Once in a while, you get to be on top of the world; other times, it feels like life is kicking your ass. This last week was one of those second ones.
I have never had food allergies, but Sunday I had an anaphylaxis allergic reaction to a cup of tea and half a cookie. I wound up in the hospital, on an IV, and then for four days had purple hives and couldn’t eat anything, even chicken broth or ginger ale, without my mouth and throat swelling up. Good times. It was very scary and not something I’d like to repeat. I now have an epipen and a big old bunch of allergy tests to take. It might have been the bergamot in the tea, but I’m also getting tested for everything else: vanilla, tea, milk, eggs, wheat, citrus.
Anyway, I’ve had so many health setbacks lately, I just thought – wow, I had better get going with this poetry thing. No more wasting time!
On top of the 1001 doctor appointments, I’m going to try to read some chapbooks for a contest and be an excellent thesis advisor. And try to remind people that I love them more often. And send out more poetry. Do the stuff that I need to do. Because in the end, it’s poetry and people that matter to me.
It looks like I’m going to have to port my blog as well, as blogger is no longer supporting people like me who use the FTP option, Dang! Just what I needed to mess with, along with my taxes and surprisingly complicated and expensive physical therapy bills. (California has the worst system for billing, it’s way worse than Washington where insurance billing was fairly simple, and my insurance doesn’t cover all the PT here I’ve needed like it would in Washington. Yes, one more reason I’m considering relocating to the wild wet Northwest.) See, that’s all the junk I don’t want to worry about, but the stuff that keeps getting in my face and taking up my time.
Wow – in the mail today, a cornucopia of poetry! Three books from the Mississippi Review Poetry Series, Issue 7 of Sentence, and Poetry Magazine with a long winded but amusing German essay in it, which I read out loud to Glenn while we were waiting for my orthopedist. It’s about the three questions poets get asked at readings, and also Proust.
And, good news from the orthopedist – no surgery required for the left ankle, and the right ankle is right on track to be healed in a week or two. That means there’s still probably another month or so of physical therapy to go before I’m walking – but walking by spring sounds awfully good! I love my new PT office, too, and the new PT guy I’m working with. Now, if we can get my mystery stomach illness solved, I’ll be ready to party! I think I will like Napa so much better walking than non-walking.
I also found out I have double the thesis students this quarter than I thought – there goes my free time for poetry submissions (not to mention writing…) Oh well. At least thesis work is fairly fun. I want to get some time to put up mini-reviews, too, of January’s Underlife, Reb’s God Damsel, and Allison’s Self-Portrait with Crayon. Maybe I’ll get a lull while the students are working on their reading lists…
Oh yes, and go read Jessica Smith’s post here on gender and blogging…which includes a quote by Reb that I also found edifying…
http://looktouch.wordpress.com/2010/01/27/gender-and-blogging-redux/
Got my wonderful-looking contributor copy of MARGIE 2009 today, with so many names…just a few include Alicia Ostriker, Tony Hoagland, Annie Finch, my publisher Tom Hunley, and a multitude of others. I’ve always enjoyed MARGIE and this issue is no exception. Plus, it has my poem “The Robot Scientist’s Daughter [morbid]” from the new collection I’m working on. I’m getting happier with the collection every day as I work on it, and even submitted work from the manuscript to the NEA.
I also got my MRI results for my left ankle: a torn ligament. Don’t know if it will need surgery. The right ankle is healing up normally for a sprain, right on schedule. Still running a high fever for the third week in a row, but at least the sun was out today. Still very wintry outside, still too far from spring.
And, on the urging of several of my doctors, had a meeting with the local hematologist, a very nice and enthusiastic gentleman who was surprised and excited to get a patient with PAI-1 deficiency, as it’s fairly rare. He even went back and called a hematology guy from UC Davis who has worked with a PAI-1 deficiency patient before, (who reiterated that my Seattle Hem-Onc is one of the best in the country with this particular kind of disorder – go Dr. Gernsheimer!) and called me at home with his advice. And when he talked to me, I was so thankful for those pre-med classes, so the scary stuff he said was all understandable. Sometimes having my rare disorders can make me feel lonely and scared; I mean, really, who can I talk about my fears and worries about? I took inspiration from Jilly and started a PAI-1 deficiency blog, just in case the other, like, 17 people in the world who have it are looking for a place congregate online. Treatments are all still basically experimental, since there’s not many of us to test, but they do exist. Anyway, weird mutants unite! Or something.
