Holy moly, is there anything more difficult than waiting for a new book to come out?! I don’t think so. So for those of you who hate to wait as much as I do, (especially for THIS ONE TO THE RIGHT) here are some good sites for cyber-stalking your favorite up and coming titles.
Friends, it’s National Poetry Month, so I snagged this tidy collection of fifty autobiographical unrhymed sonnets by acclaimed poet Marilyn Nelson and spent a sublime afternoon in the spring sun absorbing it. I’ve loved Nelson’s work ever since I read A Wreath for Emmett Till, her gorgeous homage to the life and death of a young boy whose callous murder helped spark the Civil Rights movement. This meticulously arranged selection of poems highlight different moments from Nelson’s childhood and adolescence in the 1950’s, each one an intimate little insight into what it was like to be constantly uprooted due to her father’s Air Force enlistment, to be the only black girl in her class or black family on the military base, to wonder and worry when she heard adults mention “The Red Menace” or “hide drajen” bombs. Both a snapshot of a person’s life and an unforgettable time period in American history, How I Discovered Poetry is also tribute to the power of words arranged in lines and stanzas and couplets. The last two poems actually made me gasp aloud, not only because of the thought-provoking content, but with admiration that Nelson could say so much with just a few well-chosen, well-placed words: “I say to the dark:/Give me a message I can give the world./Afraid there’s a poet behind my face,/I beg until I’ve cried myself to sleep.” Get thee to a library and check out Nelson’s work pronto, but if all you’ve got at the moment is an Internet connection and a thirst for beautiful turns of phrase, take a minute to drink in some poetry from this fine selection of websites:
Rose Wallace has been going with her family to their rented cabin at Awago Beach “Ever since…like…forever.” She anticipates this summer will be much like all the others spent swimming, biking and hanging out with her younger friend Windy. But this is the summer that Rose discovers the cheap thrill of horror movies, the ache of an unrequited crush and the weight of adult secrets. She longs to flirt with the gangly teenage clerk at the corner store who rents her and Windy The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but she’s too shy. She wants to shake her withdrawn mother out of her unrelenting sadness over an unspoken tragedy that happened last summer, but she’s too scared. She yearns to understand why she and Windy are growing apart, why the shabby town of Awago is so different from the rental houses by the beach, and why all the girls in horror movies seem to be so, well, stupid. She wants to know why this one summer is the summer when everything that used to be simple suddenly became complicated. This wistful, character driven GN, inked in a cool blue palatte, perfectly captures that transitional moment between chewing gum and trying cigarettes. Rose and Windy are both polar opposites and kindred spirits, clashing as Rose leans into adolescence and Windy leans back into childhood, but coming back together when the confusing world of parents and slasher movies becomes too much. This One Summer should be number one on your summer reading list.