I’ve been waiting to write all of you about my new full-length collection of poems, The Glass Is Already Broken, until the publisher got the cover colors corrected. Three books later, that has not happened yet. The cover art by my dear friend Jarrod Beck keeps being reproduced in an orange-y tone rather than the clear yellow of the original; the lettering comes through as dark brown rather than black.
I tell myself that this is a small problem in light of so much else that’s happening right now in the world. That perhaps I should let it go, be happy the book is published at all, after years of trying. Thank you, Blue Light Press, for wanting to put these poems out into the universe.
And I am happy. I love the poems in this book, and I try to embrace the meaning of its title in my life, though sometimes it’s really hard, like now, as I wait for the fourth re-do.
Here's the quote from Ajahn Chah, a famous Thai meditation master, that I used as epigraph and theme of the collection:
Before saying a word, he motioned to a glass at his side. “Do you see this glass?” he asked us. “I love this glass. It holds the water admirably. When the sun shines on it, it reflects the light beautifully. When I tap it, it has a lovely ring. Yet for me, this glass is already broken. When the wind knocks it over or my elbow knocks it off the shelf and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, ‘Of course.’ But when I understand that this glass is already broken, every minute with it is precious.”
So, the glass of my book is already broken. I have to laugh—it’s kind of a perfect irony, isn’t it?
Let me share with you the “blurbs” that grace the back cover:
The Glass Is Already Broken is a stunning collection of poems. Its center of gravity is grief--a weight and mass so dense that one cannot escape the force of its pull. The poems possess exceptional subtlety and lyric grace as they reinterrogate their narrative of loss: each retelling, each reiteration whittled to perfection. From the first poem to the last, Sharon Charde offers us a collection of harrowing, breathtaking elegiac beauty.
—Eric Pankey , author of Alias, Augury
In The Glass Is Already Broken, a mother navigates the decades-old loss of her son: “I keep trying to feel who I was before you / died. Listen to music I listened to then, Beatles, / The Band, Rolling Stones,” she insists, before admitting "I can’t / put the snake’s skin back around its flesh, / the snow back into the sky.” But what she can do is its own wonder: she shatters open a life centered on marriage and motherhood to reclaim her primal identity underneath. She revisits her choices. These poems grieve but they also reckon, bargain, riddle and joke, lust and croon, with every mode accented by a fine-hewed lineation. Reading these poems, and re-reading them, wrecked me in the best possible way.
—Sandra Beasley, author of Made to Explode
Over 25 years Sharon Charde's poems have considered, meditated upon, re-enacted, imagined and mourned one catastrophic death. Here is the culmination - crystalline, luminous, enraged, triumphant and loving - of that transformative work.
—Honor Moore, author of OUR REVOLUTION
I am so grateful to these wonderful poet friends who took the time from their lives to read The Glass Is Already Broken and write such deeply appreciated words about it. And grateful too, to the Oblong Bookstore which will again host me for a zoom launch on January 12, when I will be in conversation with the brilliant poet and memoirist Honor Moore at 7:00. It should be a great evening; put it on your calendar now and I will be sending around a reminder closer to the time.
I hope you’ll all get a copy—and maybe some for Christmas gifts too. And find some peace and joy in this holiday season despite all the hard things that are happening in the world.
I send my love.
Sharon