A Prairie Home Companion’s 50th Anniversary Tour comes to Akron, OH with Heather Masse, Christine DiGiallonardo, Rich Dworsky, Sue Scott, Fred Newman and Tim Russell.
A Prairie Home Companion’s 50th Anniversary Tour comes to Scranton, PA with Heather Masse, Christine DiGiallonardo, Rich Dworsky, Sue Scott, Fred Newman and Tim Russell.
Keillor & Company with Prudence Johnson, Dan Chouinard and Dean Magraw bring their show to Spokane, WA for a performance of classic love songs, poetry, The News from Lake Wobegon, and a conversation about Why You Should Go On Getting Older
A Prairie Home Companion’s 50th Anniversary Tour comes to the Grand 1894 Opera House in Galveston, TX with our favorite regulars, Rich Dworsky, Sue Scott, Tim Russell and Fred Newman. Additional guests to be announced.
New Philadelphia, OH
Garrison Keillor brings his solo show to Kent State University. Poetry, Limericks, Sing-Along and the News from Lake Wobegon.
Self-Portrait with Wife
by Jonathan Potter
we stand together
before the stark shimmering
gliding mirrored doors
our bedroom closet
lurks behind, the hardwood floor
beneath our feet, mine
bare, yours with black socks,
our bed of bliss stretched out there
behind us, covered
by a flower print
comforter that’s sometimes thrown
aside in hot fits,
the laundry basket
empty and waiting for the
next load of colors,
my arm wrapped round you
with my wristwatch on fingers
clutching your shoulder,
your nose obscured by
a smudge where skin perhaps has
nuzzled the mirror,
the dresser, the lamp,
your son’s painting, the winter
scene, the jewelry box,
the almost hidden
books, and, over to the side,
my socks black like yours
Jonathan Potter, “Self-Portrait with Wife” from the forthcoming collection, Tulips for Elsie published by Korrektiv Press 2021. © Jonathan Potter. Used with permission.
It’s the birthday of the poet Howard Moss (books by this author) born in New York City (1922). A quiet, unassuming man, he served as poetry editor of The New Yorker magazine for almost four decades. When he was asked his definition of a good poem, Howard Moss said, “One I like.”
It’s the birthday of the philosopher, essayist, and statesman Francis Bacon, (books by this author) born in London (1561). His main contribution to philosophy was his application of the inductive method of modern science. He supported full investigation and rejected any rational theories based upon incomplete or insufficient data. Francis Bacon said, “Prosperity is not without many fears and distastes; and adversity is not without comforts and hopes.”
It’s the birthday of the Romantic poet Lord Byron, (book by this author) born George Gordon Noel in London, England (1788). After college, he went off to travel in the eastern Mediterranean and kept a diary of his adventures there. He turned it into a book-length poem, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. It was published between 1812 and 1818, and it made Byron one of the most popular poets of his time.
Byron wrote many more books of poetry, including Don Juan (1819). He lived a life of controversy and excess, so when he died at age 36, his friend burned Byron’s unpublished memoirs before he had even been buried.
She always wanted to be a writer. And starting in the fourth grade she started writing stories about young girls who like animals. One of those stories, “The Foaling Season,” was published in The Atlantic Monthly, and it won the National Magazine Award for Fiction. “The Foaling Season” became the first chapter of her first novel, The God of Animals (2007). Four days after she finished the draft, the novel sold. When it was published, critics called her one of the best young novelists in America.
She’s not a daily writer or a rigidly disciplined one. In fact, she said, “I tend to have two speeds when it comes to writing: All The Time; and Not At All.” She said:
“Months pass in which I don’t work at all. But when I am writing, that’s all I do. I hardly sleep, hardly eat, hardly have any contact with the outside world. I stop answering my phone, I don’t respond to emails, I forget to pay my bills. This is neither terribly healthy nor terribly good for my social life, but I try to remind myself that Emily Dickinson lived in an attic, which makes me feel well adjusted by comparison.”
She said that as she gets older, she trusts this process more. “I can only loaf around for so long before I start to feel pent-up and anxious, before I feel a skittish energy begin to build inside of me, and then I know it’s time to get back to work.”
She loves the thrill of beginning a new story and she loves the glory of finishing a first draft. But all of that time writing in between can be difficult and discouraging, she said, like “digging through concrete with a salad fork” or being “adrift in threads that don’t tie together and arcs that go nowhere.” At that point, she says, there’s nothing to do but “clench your jaw and power through.”
“Finishing a story is truly the most amazing experience in the world. … It’s like being on the most fantastic, perfect drugs. I feel like I can fly. Literally. Everything I’ve ever written has been finished around 3:00 in the morning — probably because I write at night — and when I’m done, I’m filled with so much adrenaline, I can hardly contain myself. I want to go running or dancing or find a trampoline.”
Her most recent book, is a short-story collection called Boys and Girls Like You and Me (2010). In it, she writes:
“She wasn’t bored, not exactly. There were a lot of things she liked about Mark. His jawline smelled like crayons and freshly cut grass. His hands were always clean. At night, he curled his body around her in bed, one arm beneath her neck, the other looped across her waist. She would press herself into the warm weight of him and feel his breath, damp and hot on her throat. And in that foggy place between sleep and waking, he could have been anyone. That was what she liked most about him: In the darkness, he became whomever she wanted.”
Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.®