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So glad you have signed up to receive the For Random Learning Comes Newsletter! This is the one hundred and fourteenth edition.
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This will be a short newsletter, since all of my writing juices have been expended in the essay which leads the lineup today. My one and only piece of new writing, in a week when I was more hostess than poetess, is the essay One More.
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I waited until I felt like writing and of course, current events rushed into the vacuum. They inspired me to write yet another harangue on gun violence and our country's love/hate relationship with it. In case you haven't read my previous pieces or want a refresher, I list them within the new essay, with links.
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I hope you enjoy this late posting of One More.
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My last two weeks have been mostly spent cleaning the house, the utter boredom of which I needn't relate in detail. I did get to go see some poets read at Happy Medium Books, and a few people visited afterwards, which was a lot of fun.
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I also had the opportunity to enjoy a lovely violin and piano concert. It made me think about the meaning of the word virtuoso. Certainly, in the music realm, it is very, very apparent, when you excel at what you do and have clearly put the work in. When I commented on the high quality of the performance, the violinist modestly said, "We try." I found that comforting, somehow. Trying is, after all, the thing that makes most people better. Perhaps a blogpost will come of that, one day.
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This past weekend, I went to an FWA meeting locally and got to hear Tim Gilmore speak. I am a big fan of his blog JaxPsychoGeo and have read a few of his books. I find his take on local history very enriching. Afterwards, I had lunch with a friend.
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Other than that, there's nothing new about my work which is floating, out there in the ether, searching for a home.
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My novel is at about the same place as it was before, roughly 50,000 words. I did polish the last few chapters a bit and printed a relatively clean copy of it, so far. Sadly, my Scrivener program was acting up and it kept cutting off the lower and upper edge of text so I had to move things to Word for safekeeping.
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My daughter stopped me in my tracks, as I outlined the story for her, with a simple inquiry about the motivation of one of my characters. I was dumbfounded to realize that I did not know the answer to that question. Wondering about this has stalled my progress a bit. But my fellow novel-writer friend told me, "Don't worry. He'll tell you."
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No new poetry at the moment. Strangely, the debate, since it seemed like such a wipeout, did not inspire me. The new assassination attempt, however, was shocking enough to prompt me to write the essay. Sometimes, I wish people would just stop.
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If you know of anyone else who might be interested in receiving this newsletter, please forward it and send them to my website, linked in the logo above, to sign up!
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Stay safe, if you're in the path of any hurricanes or other rotten summer/fall weather. Till next time!
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So Close and Yet So Far
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This essay discusses the Semiquincentennial celebration and compares it with Fourths of Years gone by.
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Drawing
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A poem on redistricting, the drawing of new districts to serve the ruling party's political purposes, with the blessing of the Supreme Court and with enthusiasm unchecked by either the people's will nor the State's Constitutional provisions.
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Attempt
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A poem describing the swirling emotions on and offline provoked by the attempted assassination of President Trump at the dinner for the press. Caveat: I do not doubt the attempt on his life was real. P.S. The photo is an attempt at beauty.
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Approaching May 1st, 2026, Anniversary of The Great Fire, Jacksonville, FL
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A poem about a very dry spring in Florida which calls to mind the terrible fire which consumed Jacksonville early in the 20th century.
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Smiles
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This poem analyzes the loss of reputation of the US in the eyes of its closest allies, and the attitude it projects, about that loss.
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