Videos From My Reading

I had the privilege of being invited to read some of my poems and an unpublished short story at the Conover Public Library last night for a group on their biweekly Author Night.

The evening went really well, and was a lot of fun, although I have to admit it was nerve-wracking because it was the first time I’d ever read my writing in that kind of setting.  I certainly wouldn’t call it my best public speaking performance ever, and looking back at it I can see that reading poetry is very much a learned skill I have not yet learned.

But, why don’t you be the judge?  Here are two videos from the evening.  The first is the intro to the evening where I discuss what I do as a writer and why I feel I do it.  The second is the reading of five poems from two of my collections, The Ectopic Epiphany and Coping With Terminal Stillness.

The Intro

The Five Poems

I am not including the reading of the story because it is unpublished thus far.

Let me know what you think of the performance, I can use all the help I can get!

Brand New Kindle Additions are Out!

Courtesy of kodomut (flickr)

Just a quick note to let everyone know that all three of my books are now available on the Kindle if you enjoy the digital experience.

They’re only $0.99, which kind of rocks.

I’ll admit the formatting didn’t survive the transition really well, so I’m going to be playing around with it and trying to make it better, now that I understand it.  But in the meantime, here are the links.

And as always, thanks for your support!

Sanity is Boring (Kindle)

The Ectopic Epiphany (Kindle)

Coping With Terminal Stillness (Kindle)

Poem – The Glassblower

This poem can be found in my second collection, The Ectopic Epiphany.

It’s actually based off a memory from a solid twenty years prior to when I wrote it:

I was nine years old, at Disney World with my parents in one of the plethora of gift shops, and this one had a special centerpiece.  A glassblower was making tiny glass sculptures while the crowd watched.  I was mesmerized by the torch and the red-hot molten glass as he twirled and spun it between his deft fingers.

He was just making simple little animal heads and other simple figures at the top of slender glass rods, but as far as I was concerned, it was the highest level of fine art, and he was selling them for $5 a piece.

But he must have gotten a drift of the intensity with which I was concentrating on his every move, because he finished up a little unicorn head, let it cool for a few seconds, then handed it to me and gave me a wink.

That was the coolest part of the whole trip for me, (which probably irritated my parents who had spent a few grand to make it happen,) and I kept that unicorn head on its glass rod in tact for a solid 15 years after that day.  And that’s saying a lot considering I was a hyperactive pre-teen when the glassblower handed it to me.

So, with that story in mind, here it is:

The Glassblower

Liquid flames in glowing globules
perched at the end of a crystalline stick
of glass held loosely in heavy-gloved
hands with precision and with love

A blue-white flame shoots straight to heaven
with the glowing bubble expanding inside it
filling with the glassblower’s breath
and filling the world with orange-white radiance

This all-too-brilliant bubble, brittle to the cooling air
will one day fill with liquid or be dropped
by less attentive hands to shatter shards of
crystal or to cut and draw droplets of scarlet life

But for the moment, all the glassblower knows
and sees and feels is the growing, glowing
dream of what his deftly-trained fingers can create
from molten sand and living flame

Potential viewed from an expert distance and
formed by expert hands to fulfill what the dumb glass
never recognizes in itself or in the glassblower.

If you enjoyed that poem, you may like the collection.  It’s available in print on Amazon or Createspace.  I’m also considering making it available on the Kindle and other e-readers.  Let me know if that interests you.