Asheville after the storm

I missed the bus last night. Seems like I’ve been missing a lot this week. Work has been a storm of activity. A project, a Weekly Planner, I sent to press at the beginning of the month finally arrived and looks fantastic. But like two weather fronts colliding, the Weekly Planner crashes into another project, a paperback book, and it seems the days and nights wrestle for control of my energy.

I missed The Kakalak Poets on Saturday, but caught the Bernstein and Cabanis-Brewin reading at Malaprop’s on Sunday. Their reading centered around place; specifically Western North Carolina. It was an unusually balm mid-October afternoon and I felt like a stranger at the event even though I’ve been to Malaprop’s dozens if not hundreds of times. It was the way their work spoke of this region; deeply intimate.

Marvin Bell read at UNC Asheville’s Reuter Center Wednesday night. I attend the reading. Arriving early, I found a place in the back and began reading through a copy of the American Poetry Review. It arrived last weekend, but I hadn’t had time to read it. Someone kicked my foot and I looked up to find a smiling Sebastian Matthews who found a seat next to me. That reading was marvelous and the conversation afterwards with other poets and writers was equally nice. I wanted to greet Marvin Bell, but I lost courage and remembered I had to get home and check on correspondence with the author of the paperback book project I’m developing.

Thursday night, after missing the bus, I realized I’d missed my exercise routine all week. I had a 30-minute, two mile routine that I try to accomplish three times a week. So I walked to the Asheville Transit Center as a way to get back on track. It’s two miles exactly. Since I was a block away from Asheville Brewing Company, I popped in for a quick pint of Ninja Porter and a Rocky’s Philly Cheesteak. I think Drinking Liberally was meeting there, but I had to dash off or I’d miss the bus again. I’m glad it’s Friday. I hope I don’t miss the weekend.

Resignation a bit rocky

For the last four or five weeks I’ve been tormented. Should I, or shouldn’t I continue contributing to Write Stuff. See, I’ve been extremely busy in my professional life (of publishing other people’s books) that I felt that my contributions were lacking the quality I wanted to deliver. So I emailed the site’s leader this weekend and politely resigned and promised to deliver one final contribution: Rainless among marram.

This morning I read today’s Write Stuff post about defining genres and left a comment that was DELETED! WTF! I mean, is it necessary to delete the comment?

My comment mentioned that genres are mainly decided by publishing companies to help bookstores sell books. In the same manner, the recording industry uses the same strategy to sell albums by differentiating their target audience by marketing a project as ‘country’ or ‘alt country’ or ‘punk americana country.’ I referenced Peter Rubie’s book Telling the Story: How to Write and Sell Narrative Nonfiction. It includes a section on how genres are defined. Rubie write to help writers pitch their work.

So, crassly speaking, genres help sell books. Or not so crassly, genres help publishers deliver titles to the correct audiences.

Why would that get DELETED? I don’t get it. Whatever. I go back to work now.

UPDATE: Not only was my post deleted, but someone else’s (username Square1) was also deleted. Thanks to Google Reader (I RSS the Write Stuff comments), I was able to learn this detail. I wonder if there is a glitch in their comments software, because Square1 left a comment on my final Write Stuff post, Rainless among marram that was not deleted.