a lazy man's silaron year in review

2012 was the Year of the Interview here at silaron, as I posted interviews with Daniela Elza (The Weight of Dew), Daniel Zomparelli (Davie Street Translations), Sandy Shreve (Villanelles), Michael Lithgow (Waking in the Treehouse), Nora Gould (I see my love more clearly from a distance) and Mark Lavorato (Wayworn Wooden Floors). If I can up my output in 2013 by at least 7,000 interviews I might just be able to keep up with rob mclennan.

I got in on the action as well, with interviews with Wordworks, Vancouver is Awesome and a U of T student.

The interviews proved to be the most popular posts I've had on this site for quite a while, but they weren't the only thing to happen here in 2012. And what better way to summarise everything else than with cold. hard. stats.

Here, then, in chronological order, are the top five most visited (non-interview) silaron posts of 2012:

March 4th, 2012: "oh yes we love bananas"

I should have known the internet would love poems about bananas. I really should have. But I must admit that I was taken by surprise at just how popular this link to Al Rempel's poem would prove.


March 10th, 2011: "here i am counting nonetheless"

In order to help promote the Dead Poets Reading Series' Irving Layton Centenary Reading, David Zieroth offered up his poem "Three" for posting on the blog. The event, much like the poem, was a great success.


March 15th, 2012: "the silence perpetuated by the dots... breathtaking"

What can I say? The guy doesn't like blueberries. At 17 he made this great short film which, since this posting, has gone on to win ten different awards, and was included in the Vancouver International Film Festival's student film lineup. I'll take... hrm... 80% of the credit.


August 13th, 2012: "(29) Photos of Summer"

A poem of mine was included in the 2011 edition of Vancouver's "Poetry in Transit" program. Just before my poem came down from the city's buses and Skytrains, I posted all the photos friends had taken of "Summer" over the previous year.


November 16th, 2012: "Reading Jack Gilbert"

My short tribute to Jack Gilbert, who died earlier that week.

Oh man here comes 2013. Happy Holidays, all!

one more christmas idea

Already have my book? Why not support another Robert Taylor?

After years of battling for Google supremacy with the tens of thousands of other Robert Taylors out there, I've finally run into one I'm happy to lose out to.

For a mere £5 you can own Robert Taylor's Shark attack - the poems are back and its poem about "that strange Wigglewogglehoggle Bird".

One day, Robert Taylor, I too will write a poem about the Wigglewogglehoggle Bird, and on that day I will reclaim my title as Poet Laureate of the world's Robert Taylors. But until then the crown is yours, good sir.

five christmas ideas #4

Year four of my CanPo promotion project has arrived, Canada (you can read the last three years' entries here, here, and here), but I haven't arrived with it. I'm still in Zambia, where I've been living, or preparing to live, for half of 2012. Because of this, my poetry consumption rate has dipped a bit, and my access to books for rereading/cost-per-poem-breakdowning has dropped precipitously.

This year's list, then, is extremely biased, poorly researched, relatively uninformative, and based on my vague rememberances of how a poem or two or three reached out and grabbed me during the course of my 2012 reading. In other words, it will be more or less the same as all the other lists. Enjoy!


I see my love more clearly from a distance by Nora Gould, Brick Books, 2012

Who's Nora Gould? She's a Canadian poet. This is her first book. You can learn more about her here. Also, I interviewed Nora earlier this year, and you can read that here.

A "Canadian Poet", eh? That's not good enough anymore. Let's do this up "Canada Reads: Turf Wars" style! Oh, ok. She's from Alberta. Goooo Alberta!

Where is your copy of this book currently located? It's packed into a liquor store box in a storage locker in East Vancouver.

What do you remember about reading the book? I remember how engaged I was, and how curious. How pulled into the foreign (to me) world that the author was creating. I remember its heart-ache and its vast landscape, and the ways they intersected. I remember at the end putting the book down and sitting there for quite a while not saying or doing anything, just taking the whole thing in.

