This Week at No Tell

Jason Stumpf leads another through the cobbled street instructing this week at No Tell Motel.

A great deal of my June has been going through No Tell Motel submissions from the month of May. I only have 108 left to go.

If you're still waiting to hear from me, have mercy. This time I decided to read the submissions instead of basing my decision on how much I like you. Reading the submissions takes a lot longer but I'm told it's more ethical.

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On our way to the farmer's market on Saturday (which we missed because we were slow and lazy) Gideon and I happened upon a Metaphysical Fair. Of course I dragged him in to start the weirdofication process as early as possible. I love him so much I want him to live in my basement forever. He watched a lady dangle a metal object over my body to check my chakra. She said I was blocked. I corrected her. I'm not blocked, I'm clogged and my dreams make that very clear with the recurring motifs: overflowing lines, plugs and stopped up toilets (ew).

The healer hit a bunch of tuning forks together over my body and gave me some craniosacral therapy. She did the chakra check afterwards and now I'm clear and fixed for only $3. Fucking A! I'm dreaming of a flowing stream tonight.

Then I went to a palm reader. He saw my fears and smooth sailing from here on out. Exactly what I needed to hear. He said I should write mystery novels like Agatha Christie. He also said that I used to be my mother-in-laws' mother, Gideon was once my brother and Chris' cousin Helen is going to have a hearing problem and I should put some castor oil in her ear so watch out Helen. The reader also saw the following people in my life: John, Richard, Steve and Jacob. So dear John, Richard, Steve and Jacob, I'm looking forward to meeting you. Or maybe I already met you. Tough to say, I know like 50 of you fuckers.

The reading ended with this advice: WHATEVER YOU DO DON'T HAVE AN AFFAIR!

That's really good advice. I think I'm going to become a intuit reader and end every single reading with that advice. But you dear blog reader get it here first and for free as appreciation for your readership.

drafts

[snip]

But don't cry if you missed them, a very tasteful and classy editor already accepted one for publication -- and yes he knows it was on my blog, that's where he found it.

I love dealing with reasonable people.

One of those mornings when Gideon didn't want to do anything. Didn't want to get dressed. Didn't want to sit on the potty. Didn't want breakfast. Didn't want to kiss mommy. Didn't want to go to camp.

Finally I came up with something that he wanted to do.

Do you want to get locked in a box?

Yes, he most certainly wanted to get locked in a box. So I helped him get ready to be locked in a box. I helped him get dressed and served him breakfast so he could be locked in a box cause there's no food when you're locked in a box.

I drove him to speech camp, where they would lock him in a box if he asked to be locked in a box, but he had to be sure to ask.

Thank God he can't talk.

photo by Gideon Hart Morrow

Omigod, I'm setting my TiVo to fuck yeah!

Oh and all that hoopla over a notebook and I got it all wrong. It wasn't supposed to be a notebook, it was supposed to be a 3 ring binder. How do I manage? Sometimes I wonder.

Took Gideon to Target to select a notebook for Speech Camp (starts tomorrow!). Our first "school supply" shopping trip. I was pushing him towards the frog notebook, but he was quite adamant on getting a Keith Kimberlin kitten notebook. Grey and white long-haired kittens with violet eyes.

The heart knows what the heart wants, I guess.

Then we had an argument over which brand of pull-ups to buy. In case you don't know, pull-ups are glorified diapers that are supposed to bridge the gap between regular diapers and underpants. I mostly buy them because the largest regular diapers are becoming too small (Gideon's very tall, like his 6'8 daddy). He was in cloth diapers until 2 1/2 when he became too big for those. They say kids who wear cloth diapers potty train faster. That was not our experience. Anyhow, we were standing in the aisle arguing because I buy the cheaper Target pull-ups which have a perfectly good pirate on them. But Gideon wanted the Huggies brand with Go Diego Go. I told him I wasn't going designer for pooping. I got to draw the line somewhere, right? Also, Chris has some objection to Go Diego Go and I'd rather avoid that whole "Why the hell did you buy Go Diego Go diapers?" confrontation. Parenting is so political.

Gideon then argued for the Pampers brand so I distracted him while I tossed in the generic brand into the cart. For someone smart enough to understand the nuances of diaper branding, you'd think he'd be smart enough to realize the benefits of going in the pot.

