My Book Launch! (And No, I Was Not Born in Minnesota)

I was planning to announce the details a little closer to the actual launch date. But in the meantime it turns out that there's nothing else that I feel like blogging about anyway. So - I might as well make the announcement now.

Click on the image to see a larger version.

Ethos Books has previously published books by award-winning local poets such as Alfian Saat, Edwin Thumboo, Alvin Pang and Felix Cheong. Ethos Books is well-known among literature buffs in Singapore as a serious producer of the good literary stuff.

Interestingly, Ethos Books is also the same publisher which brought to Singaporeans the boldly political book "Days of Being Wild" which chronicles the 2006 general elections from the opposition's perspective. The book was written by Dana Lam. Does the name sound familiar? She was the former president of Aware who has become President of Aware again, following the recent old guard vs new guard saga .

Anyway, if you wish to attend the launch event for Two Baby Hands and Carrots, do send an RSVP (as mentioned in the poster). It will help Ethos Books to plan the event appropriately.

My thanks also to the National Arts Council, the National Library Board and the National Book Development Council of Singapore, for supporting the publication of the book and sponsoring the launch event.

Wait ... Before I go, one last sample poem from the book. This one is for those of my readers who wish that my poetry were a little more image-filled and complex.There are several layers of meanings in this poem too, and I've deliberately created room for each reader to bring his own interpretation to the table. Guess who's the old man in this poem?

Garden City

Let there be trees, the man said, and lo and behold,
there were trees – rain trees, angsanas, flames of the forest,
causarinas, traveller’s palms and more – springing up against
the steel and concrete of the expanding city.
Even as the true towers of the city climbed higher
and higher for the heavens, the trees were planted, replanted,
transplanted, watered, fertilised, and groomed to grow
and grow. They appeared overnight, abandoned the
chaos of jungle, bent to the will of man, grew in straight lines,
in squares and rectangles, in allocated corners,
in car parks, along highways, outside banks and buildings,
faithful to the commandments of urban developers.
The hard lines of architecture were softened,
the rain did fall, the green did gently, gently grow,
and in his seventieth year, the man was pleased,
as he rested, as he viewed his work, as he felt the weight
of a nation’s soil run slowly through his old green hands.