Reuben Jackson and Richard Peabody Featured in The Writer's Guide
The Writer's Guide is the tri annual literary offering from Bethesda's The Writer's Center. See inside for an interview with Reuben Jackson and a Review of Peabody's newest collection.
The Winter/Spring 2020 edition of the Writer's Guide (The Writer's Center tri-annual literary offering) is out and you can read it for FREE here to get all your DC lit news, book reviews, and information on upcoming classes and workshops at The Center.
This edition features an excellent interview with Reuben Jackson on his newest collection, Scattered Clouds. In reply to a question on juggling jobs from interviewer Brandon Blue (i.e. poet, Jazz writer, radio host, museum curator), we get this insightful gem from Reuben:
I look back upon what a high school principal
once dubbed “an odd skill set”—and I thank God
for youth. Multi-tasking takes a lot of internal and
external strength. Back in the day, I could leave work,
go to a jazz club, listen to a couple of sets, write the
review in the cab on the way home, call it in, stay up
to say 2 in the morning, then return to my 9 to 5 the
next day. I think it takes balance.... And an honest
conversation with yourself. Like the TV commercial
says, “Know when to say when.”
And a review of Richard Peabody's newest collection from Salmon Poetry in Ireland, Guinness on the Quay. If you're interested in a compendium of all of Richard's work up until Guinness, look no further than The Richard Peabody Reader.
excerpted (review by Ravell Rogers II) :
His charismatic voice and reflective style of poetry are highlighted in the poem “My Past Just Walked into the Silver Diner.” The speaker is vigilant as a young woman wearing an afro, torn stockings, and a punk swagger walks by him, his wife, and their daughter in a diner. The speaker describes the woman as “retro,” and her mannerisms as “...a great act./ Aggression as a defense mechanism,” but he reveals that while marveling at his current life, he views her as a personification of his own past. “I cannot resist the temptation to turn my head/ to see if some mirror image of my/ 20 years ago self is slouching moodily/ against a booth waiting for her.”
