words: study 2

another pre-release look at the novel Waking Up at Rembrandt's

photo by Thomas Lloyd Qualls

A lifetime ago, when I first wrote the novel Waking Up at Rembrandt’s and was trying to find it a home in the complicated world of publishing, I spoke with an editor at a university press who was initially interested in it. When I explained to her that I had used poetry to tell part of the story, her interest instantly evaporated. She bluntly informed me, You can’t mix poetry and narrative. I tried to explain that the purpose of the poems was to frame the narratives, I was just using an unconventional device. Even when I referenced the mini-chapters in Grapes of Wrath that served a similar purpose, she was not persuaded. (Who did I think I was breaking rules like that, Steinbeck?)

I still laugh a little when I think about her telling me so strictly that the two forms simply could not be mixed, as if they were oil and water, or matter and anti-matter. The upshot is that I did it. And the world did not blow up. And people seem to love it. The combination must have some kind of enduring allure, as it is in its second decade of its own brand of storytelling, and continues to remake itself for new audiences. Gratefully, it has also found a new home with Wayfarer Books, a brave and inventive publishing house captained by those looking to break old rules and to create new pathways.

Here’s another little taste of the world of Cafe Rembrandt, then. Hope you love it as much as we do. If it inspires you to pay a longer visit to the cafe, just go here: Waking Up at Rembrandt’s

WORDS: STUDY 2

words are impossible little creatures. 
they won’t come when you call 
or call when you come. 
they march out of step 
and sing out of tune.
they bump against other words 

and get tangled in wire.
they stray from the crowd 
and get lost in the woods.
they stumble 
over thoughts
and spill off the page. 

cover design by Connor Wolfe