Thursday, August 09, 2007
Poetry Dreams, Ugh
So last night I dreamed I got a phone call from Eleanor Wilner telling me she had picked my first book for publication. I asked her for what prize or press, and she mumbled the answer so I couldn't understand it. I nonetheless decided I knew which press she was talking about.
I don't know Eleanor Wilner at all, and my only distant connection to her is that one of my bestest friends was a student of hers. Interestingly, she's on the Board of Directors for the press I decided she was talking about. Amusingly, that press only publishes books of poetry by women, not something I was cognizant of in the dream. I don't even know why that particular press got in my head at all. Or Eleanor Wilner, for that matter.
I much preferred the one I had a while back where an acquaintance of mine was an intrepid reporter investigating some kind of wrongdoing in the mountain forest around my grandparents' cabin in Colorado, and I was basically just hanging out and helping. That was fun.
I don't know Eleanor Wilner at all, and my only distant connection to her is that one of my bestest friends was a student of hers. Interestingly, she's on the Board of Directors for the press I decided she was talking about. Amusingly, that press only publishes books of poetry by women, not something I was cognizant of in the dream. I don't even know why that particular press got in my head at all. Or Eleanor Wilner, for that matter.
I much preferred the one I had a while back where an acquaintance of mine was an intrepid reporter investigating some kind of wrongdoing in the mountain forest around my grandparents' cabin in Colorado, and I was basically just hanging out and helping. That was fun.
