Month: May 2022

May 2022 Reading List

John Winkelman

What I read in the month of May 2022

This was another very poetry-heavy month, though I did manage to sneak in a couple of books about politics and the like. This quantity of poetry reading is putting my head in an interesting place, and I have written a couple of poems about the effect of reading so much poetry in a compressed time-frame. Perhaps this is what it is like to be an English major.

Two items of note here: Between Clay and Dust, which is the first fiction I have read since sometime in March, and Kameron Hurley’s short fiction, which is the first such I have read this year. 2022 had been like that.

Books and Journals

  1. Poetry Magazine #215.6 (March 2020) [2022.05.04]
  2. Poetry Magazine #216.1 (April 2020) [2022.05.05]
  3. Poetry Magazine #216.2 (May 2020) [2022.05.08]
  4. Poetry Magazine #216.3 (June 2020) [2022.05.10]
  5. Poetry Magazine #216.4 (July-August 2020) [2022.05.11]
  6. Poetry Magazine #217.1 (October 2020) [2022.05.15]
  7. Poetry Magazine #217.2 (November 2020) [2022.05.16]
  8. Poetry Magazine #217.3 (December 2020) [2022.05.17]
  9. Anderson, Benedict, Imagined Communities [2022.05.18]
  10. Poetry Magazine #217.4 (January 2021) [2022.05.19]
  11. Poetry Magazine #217.5 (February 2021) [2022.05.20]
  12. Poetry Magazine #217.6 (March 2021) [2022.05.22]
  13. Poetry Magazine #218.1 (April 2021) [2022.05.23]
  14. Duncombe, Stephen, Dream or Nightmare [2022.05.24]
  15. Poetry Magazine #218.2 (May 2021) [2022.05.25]
  16. Poetry Magazine #218.3 (June 2021) [2022.05.26]
  17. Poetry Magazine #218.4 (July/August 2021) [2022.05.27]
  18. Farooqi, Musharraf Ali, Between Clay and Dust [2022.05.28]
  19. Poetry Magazine #218.5 (September 2021) [2022.05.29]
  20. Poetry Magazine #219.1 (October 2021) [2022.05.31]

Short Prose

  1. Hurley, Kameron, “Sky Boys”, Future Artifacts: Stories [2022.05.29]
  2. Hurley, Kameron, “Overdark”, Future Artifacts: Stories [2022.05.31]

The Bottom of the Top #22

John Winkelman

Memorial Day weekend never really meant much to me, as it was (in grade school) all about the parade through town and playing patriotic songs at the VFW and waiting for the National Guard howitzer to go boom, while in the back of my head I was simultaneously anticipating and dreading the school year being over. On the one hand, no more school for three month. On the other hand, three months of being even more isolated than usual on the farm. And once I was out of school and in the work force, during the years represented here I worked in restaurants or retail, so Memorial Day weekend was busier than usual, and full of entitled consumers taking out their frustrations on underpaid workers. As it always is.

1977: Manfred Mann’s Earth Band, “Spirits in the Night”

This is a deeply groovy song, but I don’t remember when I first heard it. Probably sometime in junior high, because on first playing it while writing this post I had a definite hit of deja vu which put me in mind of sitting sullenly on a school bus buried under music instruments, athletic equipment, and homework. I mostly know Manfred Mann etc. from “Blinded by the Light” and “Quinn the Eskimo.” So this is another instance of the temporal shear made possible by and exacerbated by, oldies stations.

1982: Karla Bonoff, “Personally”

I might have heard “Personally” back when it was released. It has that early-eighties smooth vibe like the seventies have not quite been transcended, and were it released a few years earlier it would have fit right in. This is a pretty song, and Bonoff is a wonderful singer.

1987: T’Pau, “Heart and Soul”

This one made something of a splash when it was released, and I remember hearing it on the radio on my way to and from one of the worst jobs I have ever had in my life – working the belt at the Eaton Rapids pickle factory. Having fun music to listen to made things slightly less unbearable. To be fair, I only occasionally listened to the radio (Q106!); mostly I had David Bowie cassettes (Tonight, Never Let Me Down) on heavy rotation in the after-market tape deck in my 1977 Cutlass Supreme. Like every other song of the summer of 1987, this marked me treading water, counting the seconds until I left for college and put Springport permanently in my rearview mirror.

