While watching ink dry on the contract for my third collection of poems, I realized how much life fits into these pages. It feels much longer than it’s been since my last offering.
I’m grateful to my publisher, @tara_caribou, for her continued support, guidance, and honesty. There’s no better feeling than knowing those you collaborate with want what’s best for you and your work.
I’m also grateful to those of you who continue to support my endeavors. Your kind words, encouragement, and inspiration are a gift.
There’s much work to be done, but this feels like a moment worth remembering.
I wanted to take a moment to talk about this book as I haven’t nearly enough. As I wrote the poems that would become Real Big American Zen, I knew the book would be a tough sell. The idea for the cover featuring my masked face would rub some the wrong way; the title would cause some to assume (wrongly) that the writing would lean to one side of the political aisle or the other, and it would stand as a reminder of a year that most of us would rather forget.
I also felt in my bones that it would be, in some way, disingenuous for me to try and steer the work in a different direction; This was the world I was inhabiting; these were the decisions my family and I faced; this was the feeling of my country and the world teetering on the edge of the unknown and unthinkable.
Fast forward to May of this year, my publisher and I are putting the final product together; we’ve managed to incorporate some of my artwork and photography into the book, and though I’m thrilled with our work, I’d come to realize that significant change was needed in my personal life.
In the two years since my father had passed, I hadn’t been treating myself very well. My mental and physical health had gotten away from me, and I was relying heavily on alcohol to suppress the sadness and rage I felt inside. I knew that significant changes were needed, and there was no time to waste.
Now here we are in late September, and I’m proud to say that I feel I’ve regained some control. I feel happier and healthier than I have in years, and though I’m still learning how to steer my creativity with a clear mind, I know the next chapter will be an exciting one.
One of the casualties of these changes was the promotional efforts for Real Big American Zen. I’m going to attempt righting the ship and shining whatever light I can on this collection of poetry, of which I’m still so proud. In the coming days and weeks, I’ll be sharing pieces from the book, perhaps some readings, as well as my Recent Abstractions series.
If you haven’t purchased a copy, I hope you’ll consider doing so. If you’ve bought and read the book, I hope you’ll consider leaving reviews at Amazon and Goodreads or anywhere else you like.
It’s been a month since the release of Real Big American Zen, and I’ve done a terrible job of staying in touch as life and work have conspired to keep us apart.
The truth is my indecision in how to best spread the word about the book has left me at a stand-still, and some life changes have taken the rest of my mental energy. Whatever I have left at the end of the day belongs to these two future leaders of the world, and that’s non-negotiable.
I’ve managed to jot down a few new pieces in the last couple of weeks, and the third collection continues to progress. I’m hopeful that life will soon slow down enough that my spirit can catch up with the rest of me, and the path forward will reveal itself.
I miss hearing from you. I hope wherever you are; you’re happy, healthy, and hopeful.
If you’ve finished the new collection, please consider leaving an Amazon or Goodreads review (or both if feeling generous) as it’s a big help.
Love,
Brandon
Brandon’s latest poetry collection, Real Big American Zen, is available now! Click the cover to purchase your copy today!
It’s 10:10 pm as I begin to write this. It was a busy day, my usual responsibilities dragging me away from the page, the words, the work I prefer.
The day was as I expected – heavy.
Today marks three years since the passing of Anthony Bourdain, who I (like so many) considered a personal hero. The day still reverberates from the quaking of so many diaphragms, bodies physically rejecting the shocking and painful news that a man of such an enviable life had decided he’d had enough.
Anthony was a rebel chef, a silver-tongued bad boy with a checkered past that spent years living on the fringe before slowing down long enough to show the rest of us what an amazing world we inhabit and just how little there is that separates us all. A recovering addict, a father, and a true citizen of the world.
I’m not sure what I’m trying to say here. Perhaps I just wanted to say something to mark the day. Maybe that’s enough? The idea that a person I never met had such a profound impact on me by doing nothing more than sharing their spirit in the name of bringing us closer together.
Brandon White 