My Poem, “The Wildness,” Up on Verse Daily Today

Hairy Woodpecker

A Poem, “The Wildness,” Up on Verse Daily Today

Thanks to Verse Daily who featured my poem, “The Wildness,” originally published in Cherry Tree, up at Verse Daily today.

http://www.versedaily.org/2020/thewildness.shtml

Here’s a sneak peek. Wishing you all a safe and peaceful holiday week. Stay home and give your loved ones a call to tell them you love them.

November Doldrums, Grieving a Loss and Moments of Light

Typewriter with red maple leaves

November Doldrums

It’s been a rough week. It started with me staying up all night with kitten Sylvia that required the emergency vet (okay now, but gave us quite a scare), continued with me being too sick (not covid, but a stomach and sinus infection) to get much work reading or writing done, and ended with the news that my maternal grandmother, after surviving covid-19 for two weeks, passed away today, just a few days short of her 96th birthday. This was my last surviving grandparent, and one who shared with me a love of literature – Poe, Hemingway and Faulkner were a few of her favorites, and in her youth she read voraciously. She lived in Missouri, which has some of the highest covid rates, and no one was able to visit her the last weeks of her life, because of covid.

I know people are chafing under travel restrictions during Thanksgiving, but remember that people like me – and my grandmother – are the people that need protection. Wear a mask, stay six feet apart, and stay home. Having to miss a Thanksgiving with family is much better than having to mourn a family member you can’t even have a funeral for, which is what I’m doing this week. No amount of pumpkin pie is worth that.

Sunshine in November, Seattle View from Kerry Park

Moments of Light

Even in the darkest times, there are moments of light. Most of the week has been cold – in the low forties – and rainy, but yesterday the temperature was above 50 and the sun was shining, and suddenly everything was beautiful – the last remaining leaves on the trees, the snow-capped mountains, the neighbor walking his dog.

Besides the emergency-levels of “real life” stress of this week, I also got a rejection from the NEA grant, two book rejections (though my manuscripts were semi-finalists, sigh) and several regular poetry rejections. When you don’t feel good and you’re wondering what the point of all your hard work is, it’s important to remember the sun will shine again, figuratively and metaphorically.

This coronavirus has made 2020 a very tough year for everyone. My grandmother is just one casualty of a pandemic that has killed a million people world-wide. Travel plans and curfews and shutdowns have impacted the economy, our quality of life, almost every part of it. So I’m hoping you have a safe, happy-as-possible Thanksgiving week, and remember it won’t always be the way it is right now. Light a light. Get outside in every moment of sunshine. Grieve the things that are lost, and hope that 2021 will be a better year for all of us.

A Poem Up at Verse Daily, Rough Week, And On Poets And Prizes

Red maple leaves

A Poem Up At Verse Daily Today – “They Are Waiting”

It’s been a rough week, so I’ll start with the good news. A poem of mine published in the latest issue of Boulevard, “They Are Waiting,” which I wrote when I was waiting for cancer scan news a few years ago, is featured today on Verse Daily. Thank you to Boulevard and Verse Daily!

Here’s a sneak peek:

Sunrise in November, Woodinville

A Rough Week in November

It’s been a bit of a rough week for us here in November. My 96-year-old maternal grandmother, Opal, tested positive for Covid and is in isolation at her nursing home. She lost her husband in January, so this has been a hard year for her (and for my mom) already. We are praying she makes it to her birthday at the end of the month. I’ve already sent her birthday card, and I’m just hoping it makes it in time. Even if we were in the same city, I could not see her. It’s a cruel time to be ill.

At the same time, I got hit with another pretty serious stomach infection, requiring massive antibiotics (and sometimes hospitalization and surgery,) so I’ll ask for your good thoughts for healing there as well. I definitely am trying to stay out of the hospital. Stressing about the election and rising covid rates, too. The November sunrise picture is to remind us, even on bad days, the rainy cold months, there is always a little beauty.

