I have a new project in the works, which I may have hinted at a couple of times now. No, I’m not talking about that secret fantasy novel, shhhh, but rather a collection of poems called Dandelion Symphony, from my time spent living in Europe. Why a dandelion you might ask? The symbol for military brats is often a dandelion because, like the flower, military brats can “bloom anywhere.” That and I like dandelions.
What’s
in a poetry collection?
Poems,
of course! Okay, okay, I’ll tell. With some help from my lovely readers, I’ve
selected some popular pieces from my blog to include. Many of them are nature
themed, but not all. I’ve also commissioned an artist to sketch some
minimalistic pieces for each section and will soon be commissioning a cover
designer as well. Art is awesome—it goes so well with poetry!
Then
there’s end notes, which are totally optional. I’m a very wordy person, so I’ve
put them at the back in case anybody wants more background on specific lines or
terms, complete with formatting for you digital readers so you can click back
and forth with ease.
What’s
new?
I like
to publish print editions with exclusive content. In addition to the internal
art and footnotes, I’m also including some poems I’ve never published before.
I’ve been saving some of them for a special occasion, and this collection is
it!
When is
it being released into the wild?
I don’t
have a definitive date yet. I released my last project way too quickly, so I’m
planning on taking the necessary time with this one. That means, I’ll be
waiting on beta readers, bloggers, my editor, and my artists, then proofreading
everything and formatting and formatting again… you get the picture.
It must
be perfect!
Let’s
say September. I’ll keep you updated when it gets closer to being ready.
I’d also like to host a blog tour upon its releases, so that’ll be fun! Until
then, enjoy a quick sneak peek:
Internal Sketch by Vera
Thoughts of Place
I find
that the first time
I visit a place, I am
drawn
to the way
the
red roofs slope,
the
snow-capped mountains tower,
the oceans lap at the white
shores.
Yet
the second time,
I
see how
the
locals meander the streets,
the
salamanders navigate the moss,
the
acacia thorns guard the sand.
How
did I miss it
before?
Living
in a place
is
not like visiting—
is
not like returning
to
where I lived before—
for
the image
in
my mind
of
what was
is
no longer
what
is.
***
Similar posts: Poem: Seeking the Song of Time, Origami Swan: Novel Title Change and Cinnamon Rolls (aka Characters), and Last of the Memory Keepers Book Birthday!
Recommended poems: At My Own Pace, Still Life in Spring, and The Christmas Market
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