Whale Day by Billy Collins

Death runs like a thread through these poems, weaving in and out, never subtle, rather, “death is the magnetic north of poetry” here. ➕ The fourth section hit me hardest, because “The Ghost in You” by the Psychedelic Furs began to play, and the first poem is one I know well, only here Collins made the smallest changes, so it was like finding myself in a dream in a room I know I know but cannot place. ➕ The Furs sing, “Angels fall like rain/And love is all of heaven away,” and everything collides: the new year, and whatever comes next and next.

The Future Looks Like Anna

I got a fascinating email today; it was from a librarian who runs a teen writing workshop, and they had used some resources from my website. One of the young writers– Anna– wants to write for film or theatre, and she noticed I didn’t have resources about script/screenwriting and wanted to share a link. You can read it here.

I love that Anna noticed a gap in my resources, found her own, and then paid it forward by sharing it with me. I’m always amazed by the kindness of others.

Light is coming, friends. Metaphorically: we are starting to see the end of this insane season we’ve been in; the tunnel has an end. Literally: after December 21st, the days start getting longer. And futuristically: Anna, her friends, and other young people will be writing the stories.

Thresholds

Courage, dear heart

Blessed Work

The Old Blinders

The Arena

Amen & Just After

Closer