Does one of the poems stick out in your mind? Preferably one that's been posted online... There are many that stay with me, and they built on one another. "Thank You for Seed Catalogue" is right up there, and holds up well in isolation.

Earworm by Nick Thran, Nightwood Editions, 2011

Who's Nick Thran? A Canadian poet. This is his second book. You can learn more about him here.

A "Canadian Poet", eh? That's not good enough anymore. Let's do this up "Canada Reads: Turf Wars" style! Ok, well, it seems he's lived out West, and in the Maritimes, and in Toronto, as well as other places *gasp* outside Canada. But he won the Trillium award this year, so I think that means that Ontario has officially locked him down. Goooo, Ontario!

Where is your copy of this book currently located? It's packed into a liquor store box in a storage locker in East Vancouver.

What do you remember about reading the book? Reading this book was like riding a skateboard in a car park. No, it was like iPhone-bumping with Michelle Obama. No it was like being a lazer shot out of the mouth of a robotic shark.

Ok, only one of those was actually said about Earworm, though I wouldn't be surprised if the others where considered at some point. For me, reading Earworm felt like reading a good book of poetry. I remember thinking that lost amid all the discussion of the "coolness" of this book's subject matter (for, and against, and somehow involving me) was the fact that Earworm is filled with good poems. The best of them hit the intellectual/emotional sweet spot dead on, so who really cares if they are about Power Rangers or snow falling in an empty woodlot?

If you don't like skateboards or Power Rangers, don't let that stop you from checking out this book. And if you like both them and poetry books, you are the coolest twelve year old ever...

Does one of the poems stick out in your mind? Preferably one that's been posted online... How about two? "Earworm" and "756".

All Souls' by Rhea Tregebov, Signal Editions, 2012

Who's Rhea Tregebov? A Canadian poet. This is her sixth book of poetry. You can learn more here.

A "Canadian Poet", eh? That's not good enough anymore. Let's do this up "Canada Reads: Turf Wars" style! She was born in Saskatoon, raised in Manitoba, then lived in Toronto and now in Vancouver... so let's say... Manitoba? Goooo, Manitoba!

Where is your copy of this book currently located? It's here in Zambia! I'm holding it right now!

What do you remember about reading the book? So much! And only in part because I didn't read it 6+ months ago. I remember the strength of the opening suite of poems on environmental collapse and how poignantly it mirrored the suite of poems on the slow death of a father. I remember her skillful use of language, including her ability to say things plainly when needed.

Does one of the poems stick out in your mind? Preferably one that's been posted online... A favourite of mine was "Labastide-Esparbairenque, France".

The Weight of Dew by Daniela Elza, Mother Tongue Publishing, 2012

Who's Daniela Elza? A Canadian poet. This is her first book. You can read more about her here. Also, I interviewed Daniela earlier this year, and you can read that interview here and here.

A "Canadian Poet", eh? That's not good enough anymore. Let's do this up "Canada Reads: Turf Wars" style! She's from Bulgaria via Nigeria. But she's only ever called BC home in Canada, I believe, so we get to claim her. Gooooo, BC!

Where is your copy of this book currently located? It's packed into a liquor store box in a storage locker in East Vancouver.

What do you remember about reading the book? Feeling like I was in dialogue with someone far wiser than myself, but no less welcoming because of it. A poet, yes, but also a philosopher, a traveler, and a parent. I remember at first stumbling over all the spaces and silences in the book, then coming to miss them greatly once I'd moved on to other books.

Does one of the poems stick out in your mind? Preferably one that's been posted online... "Past Hope" is pretty swell.

The Makings of You by Nii Ayikwei Parkes, Peepal Tree Press, 2010

Who's Nii Ayikwei Parkes? A Ghanaian poet. This is his first poetry book. You can read more about him here. You can also read a string of interviewsI did with him here.

