April 2017

E-book sale: Last day!

2017/04/30

April 30th has arrived—which means this is the last day of my tax-relief sale (because I paid my taxes this month, and need some relief!) on Smashwords. All of my e-books are available for $1.99, in your choice of ePub or Kindle formats, through the end of the day (Pacific Time, I think). No coupon codes to enter—just click on the Buy with coupon button.

This includes my new book, This Is Not the Book That Will Save Your Life: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/717550

 

For the full list of available titles, click on this link (you may have to scroll down a bit): https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/kevinjoconner.

Thanks, and happy reading!

(30 April 2017)

In defense of the word ‘and’ (a poem)

2017/04/29 — 1 Comment

Another bit of Skeltonic verse that I wrote on Day 28 of National Poetry Writing Month, after I had already posted my poem for the day. A problem I often have with poetry in print is that some poets format their work in such a way that the manner of presentation distracts me from the poem itself. One of the things that makes a poem unreadable for me is when a poet substitutes every occurrence of the word and with the ampersand (&). Though it may make sense in a title or a name, it looks horrible when used in text, suggesting either laziness or affectation.
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When everything else evaporates or vaporises (NaPoWriMo 2017 Day 29 alternate poem)

2017/04/29 — 1 Comment

This was my initial attempt at the Day 29 poem. I initially posted my second attempt because I felt this first one was too literal. Now that I look at it again, it really isn’t; it just lacks an emotional center (at least, for me it does).  Continue reading

National Poetry Writing Month 2017, Day 29

2017/04/28 — 3 Comments

My Day 29 poem for National Poetry Writing Month uses the prompt on Napowrimo.net—which involves choosing a ‘very specific, concrete noun’ from a favorite poem, doing some free writing based on that word, then incorporating that all into a new poem. I chose to work from the word bones, which I drew from a poem by S. R. Mason, Dry skin, cold hands—I live in upside down houses and draw X’s on my tongue. Continue reading