something that is my process. Nonetheless, realizing it will only get in the way–I give it up immediately after I displace the yellow dog (gently, with a milk bone) off her (my) chair to read in the living room decorated by pictures of Navaho women weaving. First, I read the title. (How linear–but a title is important) I usually feel and smell the manuscript (I grow to maturity in the touchy feely days) and I pop on my seriously electric blue reading glasses. I sit down for the time it takes, minus pacing and pee breaks I keep reminding myself–Jane look, see (See Jane, see Jane read) now deeper and now again. So I read in and then aloud since that is the heritage of our craft. I had some learning differences, still do, as a child. This is allowed me to feel fine about taking twice the time and doing half of what normal people do. It allows me to look at the craft deeply and delight in it, to recognize “ah, a Sestina or a Petrarchan Sonnet, an Ode or an Elegy . It gives me permission to consider content and complexity–individual,historic, common and uncommon, earthy and ethereal.It allows me to take journeys into exotic places. And incredibly important for me, it opens up the music of the poetry–that music that propels and pulses the words.

Because comparing manuscripts is impossible–so much greater than simply comparing apples to oranges–we are talking not merely planets here, but solar systems, galaxies,nebulas and black holes, quasars and pulsars–I know I am in for the ride of lifetimes. Not only your’s or mine…

Yet the evaluation itself is truly subjective in its least definable. It is individual and cellular–our reckoning of poetry. And if I don’t get chosen or choose one manuscript that does not mean it should be discounted in any way. Each work has a validity, a reason and right to be–it has its own beauty,courage and expression. To quote Sweet Honey and the Rock, “It is the sons and daughters of life (your life) longing for itself.” It is bread. It is meat. It is fruit. It is.

So as I head towards Thanksgiving, I say a blessing for each dear poets, in a conspiracy (conspire means to love) of abundance and creation. After the turkey flies off your table– before the maids come a milking, I write again. Until then and always,savor your own unique and juicy possibilities. In common measure, Jane

Yesterday I happily catalogued the new entries for the chapbook contest. I could not help but peek at a poem here, a poem there. So many talented women are entering. And while a first contest is always challenged to find enough submissions to defray costs and produce the best book possible, because I am finding such great achievement in these submissions it will make all the P & J I have to eat over the coming time totally worth it! If you see this, I would ask our followers to spread the word so other kindred poets know we are here, and want to work for a very worthy cross-section of women poets over fifty. To everyone I hope the fall is beautiful and full of harvested sweetness. Jane

The flood gates have opened and the manuscripts are coming in!  Jane and I just opened the first three to arrive and we are THRILLED!  All three:

1. followed the guidelines (which means the guidelines are clear and easy to follow!)

2. Included checks in the proper amounts (we have a 1st taker on a paid review/feedback!)

3. Are VERY STRONG writing! We know that there is an amazing amount of great poetry by women over 50 out there, and we’re going to prove it.

Happy poets, happy editors, happy Press Work day at Jane’s all day today. Email blast going out soon, then a publicity strategies conversation, then invitations for poets we love and admire to be on our advisory board.

Keep those manuscripts coming!

St. Elizabeth’s College is hosting a four day seminar for
Artists & Writers featuring the poet Mark Doty from
Sunday June 29 – Wednesday, July 2, 2014.  There will
be  featured readings & craft talks as well as workshops
includingWriting Across Genres, Magical Realism, New Visions,
Visual Art as Prompt. Some meals are included to give you
a place to connect and grow ideas. Jane, wearing her hats in
Integrated Arts in Education Expression and poet will be doing
a workshop with Lynne McEniry,a gifted poet and educator.
We will focus on Visual Art as Prompt. If you are interesting
the link is:

http://www.cse.edu/academics/artists-and-writers/index.dot