With my two bad ankles and the long illness of feverish weirdness, I’ve been watching a lot of movies as I’m not much good for anything else lately. Tonight I watched “Bright Star” about John Keats, and I remembered how his poem “When I have fears that I may ceased to be” echoed in my brain when I was in the hospital with pneumonia last year. The fear of all poets, that they will die before they write everything they are supposed to write? And his fear was warranted; he was unthinkably young, only 25, when he died.
Ha! This post is too morbid. Just like my poem warned in MARGIE!
I know AWP is the place for poets to be in April, but it turns out the universe has other plans for me: my presentation was accepted for WonderCon 2010, which is a few days earlier in April and much closer to home, in San Francisco. The presentation will be on something like this, I think: “From Buffy to the X-Men: Female Comic Book Superheroes in Women’s Poetry.”
I have to admit to being pretty excited. There are supposed to be something like 34,000 attendees. Gail Simone, one of my favorite female comic book writers, will be there, as will Peter S. Beagle, who I had the pleasure of meeting in Seattle a couple of years ago. (One of my early literary heroes, as he penned one of my favorite childhood books, The Last Unicorn.) Plus, some tv and movie stars and comic book royalty and such. Squee!
I’m beginning to feel better after a two-week mystery virus had me bedridden with chills and on a fluid-only diet, and I started at a newer, fancier physical therapy place for my tendon problems/sprained ankles that have had me in a wheelchair since Christmas Eve. It’s very shiny and has a recumbent stair-climber that I think I would like to have in my house, even after my ankle problems have cleared up.
Aside from that, I’m trying to fix up my taxes, apply for the NEA grant though I have a discouraging feeling about it, and send out poems/book manuscripts, which I also have a generally discouraged feeling about. I don’t know if the discouraged feelings have anything to do with reality, it’s just something that happens and I don’t want to send anything out, though I never ever stop writing. Discouragement keeps me from submitting but not from writing, isn’t that odd? Anyway, as a segueway, let me introduce you to this lovely post about rejection from Kelli:
http://ofkells.blogspot.com/2010/01/notes-from-beneath-covers-why.html
that will remind you that rejection is really not all about you, which is pretty comforting, actually.
Also, check her blog for a recent call for submissions for Ekphrastic poetry for Crab Creek Review.
I’ve been inspired to post this article I wrote, “The Bad Wives Club,” by several things:
—This story about a journalist who ran her own piece after it was accepted, then killed.
–The recent discussion about Zucker’s newest book, Museum of Accidents, by Stephen Burt and others on a variety of blogs, focusing on her poetry about motherhood.
I wrote this article last year about Rachel Zucker’s The Bad Wife Handbook and Beth Ann Fennelly’s Unmentionables. I really loved both books and thought that they had something important to say. The article was accepted by a well-paying org, then killed.
Here is a teaser. Click on the link at the end for the full article.
“If we were to plot out the trajectory of American women’s poetry on wife-hood, from Anne Bradstreet to Sylvia Plath to Louise Gluck to Rachel Zucker, what would that look like? Even the word “wife” seems freighted with connotations of motherhood, domestic chores and duty. What does it mean for a woman to be a wife in contemporary society? How can one be a “good” or “bad” wife? These are some of the questions posed to a contemporary reader in Rachel Zucker’s The Bad Wife Handbook and Beth Ann Fennelly’s Unmentionables.
Zucker and Fennelly question the guilt and the societal expectations in an unmerciful, sometimes piercing light. Can a contemporary woman keep her individuality, her art, her erotic self, alive in the face of the expectations of being a “good” wife, a “good” mother? What do those words even mean?
The two poets use different syntactical strategies while addressing similar subjects – Fennelly’s poems simmer and stir, bursting out of their narrative structures to include as much of her inner turmoil and messy, robust sexuality as possible, while Zucker’s tease and bemuse with their constant shimmying of pronouns, subjects and verb tenses.”
Rest of article here.
(If you like it, help support a poet – consider ordering my book or asking your local library to carry it. Thanks!)
