A portion of this interview by Jarret Keene appears in the Oct. 11 print issue. The extended interview begins after the jump.

It’s been years since Tucson had a poet laureate of our own. Now we have one again, thanks to Mayor Jonathan Rothschild, who, with the help of the Tucson Pima Arts Council, appointed Rebecca Seiferle to serve as our city’s emissary for literacy.

Actually, Seiferle’s résumé almost merits a U.S. poet laureate post. She’s a noted translator of Spanish poetry, and she wins prestigious awards like the Lannan Foundation Poetry Fellowship. More importantly, Seiferle is deeply involved in Tucson’s literary community, teaching writing workshops to middle school and high school students.

In her (unpaid) position, the poet laureate will visit K-12 classrooms and encourage kids to recognize the value of literary culture—and to write some poems themselves. Schools can book Seiferle by calling TPAC at 624-0595, or visit tucsonpimaartscouncil.org.

What were your thoughts on Tucson’s literary community when you moved here six years ago? Has your opinion changed?
One of the reasons I moved to Tucson was my awareness of the rich and diverse literary and artistic community. A few years before, I’d been a visiting writer for the reading series at the University of Arizona Poetry Center and was aware of the vital role the center plays on the local and national level. The literary community here seemed very open and welcoming to possibilities. My sense of that richness, diversity and openness hasn’t changed. I’ve become aware of even more artistic venues in Tucson—dance, collaborative text and performance, spoken word and educational outreach. I have also become aware that at times, the Tucson community resembles a collection of smaller communities. There’s a challenge to bridge some of the gaps.

Can an event like the Tucson Festival of Books help poetry thrive as bookstores close nationwide?
I think festivals like the Tucson Festival of Books create an occasion where the word can flourish. Poetry has the capacity to create a different kind of public space that is seldom created in our culture. Within that space, (there is) play and delight in words, imaginative expression and a sense of community. … I think the festival brings us back to the original power of the word. Also, more practically, readers like to see and hear writers. It’s an interesting fact that poets often derive a better income from readings than from book sales. The writer’s voice, living and audible, is often a way into the book. People are drawn to that human connection.

You edit a literary webzine, The Drunken Boat (thedrunkenboat.com). Do you value online publishing and the printed word equally?
I published the first issue of The Drunken Boat online in April 2000 and was drawn to Internet publication for a number of reasons. The work is accessible globally. Publication doesn’t require great economic resources. And given the limitless nature of a webpage, there are no longer any constraints upon page length or format. The title is taken from French Symbolist poet Arthur Rimbaud’s great poem. But I also envisioned it implying a publication open to poetic enthusiasms, open to work that might elude publication in more-conventional print formats, where page length and line length become prohibitive. I do love the printed page, the printed word and the feel of a book in my hands. For me, both modes of publication are equally valid.

Should poetry uplift us or illuminate hard truths?
Poetry is an illumination of truth. Some truths are hard; others are uplifting. I also feel that illumination of a truth, even a difficult one, brings increased awareness. The scales fall from our eyes, and we simply see. That’s uplifting.

Do you know when you’ve written a great poem?
The perception of a great poem is one given by each reader. Sometimes, luckily, that perception comes back to the writer. In the process of writing, I feel the energy of the poem, the great sweep of it through the room and through me, sometimes like the blow of an angel’s wing. So there’s a sense of having been visited by something within, and also beyond, me.

Is the poet’s role to be an emissary of literacy? What would Ezra Pound think?
Well, one of Pound’s most-influential books is his early ABC of Reading, in which he plays the emissary of literacy to fellow poets, trying to inform poetic practice, to educate the modern era. Like it or not, the poet is a messenger of the word and the word’s power to communicate, for self-expression, to heal or harm. And literacy is the ground we all walk on.

Tucsonan Al Napoli's book Belmont 2017 has recently been published by local publisher Fireship Press. (206 pages, $14.50 paperback, $8.50 Kindle. Ten percent of the profits will be donated to a local charity.)

Summary (from publisher):

There's no race as fantastic as the Belmont Stakes when a Triple Crown is on the line!
Already the winner of the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness, Reardon is the odds-on favorite to win the Belmont Stakes, and the Triple Crown. But the competition is fierce! Other front runners include the former two-year-old Champion of the Year, Red Sun Rising; Windlace, the fastest filly on any American track; and the dangerously aggressive Bone Dancer. And don't rule out the closers; after all, a race is won in the last furlong. All these horses are something special: they have the souls of dragons, and the gods of Olympus are placing bets on their favorites.

Author bio (from publisher):

Born in Brooklyn, schooled in Connecticut, Massachusetts, Georgia, Hawaii, and Viet Nam, Al Napoli worked as a nutritional consultant to race horse trainers and owners from 1980 to 1995 at Belmont, the Finger Lakes, Aqueduct, Monmouth Park, and Philadelphia Park. He raced horses from 1981 to 1993, independently and with partners, breeding some winners out of "useless" mares, learning the hard way that expenses tend to exceed earnings. "I never turned a profit, but I never had so much fun in my life," says Napoli.

