A Discovery in a Bus Shelter

I met my first publisher at a bus stop.

Yes, I am as busy with the challenges as any of you out there in Vocalland. I have also had more contracts added to my teaching schedule, papers marked and to come on the docket, and I think I may have beaten back a slight cold that set up shop at the back of my head and on my chest. I know that I should rest and restore myself to better shape so that I can keep tapping out these pieces. But I feel compelled to talk about a man who changed my plans for my literary career, especially since I did not think I had one.

I was an undergrad at McMaster University, possibly in my first year there, about to consider certain decisions that would take me far away from the city and the country. But that was not happening yet. I had a bus to catch.

And so did he.

He was waiting for the same bus on campus to take us both downtown. He was a little nervous and awkward about the ride and had some questions for anyone willing to provide help.

'Do you know how to get to the library?'

Now, I knew that he did not mean any of the libraries on campus (the stop faced at least one of them). That meant he was heading downtown to the city's Central Branch.

'Is this the right bus?'

'Yeah, you'll be okay.'

As I remember it, we began to talk about it, and I mentioned the time I worked there, how I knew each floor like an old friend, and the fact that they had an interesting selection of films. And he beat me to the punch.

'I have to look for a film...but I'm not sure you'd be interested in it.'

And interesting assumption, and one that I had to challenge right away.

It was Federico Fellini's '8 1/2'.

Needless to say, I became friends with a complete stranger I met at a bus stop.

Anthony Christiano was a film buff, a writer, a student, and a man I trusted with some of the first poems I was willing to see in print. These included 'Mozart', based on a moment babysitting my nephew (you can find it under my Poetry section on Vocal), several haiku (I now see that I had the habit for a very long time) and one performance piece that remains the most embarrassing that I have ever been in print (that is saying something).

I look over that slim booklet now and wonder about the other contributors and where their lives led them after this particular publication. From the masthead, I see that this was the third literary collection put together by Polypus Publishing (a very interesting title reminding me of an octopus that took things too far). I turn the pages and wonder if I can ever get back to that optimism and joy felt over seeing my name in print on a real physical book. And I thank Mr. Christiano and crew to this day for doing the one thing a writer at that age needed the most: they believed in me.

Now, let me see if I want to share any of these old poems again...

KD

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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