But no, he doesn't so now I'm doing something I swore I'd never do. Bribery. Candy bribery. I call it "potty candy." Seriously. While cleaning out the pantry last month I found some bags of candy bought for my jewelry business long before Gideon was born. For real, yo. I'd include a couple pieces of wrapped candy with all orders. That was back when I gave a damn.

There wasn't an expiration date. I tried one, it tasted fine so I figured it was a sign from above and became the crone who gives old-fashioned candy covered in dust to children.

Well, they're not really dusty. The bags were unopened and my boy just loves potty candy.

Anyhow, also during our shopping trip we tried to find a house (plastic bin) for Gideon's numerous rubber duckies. But we couldn't agree on that either, so we agreed to look at another store this weekend.

What we did agree on today: Boxes of raisins and Amy's Organic Snack Crackers.

Yep, that's about it.

Part 2 of Delirious Hem's Gurlesque feature is now up.

This Week at No Tell

Boyer Rickel might tuck the photo of a secret love this week at No Tell Motel.

Cheryl's Gone

Oh Jeff Goldblum, You Timeless Beauty

drafts

[snip]

Ain't it Cool News reviews my cousin's online series, Captain Blasto.

This is Why I LIKE Being Obscure

and No Tell Books will always be micro. Cause I never want to be in a position where I can't speak my mind because of the "power of" anyone or anything.

Claire Alexander, a literary agent in London and former president of the British Association of Authors’ Agents, said authors were reluctant to speak out about the issue because of the “power of Amazon.”

Amazon is the world's biggest douche nozzle.

There, I said it.

Hear my micro roar!

Wow, a bunch of folks don't know about RSS feeds. Click here to read about RSS Feeds. Not knowing doesn't make you a dork or a dweeb, just incredibly old and out of touch. Oh I kid! Two popular RSS readers are Google Reader and Bloglines. There's others. I used to use the one built into the Safari browser, but once a month it would vomit all the old blog posts and suddenly I'd have 4000 "new" posts. Very annoying. Now I use Google Reader cause I'm a good corporate wife.

Most blogs have RSS feeds. A few don't. I secretly curse bloggers who don't have RSS feeds. Well, it's not a secret anymore, I guess. Why do they torment me so? What did I ever do to them? I have feelings, god damn it.

As for Facebook, I would discourage anyone who hasn't yet gone on from signing up. It's a thousand times worse than I imagined. People I never met are giving me massages and throwing things at me. Within 10 minutes of creating an account Nick Carbo bit and turned me into a zombie in his army. WTF? Last week I showed Chris my Green Patch and Sea Garden (sounds dirty, doesn't it?) and explained how I was saving the rainforest and ocean by sending people pretend plants and water creatures. He was very quiet and finally said "As long as you're having fun." That's when I realized I hit a new low. My husband will never look at me the same again.

Anyhoo, my incredibly loud friend Ivan (who I once threw to Nick to feed on) is coming over today. Ivan considers himself shy. Yeah, he's a regular Peter Tork. I already told Gideon he's allowed to shhh him. We're looking forward to it.

This Week at No Tell

Nicole Mauro jumped over the lazy dog—toward the unfixed meal this week at No Tell Motel.

Announcement from Scrambler Books

Our first title is a book of poetry called Rarer and More Wonderful by Bay Area resident Trevor Calvert. It is a full length 76 page poetry book, 6"x9" paperback and is priced at $14. You can order it online here: www.scramblerbooks.com.

My Thoughts on Other Online Presences

GoodReads - this is my favorite online networking site because it's about books. It has real utility in my life. I don't have to "know" somebody personally to become their "friend" but I do have a criteria: the person has to be rating contemporary poetry (or books on Jungian topics). Cause I'm there to discover new books. On a daily basis I decline "friendships" with promotion-nut authors with thousands of "friends" and no poetry books in their library. I block the lecherous men with no poetry books and hundreds of "friendships" with ladies with pretty profile pics.

MySpace - No Tell Books has a presence on there and I check it about once a month. If you're a real human being, I'll probably accept your "friend" request, but it might sit there for a while before I get to it. I'm over the age of 15 so I can't go there too often, else I'll have a seizure.

FaceBook - It's the place for people who aren't interesting enough to blog to have a shallow online presence. On the plus side, it has an elegant interface. I appreciate that. I held out for a long time, but recently joined. I accept the majority of friend requests. One can never have too many pretend friends.

