Tag Archives: Ekstasis Editions

3 Blocks press release. Life has been nuts! I mean more than usual…

…which is my excuse for the dearth of blog entries. My neck was screwed up and caused an incredible amount of pain.

I’ll shall return with a proper journal type entry, I promise


Heather Susan Haley, Three Blocks West of Wonderland, Ekstasis Editions

Vancouver, BC, Dec. 14, 2009 —Trailblazing poet, author, musician and media artist Heather Susan Haley’s new book, Three Blocks West of Wonderland, has hit the streets just in time for the holidays.

“Fierce, racy, full of stiletto irony, verve — yet rife with sensitivity. Three Blocks West of Wonderland is a highly fuelled poetic ride. Her LA, southern B.C. coast, energy-haunted world draws you electrically in and does not let you go. Like the subject of one of the elegies in this collection, Haley stirs, provokes the atmosphere.” – Author Russell Thornton,The Human Shore, House Built of Rain, Harbour Publishing.

Haley has been actively involved in her art for over a decade and has gained renown as an engaging performer and media artist; she is the author of a previous collection, Sideways (Anvil Press), Haley’s poetry has been selected for inclusion in numerous prestigious journals and anthologies including Geist and last year’s Verse Map of Vancouver.

Haley has been an editor for LA Weekly and publisher of Rattler and the Edgewise Café, one of Canada’s first electronic literary magazines. Founder of Continue reading

On the eve of my *new* book, Three Blocks West of Wonderland

Crazy week! Or two. Fighting a cold and losing, succumbing to aches, pains, fatigue, trying to ignore H1N1 fear mongering, largely by the press and government. I was just discussing it with my niece and she said a friend was in panic mode and saying, “Did you hear about the healthy young man slayed by it?” Niece saw his picture and said he must have weighed 400 pounds. Apparently obesity is a complicating factor.

I don’t know, my GP says everyone should get vaccinated, to reduce the number of carriers, my naturopath says you have to eat a lot of dirt before you die, it’s natural and I swing back and forth. Naturally. I ignored previous plagues, even in Romania, the rumored origin of bird flu and never worried. People die of seasonal flu every year. This year’s variety, the swine flu is getting a lot of press and a bit harder to dismiss.

I’ve been spending quite a lot of time proofing the galleys for my new collection of verse, Three Blocks West of Wonderland that I told new FB friend Timothy Taylor was completed over a year ago. My still unpublished novel, The Town Slut’s Daughter is nearly as old as my dog and her chin is covered with white hair these days. In the meantime, Continue reading

Gazebos, golf, books, shows, deadlines and more!

I just walked through some woods on our property that I haven’t been in before. We picked out a spot for our gazebo, overlooking the pond and adjoining creek. It’s lovely, veiled by spruce and cedar boughs, the white noise, music of rushing water close by. My first opportunity to blog in a while, so going back in time . . .

Saturday, May 9, 09

At the Magnolia Hotel, in the morning, with Pete, after driving down to Victoria yesterday from Nanaimo, after crossing the water on the big boat. In our element, it would seem. He’s happy to see his old buddies Jim Christy and Robert Priest and Trevor Carolan at the reception for the Pacific Festival of the Book. We had a hell of a time finding the church hall where it was being held, my bag of books and computer weighing me down. I met Richard Olafsun of Ekstasis Editons, my new publisher, who explained that he “likes to embrace chaos.” Should I be worried? In any case, he’s a friendly fellow; I’m encouraged that we’ll be able to work together on Window Seat.

Sunday, May 10

We were planning to leave after our readings at the Mothers Day gathering today, went over to Centennial Square after a reunion and brunch with my old girlfriends Solly and Jenn to find the usual confusion. No one seemed to know when, or even if, Pete and I were slated to read. It was cold, windy and our butts were still smarting from three hours in a church pew the previous night. We just looked at each other and Continue reading