In appreciation: Ann Arensberg
When I heard of Ann’s death, I was immediately transported to the memory of her that remains strongest and most immediate. We were at a writer’s conference in Miami, Ohio, in the hotel where they put us up. Beyond the work of the conference, she was reading a book of my poems she had recently acquired and had some thoughts about it. She called and told me to come to her room to discuss. She said she’d be in the bath, but it was fine to come in, said it was her only free time. She was indeed in the bathtub — as if at her desk it seemed to me, at Viking on Madison Avenue. We discussed her edits for awhile and then I left (all edits taken). I miss her already. For the record, it was a bubble bath.
New York City