“In Praise of the Lowly Chapbook,” by Bryce Milligan.
Let’s hope.
A little while ago, I published five little poems here, drawn from the text of a Cessna Manual of Flight. Yesterday, I put them together into a little chapbook called “Lift and Drag,” which you can read or download or remix for free. Find them here:
If you enjoy them, you can read more about them on my long-form blog, where you can also donate if you like. Thanks for your time.
“ The sign of the amateur is overglorification of and preoccupation with the mystery. The professional shuts up. She doesn’t talk about it. She does her work. ”
The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. My business partner recommends this book highly, but I’m still on the fence about it’s self-helpy qualities.
“But those who had good reason, legitimate or illicit, to venture outdoors “during the night season” nonetheless developed a whole range of tricks to help them. […] People knew their neighbourhoods intimately: every tree, every hedge, every post. On the Downs, great piles of chalky soil, known as “down lanterns”, served as beacons. Bark would be cut from strategic trees to expose the lighter wood beneath. The senses of hearing (barking dogs), smell (a honeysuckle bush) and touch (a notch cut in a banister at a sharp turn in the stairs) became all the more important.”
“ Detail like this—that enters a character but refuses to explain that character—makes us the writer as well as the reader; we seem like co-creators of the character’s existence. ”
James Wood, How Fiction Works
“Why Britain Can’t Do The Wire” at Prospectmagazine.co.uk
