Wake: Up to Poetry
"The act of poetry is a rebel act."
Jump All But One
I’ve always made fun of people who quote hollow, old sayings. Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates, Martin Luther King Jr.’s big dreams and Neil Armstrong’s promise to mankind (from the moon). Those old adages are so distant, so separate from our own lives. But sometimes — every so often — things get too hard to explain, and metaphors really are the best translation.
Today is my last day at the Press. I wouldn’t trade my 2 years here for a thing, and it really is sad to see my experience here come to a close. We had a good-bye lunch at Shorty’s (the wonderful outdoor cafe/restaurant at Wake) with Dr. Holderidge, Candide and the rest of the interns today. Discussing the ethics, logistics and challenges of studying literature — from the viewpoints of researchers, educators and students — we really got to dig into the others’ opinions and personalities, a nice refresher after all of our nonstop deadline work at the Press . . . in the basement of Tribble.
The interns straddle several different roles at the Press. Part secretary, part editor, part reporter, part marketing rep–you get the idea–each intern has to remain open-minded, flexible and patient every day at the Press. Sometimes, editors call and make you scratch a project you’ve been working on for weeks (literally). Other times, the chips somehow just fall into place, and a project (like Twitter) goes smoothly. And sometimes, we’ve got to step back, look at the big picture and literally reevaluate everything we see and know — digital publishing, anyone? The point is that we keep plugging away and stay positive. And with a cheerleader like Candide, it’s hard to get too too sidetracked.
So here comes the awful metaphor. A metaphor I don’t want to use purely on principal, but here it goes anyway: Jump All But One. You know, that little game you play while waiting for over an hour at Cracker Barrel (for cheap, ‘home-cooked’ food). Sometimes you go bambambam, knocking out 6 tees in succession. Other times, you’re just plain stuck and have to start over. But by the end of it, you’re so proud to have it down to that one, last tee.
That’s what the Press has been like for me. Frustrating at times, challenging, but I’ve gotten that one-tee-left feeling on several occasions. The work has been meaningful, and I’m so glad that I have gotten to contribute to so many of the Press’s wonderful projects — from helping organize the cover art for a poetry anthology to starting the blog (and watching it grow!) to helping us plunge into the wide (and incredibly important) world of Twitter. The whole world of publishing is changing, and the Press is adjusting. I’m so glad I had my 2 years here, and I’ll be sure to check in often.