Wurm im Apfel, the poetry series Kit Fryatt, Aaron Copeland and myself set up at the end of last year, ran a fairly successful series of readings, or so I like to think. It has led to wurm press and wurmfest.
Wurm press has published a couple of chapbooks, with some very interesting ones coming, but we want to grow it into a small but solid publisher of innovative poetry books. The first book, the prototype, is mine: as such, it doesn’t matter so much if it all goes horribly wrong. It’s antwerp, and I’m ready to order the first big batch, including the half dozen that must be sent to the official libraries. I’m just waiting for the print–on–demand people to offer one of their occasional discounts. If this all works out, then we might have a significant publication to follow.
Wurmfest is coming along nicely, despite the panics and worries about poets, despite my fear that it’s a sandcastle and conference chaos is the high tide. I’m playing project manager, which is fun, something I haven’t done for 20 years. It seems to be going quite smoothly, which no doubt means I’ve not noticed chaos’s sea–alligators gleefully prancing ashore.
Wurm im apfel will be back in spring with more events, we hope.