Neko Case is accompanying the final microscopic edits for Issue 15: Where We Are. It
has been a long time since we've printed but we're still here and on
our way. On we go. If you come back early next week, we'll have some
previews of this next issue.
This week as I was flipping through the Banff Calgary Wordfest
program, I remembered my very first reading. I was about five and my
oldest brother had just taught me to read despite repeated problems
with the word "something" - so long and full of mysterious sounds and
shapes.
I was one of the first to read in my kindergarten class
(I know, I know - all you four-year-old readers - I was slow.) and my
teacher asked me to share something from My Little Green Story Book.
I was small for my age but my parents were convinced that I would grow
into things so I was often in bigger jackets and shoes. This wasn't
really a problem at age 5. Bigger clothes ususally didn't interfere
with my choice of favorite mismatched shirt, polyester pants, and
cotton sneakers. I did start becoming concerned in junior high when I
actually stopped growing and kept floating around in overly large down
winter jackets until my parents' "You'll grow into it" motto died along
with my hopes for college basketball.
But somewhere between
rising and my first reading, I lost my "You'll grow into it" shoe. It
flopped off my foot and rather than let go of My Little Green Story Book, I
hop stepped to the front of the class, opened my book and read, one
foot on solid ground, one white-leotard clad batch of toes tipped down
to make up the difference in height.
Mother said, "Stop here, Father.
I see something here.
I see something for dinner."
Tom said, "I see something.
Can I stop here?
I can get something here."
I remembered this as I was looking at all the authors, poets, and performers on the Wordfest schedule.
One piece of work is barely finished and another is expected to come
out. And all of us want to appear polished and in control of our
creations, even as one shoe flops off of our feet and into the aisle.
That's how I picture most readers and presenters at these kind of
things. One shoe on and one shoe off but ready to say, "I see
something."