Remember that little bookstore, The Bookstore, I walked to in the rain while I was in Lenox? Well, I didn't tell you what happened there, did I?
A little bit of serendipity. A little bit of the world telling me I was right where I needed to be, that I wasn't a fool for attending a writing workshop after all. I think Jack was smiling at me that day. Why, you ask?
While browsing through the poetry section in this bookstore, I noticed a small cardboard box in a chair, to the left of the bookshelf. There were dozens of old Poetry issues inside. The sign on the box read, "Old Poetry Issues. $2.50 each. Take a few."
I don't know why I did, but I reached right into the middle of the stack and pulled out this issue:
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| Poetry, December 1971 issue, $1.25 |
Then, I opened the issue up to the Table of Contents only to find Jack Myers listed inside. What a treat! I took the issue straight to the counter to buy it. My walk back to Brook Farm Inn was a nostalgic one, as I thought of certain lectures and meetings with Jack about poetry and life in general.
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| A great lineup, don't you think? |
Once back to my room, I poured a glass of wine and fell into a chair with my new prize. I read Jack's poems over and over again, then turned to the Contributor's Notes where I read:
"Jack Myers published his first collection of poems, Black Sun Abraxas, last year with Halcyone Press." There was an asterisk by his name indicating that this was his first appearance in Poetry.
At the time of this publication, that meant he was only 30 years old. Incredible.
Even in the afterlife, Jack has his way of pushing me along in my writing. I only wish I could thank him for all he did then, and all he continues to do now.
I hope you read his poems from this issue. (A personal favorite of mine is "We Never Talk.")
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I'd love to hear about a particular serendipitous moment in your life or a moment where everything you've been working toward has been affirmed.
That is a beautiful story. I have one, too!
ReplyDeleteI took a graduate poetry workshop at OSU one semester. It was supposed to be with David Citino, a wonderful poet and teacher (and a former coworker of my Dad's!). Sadly, David was too ill to teach that semester (an autoimmune disease he suffered from had worsened then). David Baker took over, and was an excellent teacher.
During that semester, David Citino passed away. It was incredibly sad--what a loss it was for the university, literary community, his family, and the world.
At the end of the course, David Baker recommended certain books to each writer in the class. He recommended a Rodney Jones book to me.
Sometime after that course, there was a book sale in the English department. Many of the books were from various professors' offices. I found one by Rodney Jones, and was very excited....even better, when I opened it, it had David Citino's name in it (it was from his office).
That book is meaningful to me. Experiences like this are so valuable for us.
I can't thank you enough for sharing this story, Hannah! Incredible and moving.
ReplyDeleteHi Andrea, I just stumbled over to your blog from Bethany Suckrow's. 1) I love your poem. 2) I love your blog and 3) I had a serendipitious day not too long after I completed my MFA program. And then I wrote a blog post about it. http://www.melodyheide.blogspot.com/2012/05/spark.html
ReplyDeleteAnyway. Hello, my name is Melody. It's nice to meet you.
Hi Melody, it is nice to meet you! Thanks for visiting my blog after reading Bethany's and for your sweet comments too. I'm heading over to read about your serendipitous moment now!
ReplyDeleteI look forward to reading your blog!