The Daily Beast has this excerpt from a chapter written by Mark Kelly for the paperback edition of "Gabby: A Story of Courage, Love and Resilience."

Fair warning: I got a bit emotional reading through it. Give it, the excerpt as a whole, and the book a read when you get the opportunity. The paperback edition is out November 6.

Earlier that afternoon I had done a television interview remotely from Gabby’s congressional office. After the interview the cameraman saw me jump into a car with Gabby. He didn’t know that we were en route to the Safeway. We weren’t aware that he had followed us until Gabby and I got out of the car in the Safeway parking lot. He appeared out of nowhere. He was respectful and didn’t get too close, allowing her a little privacy. We walked around to the front of the store, and the crowd slowly grew as the shoppers recognized that familiar face and walk. We had a short conversation with the assistant store manager who had been there on Jan. 8. Gabby took a close look at the rock garden memorial that Safeway built at the site, and then she and I started to talk about where she had been, where the shooter had been, who was standing around her, and where she fell after the 9mm round pierced her skull. She was interested, sad, and solemn. So was I. Gabby was taking it all in. She walked back and forth several times. She greeted the folks lining up around her and then she said to me, “I remember.”

Most of us can’t remember where we parked our car when we walk out of a store. It happens to me often. But here was Gabby, who has defied the odds, and one of the two things that she remembers from that day is where she parked. She pointed to the spot, and it was exactly one year later. Up until this day the last thing she remembered leading up to 10:10 Arizona Time on January 8, 2010, was learning of the death of her favorite waitress the night before.

The anniversary weekend was good for Gabby, good for me and I think good for many of the remarkable people in the City of Tucson, Arizona. It was a chance for healing and closure and a moment to honor six special souls: Christina-Taylor Green, Dorwan Stoddard, Judge John Roll, Phyllis Schneck, Dorothy Morris and Gabriel Zimmerman. Gabby had known Judge Roll for years, and Gabe was a cherished member of her staff. Gabby would never have the opportunity to meet Christina, Dorwan, Phyllis and Dorothy.

For the rest, head over to the Daily Beast.

Tucsonan Steven Eggleton is the author of Dry Heat, published this spring by ElHuevoPublishing (144 pages, $11.95).

Book summary:

Dry Heat is the debut novel by indie author Steven Eggleton. A dirty, angry, and often painfully funny read, Dry Heat explores the angst and confusion people in their early twenties frequently feel. Written in Eggleton’s skeptical, sardonic, and bluntly frank narrative voice, the book chronicles a little over a year in the life of Vincente Vasquez, a disillusioned grocery-store clerk living in Tucson, Arizona. Chiefly concerned with escaping the drudgery of work, social equality, and the pursuit of sex; Dry Heat is a visceral and raw novel that’s sure to leave an impression.

Author bio:

Steven Eggleton was born in Tucson, Arizona in 1976. He started writing poetry and prose in 2001 and published his first short-story in 2004. He is a two time college dropout and holds the distinction of being a completely self-taught writer. Eggleton is married and is the father of two beautiful young girls. He continues to live and work in Tucson, his favorite city.

This book is available at Amazon and at Pima County Library branches El Rio, Nanini and Kirk-Bear Canyon. Eggleton writes in a casual, easy-to-read fashion. Language is honest and sometimes raw, which makes his main character more realistic. Eggleton's book provides a glimpse into the mind of a 20-something male who is a bit lost, pessimistic and angry about his life. The main character's love life is a central topic and provides a storyline that keeps the reader wondering what happens next.

With the "Images of America" series, Arcadia Publishing does a great job giving readers a pictorial look back in time to celebrate the history of neighborhoods, towns and cities in the United States.

For the series on Pima County, photographic archives were pulled from the Arizona Historical Society. Jill McCleary of AHS, and Linda Mayro and Simon Herbert of Pima County each worked on the book. (128 pages, $21.99)

The photos below are used with permission from Images of America: Pima County by Pima County and the Arizona Historical Society. Available at www.arcadiapublishing.com, or by calling (888) 313-2665.

• AHS PC111 95616
• Clara Fish Roberts, the University of Arizona's first student, captured this photograph of the UA in 1898.

• AHS B39189
• The Rialto Theatre in 1928.

• AHS 56423
• A view from "A" Mountain, taken around 1950.

Have you ever read a book and felt that you could have written a better storyline or ending? Well now you have that chance.

eBook publishing house Osutoria Publishing and Mzure, an interactive technology firm, joined together to create Open Book Projects (www.openbookprojects.com). This is a collaborative reading and writing experience whereby one person writes a chapter of a story and then readers are invited to contribute the next chapter, continuing the storyline.

Chapter 1 is available on their site. The winner of the Chapter 2 submission round was recently announced, and the deadline for authors to pen Chapter 3 will be announced soon. The current book title is Face. Check out the trailer for Chapter 1, "The Awakening" below.

Part-time Arizona resident Stasia Minkowsky is the author of Skinny White Woman, released earlier this year. (Mill City Press, 416 pages, $16.95, www.skinnywhitewoman.com)

Book Summary:

After being pronounced a lightworker by a psychic from Sedona, all Stasia Minkowsky wants to do is smoke a joint, get drunk and forget about it. The only problem? It’s not working.

