Shrinkage may occur

Over the past while, I have received amazing poetry chapbooks in the mail from Sam Andreyev in Paris and from Hugh Thomas in Fredericton. Sam has been producing books and tapes and comics for about a decade, and I think this is Hugh's first chapbook. I'm in the middle of a rush copyedit for Coach House right now, so my mind is too elsewhere-focused to comment any further.

Meanwhile, I'm eagerly awaiting my copy of radiant danse uv being: A Poetic Portrait of bill bissett, edited by Jeff Pew and Stephen "Rox" Roxborough. Apparently it's enormous. Poems by about 100 Canadian poets, for bill. I have a little pantoum in there about the time bill kissed me in front of a threatening cluster of homophobes. Gonna be a nice book, I think.

Next weekend I head out to the Kootenays to do some workshops and readings, and I'll likely head to Kimberley for the first launch of the bill book. Going to spend a couple weeks in Terry Taylor's amazing cabin, where last year I learned to light a woodstove and use an outhouse. Maybe we'll kayak some more. Maybe I'll finally finally finally finish my goddamn novel.

Looked at the proofs today for the upcoming issue of This Magazine. The mag has a new editor -- will she keep me on? I wonder. I've been there a few years now, so maybe it's time for me to be bumped. But I have so much more I want to do!

Some progress is being made on Syd & Shirley #2. One of my poets seems to have gone AWOL, so I had to replace her. I wrote to one of my favourite American poets (no, no one in New York), and to my shock, because I don't know him, he said yeah! Now I have to finesse the interview with Joel Lewis and get that thing going. It's a little boy-heavy, that's for sure. I'll make up for it next time.

I've been wondering for a while whether I should mention on my blog that I'm seeing a shrink lately. I haven't decided yet. He's an existentialist. I mean, if I was seeing a shrink, he'd be an existentialist.

Dana and I are finishing off the final season of Homicide on DVD. It's the worst season yet, but this two-parter featuring the return of Mike Kellerman is pretty good. There are far too many beautiful new main characters on the show in the last season or two. It's like an Eaton's catalogue or somethin'. But man, for the first few years, it was the best TV I've ever seen.

I'm reading David McFadden's An Innocent in Cuba, finally. He and I went for lunch last week: Mezzetta, our original plan, was closed, so we drove out to Little India and went to the Famous. It was spectacular as always. What a great visit. Afterwards, Dave invited me into his apartment and he gave me a couple of books: Lowry and Allende. I looked at the Greg Curnoe art on his walls. He explained to me his incredible, unique system for choosing what to read from his wonderful book collection. Ask him about it sometime.

Over and out.