1992: Atlantic Starr, “Masterpiece”

I have probably heard “Masterpiece” more times at weddings than on the radio or on MTV, though it was on heavy rotation back in 1992. It doesn’t pull at any nostalgic threads, so I will say this is just one of those ubiquitous songs which seems to have always been around.

1997: Depeche Mode, “It’s No Good”

Depeche Mode keyboardist Andrew Fletcher died four days ago. Goddammit so much. I was never a DM superfan, but their songs and sound were the soundtrack of the 1990s, and “It’s No Good” was particularly popular among my group of friends, back in the day. 25 years ago I was at the cusp of a new relationship; I was hanging out with a group of renfaire types at Grand Valley practicing padded weapon fighting, and working at the low-paying bookstore and living in a crappy apartment and driving a crappy car and exhausting myself every day with kung fu and tai chi practice, as well as beginning the process of becoming a martial arts instructor. All of which is to say, for all the stress, it was a pretty good year.

A Long-ish Weekend

John Winkelman

New books for the week of May 22, 2022

Oh, what a month it has been. The days are longer, the weather is warmer, and we are not far from the halfway point of 2022. Suddenly this long year has become surprisingly short.

Three new books arrived in the past week.

First up is Kameron Hurley‘s new collection of short stories Future Artifacts, recently published by Apex Book Company. I met Kameron at the ConFusion science fiction convention some years ago, and she has graciously signed several of her books. I haven’t read any of her work in a couple of years, so I started reading it on Saturday.

Next on the stack is Issue 22 of the Boston Review Forum, titled Rethinking Law. I had let my membership to the Boston Review lapse, but they had a re-up offer which was too good to pass up. And since it’s only three issues a year, the additional weight in my house should be manageable.

And on the right is Bad Eminence by James Greer, delivered Saturday afternoon from And Other Stories.

In reading news, I am caught up to autumn of 2021 in my read-through of the pile of unread back issues of Poetry. Time and energy permitting, I may catch up to present sometime in June.

I finished Stephen Duncombe‘s Dream or Nightmare. Though unintended, it was the perfect follow-up to Benedict Anderson‘s Imagined Communities, as though the Anderson is about nationalism and the Duncombe about progressive political strategies, they both make the point that, when it comes to politics (which is to say, practically everything about society), people qua people don’t really notice or care about the minutiae of daily life outside of their immediate reach. What they notice are the stories, the narratives in which connect the individual to the people, places, ideas, and events outside of their immediate purview. This is how conservatives are able to convince their followers that fascism and freedom are synonymous, as long as the Right People are in the in-group. This is also why progressives and lefties are so much less successful at spinning inclusive narratives, as (a) progressives are much more grounded in facts and the real world than are conservatives, and (b) the 15% or so of the USA who are actually left-of-center tend to fail each others’ purity tests when it comes to the work of gathering a community.

To clear my head of modern stresses, I picked up Between Clay and Dust, a novel by Pakistani author Musharraf Ali Farooqi, which arrived at the house back in February of 2016 as part of my (now lapsed) subscription to Restless Books. I finished the book in three days, and it was beautiful. I rated it five stars, and recommend it unreservedly.

As stated above, I am now reading Kameron Hurley’s Future Artifacts.

In writing news, I haven’t done much lately. Too many other things taking up space in my head. I do plan to finish transcribing my National Poetry Month poems over the next couple of weeks.

The Bottom of the Top #21

John Winkelman

The end of May seems to be a locus for love ballads and smooth jams. It also, for the years represented here, was a week of transition from school to summer break. Even into 1997, when I had been out of school for a few years, that pattern followed. I spent 18 years (and one semester in Russia in 1994) being educated, and as they were my formative years, there is an emotional resonance with the end of a school year which will likely carry through for the rest of my life. It is not as strong an emotional tie as that which makes itself felt in late August/early September. But even into my fifties I feel a specific nostalgia as Memorial Day approaches.

1977: Barbara Streisand, “My Heart Belongs to Me”

I couldn’t say when I first heard “My Heart Belongs to Me.” I definitely did at some point, if only be the logic that popular music in 1977 was a small pool, particularly in rural Michigan, with parents who weren’t into anything harder than Manhattan Transfer. I’ve never had any particular opinions about Streisand one way or another, so if this song is familiar, it is only through osmosis. Then again, I would have been seven years old, just shy of my eighth birthday and near the end of second grade when this song was released.

