Hey there. Summer is off to a slow start but gloomy June is sliding by. The news of the world is disheartening. Hope you’re finding some solace.
Not everything you learn on Twitter is bad. For instance I learned that Independent Author Day was May 26 for The Book Fairies USA who distributed free copies of Solace in So Many Words in Missoula, Montana and in Glendale, California.
You say you don’t know about The Book Fairies? The idea of The Book Fairies is simple. There are people who like to read, and to share the books they’ve read. They hide books around the world, every day, for people to find, read, and then leave for the next person. You can learn more about the Book Fairies here.
In news of my writing, I had a story “Now and at the hour” posted on Amethyst Review. It’s a story I wrote years ago and I am happy that it now has readers. Amethyst Review is a new publication for readers and writers who are interested in creative exploration of spirituality and the sacred.
Some Solace in So Many Words contributors have new books. Congrats to T. C. Boyle whose 17th novel Outside Looking In came out in April.
Congrats also to Arthur Powers—he has a new book of poems Sketches/Rio de Janeiro & Other Poems by Finishing Line.
I mentioned the news is dismal these days. I thought about a poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti “Pity the Nation.” It is not in the public domain so I can’t post it here. But you can read it on the City Light Books site. It is written in response to a verse written by Kahil Gibran in 1933 (from The Garden of the Prophet). It is in the public domain so I print it below.
I wish you peace, love, and solace.
Pity the nation that is full of beliefs and empty of religion.
Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave
and eats a bread it does not harvest.
Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero,
and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful.
Pity a nation that despises a passion in its dream,
yet submits in its awakening.
Pity the nation that raises not its voice
save when it walks in a funeral,
boasts not except among its ruins,
and will rebel not save when its neck is laid
between the sword and the block.
Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox,
whose philosopher is a juggler,
and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking
Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpeting,
and farewells him with hooting,
only to welcome another with trumpeting again.
Pity the nation whose sages are dumb with years
and whose strongmen are yet in the cradle.
Pity the nation divided into fragments,
each fragment deeming itself a nation.”
― Kahlil Gibran, The Garden of The Prophet