Jess and I are off to New York City this weekend. She wants to see a show. And the tree. And Times Square.
Now that we got an insane deal from a friend of a friend on a hotel right by The Meadowlands, I really want to snag some tickets to the Giants / Eagles game this Sunday night. For Sunday Night Football. Which would be awesome. It'll be the first and officially last time we have a shot to do so before the new stadium. That would kind of make my year complete, even though it's pretty much been complete already (see previous post).
After watching the Denver Nuggets dominate in the playoffs last year, I've become a new follower of the team. I don't think I can officially call myself a fan, but they're fun to watch, and I'll always catch a game now if it's on TV.
When I was at my aunt's for Thanksgiving, everyone had gone to bed, and I was watching the Knicks / Nuggets game, and one of the announcers said something about J.R. Smith that I thought was extremely apt for what I want to do with whatever material ends up becoming some semblance of a start for my third manuscript.
He said, "J.R. Smith's dangerous because he has infinite range and no conscience." I thought that was beautiful, especially since it was said about a basketball player. However, if you see some of the insane shots Smith puts up, and sometimes makes (more often than you'd think), then you know what I'm talking about.
But think about it.
If, as writers, we don't believe we have infinite range, than we never push ourselves to go beyond what we're capable of. Insert name after name after name of poets who keep writing the same book after the same book after the same book (or, for those who don't have a book out, the same poem after the same poem after the same poem). And having no conscience is the part that I've been fairly lucky to have, even though it's gotten me into trouble in some cases (and it still might if certain people see Ghost Lights, since there are poems in there that certain people may not want to read, for a number of reasons). Just another reason to put your balls to the wall, especially since so many writers keep doing the same things, sacrificing heart for music, sacrificing balls for artifice.
I hope I never succumb to that.
Got the third blurb for Ghost Lights, with still a handful to go.
I think I'll have a good mix once all is said and done. And I'm grateful for the time everyone's taken to write something about the book.
If everyone's saying the same thing on the back cover, then what's the point of reading more than one? Or any of them, for that matter?
And yes, I don't need you to tell me that people mostly don't read the blurbs anyway, because I know that. But thankfully folks have been, in my opinion, writing representative statements that hopefully will make someone at least open it to see if they're interested. And if they're not, I'm glad they at least wanted to see if they were.