Mozer, Bethea and Me (for Veteran’s Day)
The original version of the poem, written back in 2003, was entitled Mozer, Bethea and I (as published in Handmade Memories), and it had a ranty, overly political ending that tried to be a little too clever and felt like a different poem from the opening, I tightened it all up, including a bit more nuance in Mozer’s section, while heavily revising the closing to end up with what I think is a far stronger, more personal, more relatable work. Veteran’s Day isn’t a time for generic sentiments, positive or negative, but a time for personal reflection. I’m generally ambivalent about my time in the military because I met far too many people who defied easy stereotypes of what it means to be pro- or anti-war, and I’ve always had nothing but respect for anyone who has served, not to mention a fair bit of curiosity about why they did so.
Achievement Unlocked: Half-Marathon #RWHalf
I ran my first half-marathon yesterday as part of Runner’s World’s Half & Festival in Bethlehem, PA, with a faster than expected time of 1:45:39!
Let Poetry Be
I’ve always been fascinated (and frustrated) by poetry’s “delicate snowflake” status, and how such a diverse variety of forms, styles, and voices often gets lumped into such a generic, cavernous category, like literary fiction and graphic novels. One of the things I’ve always loved about good anthologies and open mics is the inherent (or the potential for) diversity in those formats, something that’s not clearly communicated on bookstore shelves nor the Dewey Decimal system.
Yahoo Bets Big on GIFs, Porn, and Fickle Teens…
When Google acquired Blogger in 2003, it was a smart move that tied directly to their core ad business, with the visionary bonus of foreseeing the value of user-generated content when it was still scoffed at. Yahoo acquiring Tumblr 10 years later (after badly fumbling GeoCities, del.icio.us, and Flickr, among others) is like the drunk uncle showing up late to a baby shower with a stripper and a trained monkey. Even the “announcement” via GIF feels forced and desperate.
You Can Go Home Again
I’ve noted often in the past that most of what I preach and practice when it comes to marketing and community-building, I learned during those four years of Mondays, and by the end of the night last Monday, I realized how big a hole I’d created when I walked away from that part of my life. So, I’m back.
The REAL Tools of Change? People
Yesterday’s announcement that O’Reilly is retiring TOC came as a bit of a surprise at first, but in retrospect, it makes sense. Its focus on tools was a strength in the early days of the digital transition, but as the new shiny wore off, self-proclaimed “disruptors” faded away quietly, and viable business models came to light, it became clear that the tools of change that counted most were the people in the trenches, not the provocative pundits with plenty of ideas and little or no skin in the game.
Story Chairs, Pocket Poems, and the Fickle Flame of Inspiration
Perhaps it’s just the drama this week offered — from the tragic and inspiring events in Boston, to some big things starting to shake loose at the day job — combining with the unexpected introduction to some good poems, but I’m getting that feeling again, a tentative spark that danced unusually bright in my brain throughout my run this morning. It wasn’t a full-fledged poem, just the beginnings of one, words and ideas tap-dancing to a vaguely familiar rhythm, a lucid dream that lasted for a couple of miles before threatening to fade if I didn’t write them down. So I did, cheating my cooldown and stretching to get to the computer as fast as I could.
Don’t Stop Running
The feeling of running across the finish line, whether it’s a one-mile walk for charity or a local 10k, an Olympic sprint or the Boston Marathon, is supposed to be a special one. It’s personal accomplishment mixed with exuberant community connection; an emotional high laced with varying degrees of physical exhaustion. It’s not ever supposed to be a moment where death might lash out randomly. Where cowards make political statements. Where fear and suspicion take root.
BioShock Infinite’s Ambitiously Flawed Perfection
“Wow…” That was my whispered, slack-jawed reaction to the final 30 minutes of BioShock Infinite, arguably the most compelling video game experience I’ve ever had. It’s not a perfect game by any stretch of the definition, and since completing the game, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading some of the more measured reviews that haven’t been afraid to point out its flaws, but to borrow a phrase from Grace Jones, it might not be perfect, but it’s perfect for me.
Discovery is Publishers’ Problem; Readers are Doing Just Fine
Never mind the folly of dismissing Goodreads, a social network dedicated to books with 13m+ members and is steadily growing, or even Pinterest, where Random House has inexplicably attracted 1.5m followers, but the very idea that “something is really, chronically missing in online retail discovery” is arguably contradicted by Amazon’s 2012 results, suggesting that “online retail discovery” isn’t really a problem for readers. It’s a problem for publishers.