Blogroll

These days, I rarely update my blogroll because I don't use it. I read blogs via an RSS Feed and never think about my blogroll. It's a low priority. I use my "free" time to answer No Tell submissions, layout magazine and book galleys, rate books on Goodreads, unsuccessfully potty train my son . . .

There's no hierarchy. Just disorganization.

Occasionally people e-mail and ask if I would add a link to their blog. I usually do.

So if you link (or have in the past) to this blog and I haven't returned the favor and you kinda feel like I should, just shoot me an e-mail and I'll happily add you.

Please don't think your blog's non-appearance on this blogroll to mean I think you're a dork or a dweeb. I mean, I might think you're a dork or a dweeb, but that's not a factor in my blogroll. My blogroll is full of dorks and dweebs. Look at it. I do not discriminate against dorks and dweebs. Some of my best friends are dorks and dweebs. In fact, I can't think of the last time I was in a room that wasn't teeming with dorks and dweebs. I'm a dork/dweeb magnet. All the dorks and dweebs wanna get with me.

Also, don't take it to mean that I think your poetry isn't worthy enough. The only poetry I find worth in is my own. Everyone else's is weird.

Episodes 1 & 2 of Captain Blasto are available to watch here. My cousin Christopher directs, edits and stars in it.

This Week at No Tell

Marcela Sulak found a perfect copy of the tree in miniature this week at No Tell Motel.

The One Thing Men's Wearhouse Got Right

From now until Monday afternoon, I am devoted to TB's wedding. Nothing else is on my radar.

Livingstons seem to die in June. I need to keep that in mind when planning trips, events and TB's next wedding.

Oh Tender Vittles, I kid, I kid.

I ain't having nothing to do with TB's next wedding.

TB and I are driving up to Pgh for our uncle's funeral today and will be back tomorrow to resume the wedding freak-out. TB is driving her wedding dress home as I type this -- after numerous alterations. That's one less thing to worry about, although they're making their own chuppah and I hear that's not going so smoothly.

I'll be disconnecting the laptop from my hip for the rest of this week, so don't expect any speedy deliveries. Mr. McFeely is on bedrest.

No Tell Books Reviewed in MiPO

somehow I missed these No Tell Books reviews in May's MiPOesias:

Cheryl Townsend reviews Laurel Snyder's The Myth of the Simple Machines:

Snyder’s poems are like dreams. They float all misty and just on the tip of a tongue. You’ll get them but you won’t be sure why.

Cheryl Townsend on Jill Alexander Essbaum's Harlot:

Harlot... What divine connotations just the sound of it evokes. Evoke - to call forth. And with a rapacious appetite for the illicit and sublime, Essbaum calls forth, “so adamant, so Jezebel” an estrus unyielding. An orgy of verse, glistening with “Covens/of bedroom men” and genital cannibalism. These poems ooze.

Cheryl Townsend on Hugh Behm-Steinberg's Shy Green Fields:

Hugh is a lusty fellow.

New Man at the Writer's Center!

I'm getting a new neighbor!

Poems at P.F.S. POST

I have poems up at P.F.S. POST in honor of TB's upcoming nuptials.

Ok, definitely not in honor of the nuptials, but read the poems anyhow.

And no tour bus for us today, we're heading home early. My uncle passed away.

It's 10 p.m. and I'm in a Brooklyn hotel telling a giggling Gideon to close his eyes so sleep can come. Well, that what I get for feeding him a slice of chocolate cake right before bed. It's going to be a long night.

Gideon rode his first train on Sunday.



We're tagging along with Chris who is attending this conference. Aside from the work, it's mostly a family trip, I'm not attending any readings or anything like that. This morning Chris took Gideon to the conference and let me sleep off my martinis with Ms. Essbaum from the night before (I said it was mostly a family trip).

The conference even made Gideon his own badge. Do you think AWP would do that? Sure, if I signed him up 2 months in advance and paid $200.



I got to see Jill's latest tattoos.

I do not approve.

If you're ever wondering whether or not you should get a tattoo, call me up and I'll talk you out it in my patented annoying mom-style. That's right, I'm taking an unpopular stand. Cause I'm somebody's mother and its my privilege to tell you what I think you should do with your life.

Tomorrow Gideon and I might take one of those double decker bus tours. If he ever falls asleep tonight.

This Week at No Tell

Jen Tynes glows on the right hand this week at No Tell Motel.