Whew, Glad Its Over and done. Hey, Publisher's, Agents, Small Next time it could be slightly
and Large Presses.
different.
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by Joe B. Sunday, Feb. 23, 2003 is the last hectic day. Earlier Ms. M. called about rehearsal of the play which I still say is a skit but don’t tell Lisa that since she made it up and constantly complex it up with help from other ‘PO poets. Its not participating in the play that’s the problem its adding extras like words, props, and not letting the basic thing be what it is. This is why I didn’t have my script with me I had been practicing for two weeks then stopped because I see more directions, props, changes, more tweaking of the script until one page becomes five. I’ve learned to reduce my work to its essence so I don’t have to work any harder than needed and I always warn new POOR Magazine Interns, ‘PO Poet’s to start reducing work because if you write a six or seven page short story; guess who’ll be reading it or sharing with others and don’t share too much personal stuff because its all "grist for the mill" in POOR’s way of working. Few people listen and then when they come up with 4 to 8 pages and begin to read the poor snooks look at me sideways finally getting it but too late so I’ve learn to warn once then keep my mouth shut. Again, Sunday I planned to sleep because I know tonight will be full of drama, nervousness, angst, and feeling of "What Can Go Wrong Will Go Wrong" I help Lisa again but not as much this time because most of the butcher paper, drawings and lighting are already set and I race back home to sleep. Calling Ms. M. at 2:30 pm I said I’d be there by 3 and we’d be at the old 9th street I.L.W.U.(International Local Warehouse Union) local 6. After taking a shower I leave later and when I get to Ms. M’s home she’s just finished taking a shower, hair, face wet. Letting me in while she stays in her bathroom emerging only when her white bathrobe is tight and secure on her. "I race over here thinking you’d be mad at me for being late but your not dressed." "I’m mad at you Joe, really mad just plain mad she joked as I wait in another area while she changes into her clothes. By 3:35 we both know we’ll be late and using her cell phone Ms. M. calls Lisa and of course she pissed "Where are you Joe?" "We’ll be a little late, be there at 4:30." I wasn’t going to argue while walking down the street on a cell phone. "We’re going be there by 4:30, We’re On Our Way Now, we will be late. "Lisa’s began getting loud but stopped going off the phone." "Joe, you don’t talk to Lisa that way" M. says. At when thinking of the late night Tuesdays when I had to double back after work and continue to work beside on the book because I wanted to get published too. Then realizing what I’m writing is totally different what everyone is writing had nothing to do with the main theme of Diaspora, housing, but had to with life extension, android/flesh women, other worlds and sexually graphic material that I’m constantly told won’t do for POOR’s Publication so I save it somewhere else because I’m ‘thinkin really "S" Graphic Novel for another publication. The book was done at least text wise but added to it is graphics and it nearly made me let the book go because there is more and more extra junk to do. Later I found out people have to see pretty pictures then look at the text. I concede but under duress. Now the "being late thing I guess I wasn’t ‘feelin the book release party all that well even though I Lisa, Connie Lu, Willie, our ‘tech guy is working to wire the place for the stage and projector for Dee’s "Hands & Lester" ‘PO Cat’s speak back books. Dee, Mother of Lisa, Co Owner of POOR Magazine’s likes cat’s better than pigeons as do I. Its another concept but I won’t place my character’s to be constantly on the losing end because she’s my boss, editor and like cats more than pigeons. I’ll have them recreated somewhere else where they can develop and shine in their own books. I call my mother before meeting Ms. M. and she’ll be in if possible my brother and his wife had to go back to Chicago or somewhere else. It’s a world wind kind of event with an author’s panel talking, reading from and about their works, Dee’s Cat story, vegetarian, meat, ice cream, soda’s a "The ‘Houzin Project Play" and upstairs live reading of stories by authors of the work. And lots of mingling, selling of books, and afterwards I leave with my mother because I know the clean up will take all night and I’ve done that twice but not this night as me and mama head for bart and parts unknown. On the same train our tech guy Willie and fellow author, poet, and D A M O As soon as I’m in my mother’s, we talked, I cooked some eggs and tomatoes together for a late dinner, kissed mama good night going to that comfortable backroom foldable bed and instantly fell into a comfortable deep restful sleep. Please send donations to For Joe only my snail mail: Email: askjoe@poormagazine.org |