My French teacher, Abner Genece, was not only a great teacher but a great influence on me as a lover of literature. (We read French poetry, Victor Hugo, and Andre Gide in his class.) He spoke with great love of Haiti (and spoke with great passion about the political injustices there) and even taught us a little Creole, the language most commonly spoken in Haiti.
It has been just awful watching the images coming in from Haiti. Please give, if you can, to one of the charities helping in Haiti. My choice is usually Northwest Medical Teams (now Medical Teams International,) which has an excellent record of actually using funds for helping people, unlike some charities. Here’s a link:
https://www.medicalteams.org/NetCommunity/SSLPage.aspx?pid=320&fund=17
Husband G’s work does matching funds for disasters, so check into your workplace and see if that is a possibility.
My folks are coming in town, which would be better if I wasn’t running 101 fever and was able to eat solid food. I just had, I think, all of my blood taken out at the hospital lab yesterday (or at least it felt that way) to figure out what’s going on since I’ve been pretty sick for a week already (both arms! Multiple sticks! Not my ideal lab visit.) Think good healing thoughts for me. I fear I will not be a very good tour guide in my current state. However, husband G did stay up last night baking them biscotti for their visit. So at least they’ll have that!
In poetry news, had a poem, “She Returns to the Floating World,” in the speculative journal Goblin Fruit:
http://www.goblinfruit.net/2010/winter/poems/?poem=floatingworld
The speculative poetry world is in a parallel universe that I don’t visit enough; the editors have a lot of fun, the readers do too, and a lot of times, they actually pay for poetry. I also notice more friendly correspondance from editors and fellow poets in those journals. I had an article on this topic in the Poet’s Market 2010, but basically, if you write poems about fairy tales, science fiction, or science, you owe it to yourself to check out the world o’ speculative poetry. Some of my favorite journals for poetry in this genre are Lady Churchhill’s Rosebud Wristlet, Mythic Delirium, The Magazine of Speculative Poetry, Star*Line, Cabinet Des Fees, and Goblin Fruit. I’m probably leaving out a lot of good ones with that list, which is a mix of print and online journals.
If you just can’t get enough of interviews with me, check out my new interview at Public Republic:
http://www.public-republic.net/i%E2%80%99m-attempting-to-connect-poetry-and-science.php
The interviewer, Bob Baker, really liked the poem “In the Faces of Lichtenstein’s Women” so I put up a recording of it on my sample readings page here in case you are interested:
https://webbish6.com/audio.htm
Plus, my artist friend Michaela Eaves (who did the cover of Becoming the Villainess) is doing her yearly “sketch a day” up on her blog – check it out:
http://corvida.livejournal.com/
How is your new year going so far? I was feeling a bit discouraged yesterday, but was helped by getting out into the watery sunshine in nearby lovely Yountville, where I can’t afford to eat at the many fabulous starred restaurants but I can afford a loaf of bread and lemonade from one of their bakeries.
I finally got my contributor copy of the Fall 2009 The LA Review, which was really fun to read – particularly the poetry – many of which were playful and refreshingly non-downbeat, including those by Deb Ager and Kelli Agodon.
I’ve also got a new poem up at the very intriguing online journal Prick of the Spindle called “Sleeping Beauty Loves the Needle.” Isn’t that a great marriage of poem title and journal title? I enjoyed reading the poetry in this issue as well.
Also got the anthology for the nominees for the Dwarf Star prize anthology, which included poems by editor Mike Allen and Seattle haiku poet Michael Dylan Welch. I was honored one of my own poems was nominated as well! Thanks Poemeleon and SFPA!
Rain is coming back to town, which I guess I can’t complain about, since most the country is in some sort of deep freeze. Ready for spring yet? When do the days start feeling longer?
Happy New Year! I mean it!
2009 was a hard year on a lot of people I know. Including me. That is why I’m happy to be waving goodbye. At the end of the year, my husband and I always listen to an old song by the Counting Crows called “A Long December” whose chorus goes something like “It’s been a long December/and there’s reason to believe/maybe this year will be better than the last.”
There’s always something hopeful about the beginning of the new year, even with all the bad news of 2009 pounding in our ears (terrorism! the economy! swine flu!) Hope is harder than fear, more delicate, more quiet.