1982: Dionne Warwick and Johnny Mathis, “Friends in Love”

I have certainly heard “Friends in Love” at some point in the past. Warwick and Matthis have beautiful voices and they work well together. This week in 1982 I was near the end of seventh grade, probably looking forward to a summer of milking cows and stacking bales, and maybe a quick trip to visit my dad, wherever he was living that summer. I would have been preparing for the Memorial Day Parade when the junior high band was conscripted to play with the high school band at the Springport VFW hall, to the indifference of the adults and the jeers of our classmates. So no particular nostalgia attached to this one, but it is a beautiful song and I appreciate it more now at 52 that I did when I was 12.

1987: Restless Heart, “I’ll Still Be Loving You”

I do vaguely remember “I’ll still be loving you,” and almost certainly heard it when it was on the charts. Restless Heart is a country band and so I likely heard it played on one of the several country stations which were more prevalent in the 1980s in rural Michigan. The MTV/cable era diminished the size of the slice of the pie which country music enjoyed, but it so greatly expanded the size of the pie that that rising tide lifted every music genre, including country, and made the birth of alt-country possible a few years later. Regardless, this is a fine song, though it doesn’t speak to me, one way or another. I would have been prepping for graduation in this week in 1987, so likely wasn’t paying attention to what was on the radio.

1992: Jon Secada, “Just Another Day”

The end of my fifth year of college I was moving out of off-campus housing at GVSU and into my first “adult” apartment in Kentwood with three friends, and just starting my brief career at West Michigan’s favorite Polish-Mexican restaurant, while prepping for my capstone classes. Which is to say, it was an exciting time, and busy, and though I have heard “Just Another Day” I don’t know if I heard it when it charted, or at some point in the future. I like the song, and Secada has a fine voice, though it doesn’t really stand out from the myriad similar songs which were released in the early 1990s.

1997: Heavy D, “Big Daddy”

I remember seeing this video on MTV more than once, though that could have been years after the song was released. I would have been working at the bookstore with nothing of note happening in my life, likely in a groove of working, working out, partying, and listening to folk, folk rock, and Tom Waits. I like this song, though and it looks like everyone in the video is having fun. Heavy D died in 2011 of a pulmonary embolism. He was born two years before me, and I remember hearing of his death and realizing that people who were my age are dying of the kind of things I used to associate with “old people.” And that was over a decade ago. So it goes.

Wow, This Month is Going By Quickly

John Winkelman

Sunrise over Huff Park, May 15, 2022

I looked up a couple of days ago, and June was closer than April. As the saying goes, the days are long but the years are short. The months are pretty short too, now that the weather has turned and people are going outside again. The change from weeks of Nothing Happening to weeks of Everything Happening occurred so quickly that I feel a sort of emotional or psychic backlash; the abruptness of the switch to something vaguely resembling the “normal” of the Before Times has put me in a vague state of panic and agoraphobia. Too much peopling too quickly.

No new books arrived this week, so the photo for the post is one I took on the morning of May 15 at Huff Park in Grand Rapids.

In reading news, as I have for the past six weeks or so, I am still working through my backlog of Poetry Magazine. I am caught up through the beginning of 2021, which means I am only a little over a year behind schedule.

I finished Benedict Anderson‘s Imagined Communities. Highly recommended. Reading about the instantiation and reinforcement of nationalisms of the past, I can more clearly see the various and myriad ways in which the conservative ideologues of America maintain and increase the nationalistic, imperialistic fervor of the idea of the United States.

With the Anderson complete, I have just picked up Stephen Duncombe‘s Dream or Nightmare, in which he discusses the rational, fact-based approach (e.g. progressive, liberal, productive) to politics in relation to the narrative based approach (in this case, nationalistic, revanchist, nihilistic) practiced by conservatives, and why the narrative-based approach is so much more effective when it comes to politics, where reality and facts have never really been effective tools. Though I had not intended it this way, the Duncombe does seem to be a good follow-up to the Anderson.

In writing news, I haven’t done much, though I am assembling a few poems for an open mic night coming up in a few days. This will be my first time reading in public in at least four years, and possibly closer to five. Yes, I’m a little nervous.

The Bottom of the Top #20

John Winkelman

As I progress through the years listening to all of these songs from the late 1970s through the late 1990s, I realize that, for the songs I have heard, some of the nostalgia and deja vu is offset, as for a lot of these entries I didn’t hear them until years (or decades) after they charted. But since each song is also a product of its time, there are multiple levels of temporal disconnect here. The songs are of one era, but I might have heard them decades later, and I am reviewing them now. So the various timelines of my memory and limbic system have become…entangled. So it goes in the age of instant everything, when the time is always “now.”

