First of all, though the Georgetown Review‘s current poetry editor (yours truly) was not able to make it to the AWP conference due to a traumatic head injury (see Head Trauma Drama Llama below), she is happy to announce that the Georgetown Review itself did make an appearance!  My eternal gratitude goes out to the wonderful and fabulous Ms. Jessie Carty, who did a beautiful job setting up our table and spreading the word about the journal.  Thanks also to everyone who grabbed a copy and spread the word!  This is one of those moments during which I’m overcome with gratitude.  Truly, thanks to everyone (and, seriously, everyone should send Ms. Jessie Carty all manner of delicious baked goods, thank-you notes, positive vibes, and good wishes for being my guardian angel).

Secondly, two plugs!  The first has to do with the overwhelmingly awesome awesomeness of one Mr. Ross White, Official Poetry Superstar and founder of Bull City Press (which publishes amazing chapbooks, which you must buy, and the amazing journal Inch, to which you must subscribe.  Now, please.  You can follow the links.  I’ll wait.  [Cue elevator music.]  Thank you.  You have done a good thing).  Mr. Ross White has two beautiful poems in this issue of the New England Review, which were also featured on Poetry Daily, a sure sign that Mr. Ross White is soon going to be ruling the entire poetry world wearing a crown of awesomeness.

The second plug has to do with one of my greatest obsessions: Project Runway.  Frequent readers of this blog may remember how each upcoming season sends me into a frenzy of joyous anticipation.  I love Pro-Run so much that the phrases “make it work,” “that’s fierce,” “hot mess,” and “I mean, you tailored chiffon!” have entered my daily lexicon.  My dear friend R. and myself have often discussed how their needs to be a poetry version of Project Runway, complete with death-defying poetry challenges, fabulous judges who can determine whether or not one’s verse is “too Paris Hilton” or “just a Missoni knock-off,” and electrifyingly eccentric contestants.  It appears that the always-amazing Dustin Brookshire might just have been tapping our phones, as he’s asking for entrants to Project Verse, the poetry version of Project Runway.  Enter, or, at the very least, follow this competition as obsessively as yours truly follows the career of the fabulous Austin Scarlett (is it wrong that I have overturned my 28 year old decision not to have a wedding solely because Austin Scarlett now designs wedding dresses?).

More to come soon, including a plug of my own for The Sad Epistles, which made its debut at AWP, and an announcement about my incredibly exciting summer job (which will possibly come with embarassing photographs of The Young Emma wearing a Spam t-shirt).