A "Ghanaian Poet", eh? That's not good enough anymo... wait, what? Oh yeah. I cheated. I've been in Africa for almost a third of the year, so the least I can do is devote a fifth of this list to African books. But don't worry, Nii lives in the UK, so he's still got that Commonwealth thing going for him. Goooo, British Empire?

Where is your copy of this book currently located? It's packed into a liquor store box in a storage locker in East Vancouver. I hope they are all getting along in there.

What do you remember about reading the book? I remember how impressed I was by the way Nii blends global history with his personal history, which also pulled in Ghanaian history, allowing his "African" book to resonate with foreign readers. I also remember thinking what a shame it was that almost no one in my home country would ever read it because of... well... competitions (and "best of" lists like this one) that obsess on CanCon.

Oh, and he's got some pretty killer love poems in there, too.

Does one of the poems stick out in your mind? Preferably one that's been posted online... "Ayitey, 1973" is a great place to start.

That's all for 2012. See you in 2013, when I'll once again be living in the same city as my bookshelves!

your particular kind of resilience

I live in fear of losing days, moments. My writing is an attempt to capture things from the outward flow of time and make them mine. I have a bad memory. Not surprisingly, memory is a recurring theme in my work, how it shapes identity. Other concerns have to do with belonging and acceptance. Do we only exist in relation to others? I’m drawn to people who’ve struggled, and fought, and people who’ve won something, or people who haven’t but have never given up fighting -- these are the people I like best in real life or as fictional characters. I am fascinated by the idea of resilience. Maybe what I’m talking about, and using the word resilience to describe, is something closer to the idea of some kind of identity – or strength – given the context of the human condition. Maybe the question that I pose is: What is your particular kind of resilience and on what is it based? What is it that encourages us to get up and keep getting up in the morning, given the sadness of being mortal?

- Yasuko Thanh, in answer to rob mclennan's 12 or 20 questions. You can read the whole thing here.

ok toronto,

this looks pretty great. Don't let me down by skipping out...

Click here for more info, and to buy tickets.

the rest of us are merely exposed by it

Only the best poets can risk simplicity. The rest of us are merely exposed by it. Only those same poets can risk complexity too: the rest invariably fail to realise the greatly increased responsibility towards clarity that it demands. Nonetheless so many rush towards it, knowing their faults are here best concealed.

- Don Paterson, from his book Best Thought, Worst Thought: On Art, Sex, Work, and Death (Greywolf Press, 2008).

new tosoo review (#3)

I leave the country and reviews of my 1.5 year old book start coming out monthly. I should have left ages ago!

CLARKE: New poets bring Layton to mind

This new review is from the Halifax Chronicle Herald, and was written by recently-appointed Toronto Poet Laureate George Elliot Clarke. The review is a double-bill along with Darren Bifford's Wedding in Fire Country. In it he speaks of the "wonky fusion" of Al Purdy, Irving Layton and Richard Brautigan that he found in my writing. Who knows which poet(s) someone is going to find in there next...

George Elliot Clarke visited my high school when I was in Grade 12. Funnily enough, I wasn't able to attend his reading (drama rehearsal, I seem to recall). I didn't really have poetry on my radar at that time, anyway. But Clarke was my first poet, that first corporeal being I encountered who actively spent their adult life writing poems in this day and age, and in this country. How peculiar, but also how suddenly possible. Simply knowing he was in the same building as me was, though I didn't know it at the time, a formative event in my life. So everything that's followed is Clarke's fault, in a sense.

Often when I visit a high school classroom to read or conduct a workshop I think of Clarke's visit, and the similar corrupting influence that I might be having on one or two of the students around me.

My point here is that to wake up in Zambia and read George Elliot Clarke describe my book as "full of promise" and me as a "writer of talent" is more than a little surreal and full-circle-ish, and I'm very grateful.

Thank you to Clarke for his time and attention, and to the Chronicle Herald for giving him the space in which to work.