Congrats on the NYT review and all of the other accolades you've received of late. And to think... you almost threw it all away to become the manager for Woody Woodchuck at the local professional wrestling venue... or was it for TEX-ASSSSSSSS... I'm drugged this morning, so I'm not thinking clearly.
Paul Guest is the author of four volumes of poetry and a memoir. His debut, The Resurrection of the Body and the Ruin of the World, was awarded the 2002 New Issues Poetry Prize. His second collection, Notes for My Body Double, was awarded the 2006 Prairie Schooner Book Prize. His third collection, My Index of Slightly Horrifying Knowledge, was published by Ecco Press/HarperCollins in 2008. His fourth collection, Because Everything Is Terrible, was published by Diode Editions. His poems have appeared in Harper's, The Paris Review, Poetry, Tin House, The Kenyon Review, and elsewhere. His memoir, One More Theory About Happiness, was published by Ecco in May 2010 and selected for the Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers Program. The recipient of a 2011 Guggenheim Fellowship and a 2007 Whiting Writers' Award, Guest lives in Charlottesville, Virginia.
10 comments:
Yet you seem to make it effortless to the rest of us. May you have a beautiful and creative new year. Many more blessings to you Paul.
Brent
I was swimming in the Caribbean...
abstaining from chocolate...
Sometimes words fail us.... and our mind goes complete blank.... Feelings remains unexpressed....
May be waiting for final outbrust................
Animals were hiding behind the rock...
Hard indeed. Word.
BTW, congrats on the NYT write-up! All the more impressive b/c newspapers, even the venerable ones, review poetry so infrequently. Awesome news!
"There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open up a vein." - Walter Smith.
And I'd like to add my congrats on the NYT review.
Congrats on the NYT review and all of the other accolades you've received of late. And to think... you almost threw it all away to become the manager for Woody Woodchuck at the local professional wrestling venue... or was it for TEX-ASSSSSSSS... I'm drugged this morning, so I'm not thinking clearly.
Your mind is on the Nightengale in the garden.
for real and for trues
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