My hopes for 2010 (as some of them are not so much resolutions but hopes) include:
–Walking without crutches, preferably sooner rather than later!
–A great (and enthusiastic) publisher for my second book.
–Put myself out there more. Apply for things I think are beyond my grasp. Be more assertive about asking for things like readings or work opportunities.
–Connect with people more. Be more social and attend more writing-related activities such as readings, parties and workshops. (Maybe even AWP? I’ve been unable to attend the last couple of years because of health problems, but I’d really like to go to Colorado…)
–Taking more nature trips – the woods, the ocean, etc. I definitely feel more myself when I’m not surrounded by apartments or buildings or lights or parking lots.
–Find some way to increase my paying work, and decrease my non-paying work. This isn’t so much a hope as a necessity, as living in California is insanely expensive.
–Try new things. Be more adventurous. Appreciate the good things around me as much as possible.
On that last one: I have always been very achievement-oriented, from a very young age. Always looking to the next goal, what I should be doing, how to maximize efficiency. One of the good things to come out of this year of health craziness was the ability to slow down and appreciate what I could do, what I could enjoy. When I had an amoeba and all I could eat was rice broth for weeks, well, I could still go out and feel sunshine on my face. When I broke my foot (and now with my ankle problems,) I realize that there is so much to enjoy from a new position – resting, reading, writing. With every setback, I felt that I was still appreciative of what I was able to do; when I was in the hospital with pneumonia this summer, I thought each morning: well, I’m still alive, and I’m going to leave the hospital and get better. And I did. I am thankful for the five poems I wrote this month, for my wonderful husband and fluffy cats, for the hummingbirds outside my window, for the fact that I can eat solid food right now and breathe without coughing even if I am experiencing other technical difficulties. I am hoping that 2010 brings more love, more joy, more hope, more health, to you and to me.
Happy after-Christmas, everyone! Hope you all got your wishes from Santa!
Well, I asked Santa for two working ankles, but he must have thought I said two matching ankles, because I sprained my other ankle on Christmas Eve. Now I have one mildly sprained ankle and one severely sprained ankle with tendonosis, which means I’ve got a degenerated tendon. I always thought part of me was degenerate. And I threw my neck out using my crutches, so, generally, feeling a little physcially discombobulated. The person I saw at urgent care (an area that doubles as the local ER – mercifully, both empty on Christmas Eve) for my sprained ankle and neck basically told me there was a lack of good doctors (especially primary care doctors – he had to solicit from his patients to find one himself, and he said it took him awhile!) and physical therapists here in Napa Valley – a conclusion I had already come to through experience. It’s weird when medical resources must be accounted for when deciding on where to live. I should be better at it by now, anyway.
I missed my Midwestern-dwelling family, but was able to connect with almost everyone on the phone, and besides, what fun would a girl with no working ankles be on the holiday? LOL. A lot of the family – or their spouses – were sick, with stomach flus and colds. I’ve actually been homesick for Seattle, although one of my good friends reminded me, “Think about all the reasons you left Seattle.” But all I can remember is how much I loved it there. Sigh. Well, and the rain – I do remember that.
It’s rainy and chilly here in Napa today, and although our Christmas dinner (thanks to husband G) was mightily delicious I just can’t think about eating the leftovers yet! We had plans for ham-and-cheese omelets and ham-and-bean soup, but for breakfast I’m eating plain rice, no ham. Maybe some carrot-ginger juice later.
I have a wonderful set of books to read, lots of pretty shiny things to look at, thanks to my family, and am generally not as freaked out as I could be. But I’m hoping for better luck and health in 2010.
On the plus side, plenty of excuses for reading and watching DVDs…
Jeannine Hall Gailey served as the second Poet Laureate of Redmond, Washington and the author of Becoming the Villainess, She Returns to the Floating World, Unexplained Fevers, The Robot Scientist’s Daughter, and winner of the Moon City Press Book Prize and SFPA’s Elgin Award, Field Guide to the End of the World. Her latest, Flare, Corona from BOA Editions, was a finalist for the Washington State Book Award. She’s also the author of PR for Poets, a Guidebook to Publicity and Marketing. Her work has been featured on NPR’s The Writer’s Almanac, Verse Daily and The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror. Her poems have appeared in The American Poetry Review, Poetry, and JAMA.