1977: Marilyn McCoo and Billy Davis, Jr., “Your Love”

I don’t think I had heard this one before researching the songs for this week. I had heard of McCoo before, both in her capacity as the host of Solid Gold back in the 1980s, and of a member of The Fifth Dimension, which is, I think, the only place I had heard of Davis before now.

1982: Eddie Rabbitt, “I Don’t Know Where to Start”

This is a beautiful song in the vein of 1970s folk ballads, with maybe a little country mixed in. I have not heard this one before. But in style and tone it triggers a nostalgic shadow of pre-high school times, which is appropriate.

1987: Donna Allen, “Serious”

This is a very 80s song and associated video. As with the previous two on this list, I *might* have heard it, assuming we turned on the radio in the milking parlor in time to catch the first few songs in the countdown. It’s decent enough, but doesn’t really stand out from other songs like it, though the mid-song rap break is well done.

1992: Shanice featuring Johnny Gill, “Silent Prayer”

I *might* have heard “Silent Prayer” back in the day. Shanice and Gill have beautiful voices, and they work well together, but I didn’t feel much of a sense of recognition.

1997: Montel Jordan, “What’s On Tonight”

This is a beautiful slow-jam, but while I have heard of Montel Jordan (of course!) I can’t say for certain that I have heard “What’s On Tonight.”

It’s Hot Out

John Winkelman

Books which arrived in the week of May 8, 2022

This past week the air temperature in Grand Rapids hit 90° Fahrenheit more than once. And it’s only just the middle of May. Given the patterns of recent years I expect we will hit triple digits more than once before autumn rolls in. One of the side effects of this sudden summer weather has been uncomfortably warm nights and therefore little in the way of quality sleep.

One new book arrived in the past week – the hardcover edition of the Girl Genius Sourcebook and Roleplaying Game, published by Steve Jackson Games of GURPS fame, and based on the Girl Genius comic created by Kaja and Phil Foglio. This came from a Kickstarter campaign I helped fund back in October 2021. So, given the past couple of years, the fact that the book came in on schedule is impressive. The thing itself is great; deftly written and chock-full of interesting and beautiful illustrations.

In reading news, as was reported last week, I am still working my way through back issues of Poetry Magazine, as well as Benedict Anderson’s Imagined Communities. And I am still enjoying both.

I haven’t done much writing in the past week, mostly due to my brain being completely fried. Maybe next week. Or the week after that.

The Bottom of the Top #19

John Winkelman

As we move into the middle of May the songs are freighted with the nostalgic sense that, now that the world has awakened, it’s time to get busy. Not that the songs are specifically about that, but these are what the world was listening to, more or less.

This project has prompted me to put together a timeline of where I have lived, gone to school, worked, and the people and events associated with each. Nostalgia mining, as Proust demonstrated, can be a great source of creative inspiration. And also ennui and existential dread.

1977: John Miles, “Slowdown”

This is another of those songs which, even if you have never heard it, you have heard it in some form or another. I can’t say if I heard it when it was first on the radio, but I know I heard it at some point in the years before I graduated from high school. And it kind of slaps.

Mr. Miles passed away this past December, at the age of 72.

1982: Genesis, “Man on the Corner”

Phil Collins and this era of Genesis were huge in my life back in the 1980s. I first heard of them at about the same time that music videos took over the pop world thanks to the original iteration of MTV. Abacab is an amazing album and “Man on the Corner” is a very specific vibe (in the parlance of our times) for a skinny, mouthy, geeky bookworm recently moved to an isolated farm in a small, insulated and insular farming community. Self-pity is not a great place to wallow, but it can bring its own form of empowerment.

1987: Peter Wolf, “Come as you Are”

I remember listening to this song on the bus into school at the end of my senior year at Springport, but I don’t think I had ever seen the video until now. Peter Wolf, formerly of the J. Geils Band, puts together a fantastic song, and a super-fun video. I imagine he had to sit down for a few days once the video was complete.

1992: Cause & Effect, “You Think You Know Her”

I don’t specifically remember hearing this song before, but it is familiar enough that I must have, though it does have that particular Synthpop sound which can cause some confusion when trying to sort out memories from (o god…) thirty years ago. This week in 1992 I would have been moving from a tiny apartment at Campus West to a HUGE apartment at Ramblewood, anticipating and dreading my last (and sixth) year of university studies, and I think just starting my brief career as a line cook and prep cook at Jose Babushka’s Polish/Mexican restaurant in Kentwood. Such were the early nineties.