Desperate for answers, she is guided to her first Native American sweat lodge where most participants are in recovery for drugs and alcohol. Cautious about “drinking the Kool-Aid,” Stasia’s once guarded exterior begins to unravel with the power of the ceremonies and the path known as the “Red Road.” Under the guidance of a goofy yet reclusive Native American teacher, she is buried in a hole for her vision quest and the only white woman dancing in the spiritual piercing ritual called the Sundance.

But as her rites of passage into the ceremonial path become deeper, so does her understanding of the blemishes and betrayals of following a spiritual path. The lure of her old lifestyle is never far from her thoughts along with a nagging question about the pain of growing consciousness. If this is truly the path to becoming a lightworker, why is it so friggin’ hard?

A self-reflective memoir about what it means to follow a modern-day spiritual path, Skinny White Woman is a raw and unrefined look at the human journey to find the spirit within.

If you read this week's Weekly, hopefully you read the excerpt from Jeff Biggers' new book, State Out of the Union: Arizona and the Final Showdown Over the American Dream, and tonight at the Rialto, you'll get a chance to hear Biggers read and perform. Doors open at 7 p.m., and the show starts at 8 p.m.; admission is just $5.

Need a few more reasons to go? Admission goes to the Raza Defense Fund, but you'll also get to see Salvador Duran, The Jons, Carlos Arzate and Mariachi Nueva Melodia.

From show organizers:

State Out of the Union: Arizona and the Final Showdown Over the American Dream is award-winning journalist and historian Jeff Biggers’ riveting account from the Arizona frontlines on how the state's historical conflicts over immigration, Ethnic Studies and state’s rights have become a national bellwether.

But Arizona is not only home to some of the most virulent anti-immigration legislation in the country—it is also the bir
thplace of a new movement of young Latino activists and allies who have challenged the self-proclaimed architect of SB 1070 in a historic recall election, and are also mobilizing to defend Mexican American Studies, civil rights and the state’s education system from censorship.

"Edge Of The Abyss," published in the Sydney Morning Herald's Saturday edition, is an illustration of the challenges involved in keeping a family together when one of its youngest members has an incurable, potentially life-threatening condition (though the life in danger is not necessarily her own).

An excerpt:

Before Janni was born, we were given baby toys by family and friends. Most of them are for six-, nine- or even 12-month-olds. I didn't expect to use them for months, but if I can get her focused on something, she stops screaming.

One toy has three shapes on it: a red square, a blue triangle and a yellow circle. When switched on, the toy asks, "Find the red square." I still remember sitting in our easy chair, half-asleep, holding my three-week-old daughter as she bats away at the toy. "Find the yellow circle ... Correct. Find the red square ... Correct." Through the fogginess of my exhaustion, I become aware that she's hitting the right shapes and colours. I look down, thinking it must just be coincidence.

"Janni, where's the yellow circle?" I ask, watching her arm stretch out, fist closed, as if struggling to make her body do what she wants it to do.

"Correct," the toy announces.

No. It can't be. She's not even a month old. "Janni, press the blue triangle."

"Correct," the toy announces.

Oh my God.

Read more after the jump.

MOCA Tucson's book-club series, Fear & Loathing on the Campaign Trail ’12: Arts, Politics, Media, will be meeting tonight to discuss Thomas Frank's What's the Matter with Kansas.

And I'll be there to moderate the discussion.

Hank Stephenson talked to Anne-Marie Russell about the book club for TW a few weeks ago:

And the next book?

(What's the Matter With Kansas?) is really about the aesthetic of demographics, and how life becomes lifestyle in the science of polling and demographics—how people get identified as soccer moms or XYZ, and how life turns into lifestyle and gets marketed as lifestyle. It's very much an aesthetic issue in terms of ... identifying and categorizing people's ideas about who they are. We all have the shorthand of the Volvo-driving, latte-drinking liberal elite, or whatever sort of visual image you get from the things that you consume or the activities that we pursue—that's sort of a visual composite of a type of person. The science of polling has become so sophisticated, and all of our consumer habits and Internet trolling habits are tracked, and we have so much more massive amounts of data that put people in different microgroups based on their habits that then get articulated in visual form.

How will the night play out?

You know how book clubs go. There's wine and beer; I always say they're wine clubs with a few discussions of books. But we had really, really wonderful conversations and discussions with the two that we've already had. It's been really inspiring and fun and has given us a sense that citizens are keen to get together in public spaces and discuss these sorts of things ... and (like) having a place to discuss how we've been responding to and interacting with (campaign materials and) really deconstructing how these symbols are being put together to tell various stories—and how we all feel about that. So it has been a really productive and rich and interesting set of conversations, and I'm really excited that (Jim) Nintzel is going to be moderating the next two meetings.

Sure, most left-leaning political junkies will want to watch Obama tonight, but the book club meets at 5:30 and we'll go for about an hour, which should give you plenty of time to get home to see the president's big speech. Come on by for some beer and wine. Details here.