1997: Kenny Lattimore, “For You”

This is a repeat from last week. Lattimore has a beautiful voice, and this is a beautiful song.

 

A Little Warmth in the Air

John Winkelman

Arrivals for the week of May 1, 2022

There have been a couple of warm days recently, but in this upcoming week daytime temperatures are expected to be in the mid-80s every day, which is quite wonderful for the beginning of May, particularly when considering the exceptionally long and dreary April we just endured here in West Michigan.

The past week has been full of poetry-related events.

In the evening of this past Monday, May 2, I ventured to Douglas, Michigan to attend “Let’s Take Another Look at Poetry,” a workshop held by Jack Ridl, who I have not seen in person since early 2019, I think. He and his wife Julie have been friends of mine for many years, and I had the great good fortune of being invited to attend their regular Sunday morning open studio back in the Before Times. Jack and Julie’s advice was invaluable for me as we worked out the kinks of Caffeinated Press and The 3288 Review. And I loved hearing Jack read his own work, an opportunity I have not had since the launch of his most recent book Saint Peter and the Goldfinch, back in early 2019. So, three very long years.

Yesterday, May 7, I attended the “Schuler Mecca” interview for the Oral History of Poetry in Grand Rapids project organized by local poet Christine Stephens-Krieger. She interview included several former Schuler Books employees who were involved in the poetry scene (such as it was) in Grand Rapids in the 1980s and 1990s. We discussed the role of our local independent bookstore in promoting poetry to the West Michigan community, as well as the many national poets who held readings and signings at the store, and how being in that space in that time with that group of people had influenced our own poetry practice.

This was the second time I was interviewed for the project, the first being a month ago about my experience as a publisher of local poets and poetry as part of Caffeinated Press.

Three new books have arrived here at the Library of Winkelman Abbey.

First up is the May issue of Poetry Magazine. I am quickly catching up to present in my read-through of back issues, and will likely catch up to my subscription in the middle of summer. At that point I will need to consider if I want to keep my subscription. Right now I’m leaning toward “yes.”

Next is Dragon, the new graphic novel by Saladin Ahmed and Dave Acosta, from their successful Kickstarter. I have only skimmed it so far, but the writing and artwork is gorgeous, as would be expected from such talented people.

And on the right is the final, completed version of Illyrian Fugue, written over the past 16 years by my dear friend Scott Krieger. I had the honor of reading an earlier draft back in 2019, so I am eagerly looking forward to reading the final release.

In reading news, in addition to the issues of Poetry Magazine, I am reading Benedict Anderson‘s exemplary book Imagined Communities, an examination of the phenomenon of nationalism.

IWSG, May 2022

John Winkelman

Hello, writing community! Welcome to May, which seemed to appear out of nowhere. Then again, the first two days of May have been overcast, rainy and cold, so it’s like April never left. Or March, for that matter. Then again, the COVID pandemic is still kind of hanging in there, which means today (Wednesday, IWSG day) is March 794, 2020.

Anyway.

The Insecure Writer’s Support Group question for May 2022 is:

It’s the best of times; it’s the worst of times. What are your writer highs (the good times)? And what are your writer lows (the crappy times)?

My writer highs come from being in the zone, or in the flow, as described by Mihály Csíkszentmihályi. There are moments in the mornings when I can knock two concepts against each other in my head and from the interaction and intersection of these agents I can pull a page or so of short story, or a new scene for a novel, or the seed of a poem. These moments never seem to be predictable, but they always seem to happen within the first few minutes of a writing session. Which is to say, if I make it more than a few minutes into a writing session, that is the time when I am most likely to achieve the flow state and in that moment I am no longer writing, I am transcribing. I feel like I am in harmony with the world and the words are writing themselves.

The lows are the mornings when I am sleep deprived and still burned out from the day before, and my pen seems too heavy to hold, and someone broke into my house and rearranged all of the keys on my laptop. Or so it seems while in the grip of the ennui which is so easy to fall into and so difficult to pull myself out of. I’m feeling a touch of it right now, coming after a month full of reading and writing poetry, and attending poetry events and talking to poets. I should feel great, but instead I feel friction. I want to write, but I don’t want to write. And petulance looks silly on someone in their mid-fifties.

So the only thing to do is endure the down-times and have faith that the good times will appear again, hopefully soon, and I will be able to get back into the zone.

 

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