White Peacock, Zoo Lanterns

On Poets and Prizes

There was a very interesting article this week, “On Poets and Prizes,” by Juliana Spahr and Stephanie Young, at the ASAP journal. It talked about the fact that, though some of us might prefer to think of the poetry world as a meritocracy, it is mostly a function of a small “in-crowd” of Ivy League types giving prizes to their friends, and only their friends. The charts and graphs alone are worth a look. Data-driven poetry information. Since poetry receives so little attention in America – and so few sales – the poetry prize decides whether a writer is read – or ignored. And most of this is nepotistic – highly nepotistic. More than you thought, if you already thought it was.

It is hard, as I have posted the last two weeks on the blog, to make a living as a poet. If you did not come from a family with money, didn’t go to the “right” schools, never ran with the “right” poetry in-crowds, it’s going to be even tougher. I mourn having to say this, especially to younger poets with more enthusiasm and optimism than I had (I was always a little cynical.) If you don’t go to Iowa for your MFA, you don’t go to New York City and the right parties, you are probably never going to get the big prizes or the big fellowships. Which means, you probably won’t be read. The data presented in the article is fairly convincing.

But…it does happen – and I know people who it has happened for, who were lucky, who just on the merit of their work and their hustle, did make it. I am so happy to know that such poets exist.  Publishers, from time to time, present terrific work by people from “nowhere,” who don’t have money or go to prestigious schools, and their work finds not only an audience, but good reviews and accolades and yes, prizes. Am I likely to be one of the lucky ones? Are you? The odds, as the article makes clear, may not be in our favor. But there is something honorable about writing, publishing, continuing to offer the work to the world, isn’t there?

If we are Katniss Everdeen and the Poetry World is the Hunger Games, how do we start to break the game, the in-crowd, nepotistic, odd-are-never-in-our-favour  system? Do we want to? How do you choose which poetry books to read, or decide which book is good and worthy of your time? How do you choose which book to review?

I want to be hopeful. What is the message of hope I can find here? I admit to feeling a bit discouraged, poetry-wise, this week. I’m still waiting, for a publisher to pick up one of the two book manuscripts I’m circulating. A lot of living the life of poetry is waiting, isn’t it? I am wishing you the best this week.  Some good news. Some luck.

Happy Post-Halloween and Blue Moon, Election Day Voting Interview on Health, and More!

Fox Statue with Typewriter, at My Redmond City Hall (where my ballot box is)

Happy Post-Halloween! And Looming Election Day!

Hello my friends! I hope you had a safe and happy Halloween. We dressed up, decorated, and tied bags of candy on our tree branches and retired for the night to eat pumpkin soup and watch Buffy Halloween episodes. And of course, in tradition, I dyed my hair purple for the occasion and we made a unicorn pumpkin. I took pictures of the orange moon as it rose, and the Blue Moon – once in a blue moon seeming an ominous prediction.

Election Day is looming before us, though when they will declare a winner is unknown. I voted weeks ago of course – in Washington State, everyone can vote by mail as early as you receive your ballot. This fox here represents my voting space (as well as my love of foxes and typewriters!)

Downy woodpecker, perched

An Interview on Voting as a Disabled Chronically Ill Person in Health Magazine

Usually, I’m a writer, and the interviewee, not the interview subject, but recently I was asked to be part of an interview series on voting and gladly participated. I hope it is helpful to some of you. It is so important to vote this year, however you can. You know. It could save countless lives; it could endanger other’s health, depending on who you vote for. (Biden/Harris for me, of course, because they believe in science, health care, and try not to be superspreaders (see recent news on how several Trump fans went into the hospital for hypothermia and how 20,000 covid-19 cases and 700 deaths have been linked to Trump rallies.)

Here’s a link to the article: Chronically Ill and Disabled Americans Share How They Are Voting

The Election, The Month of November: Plans, Worries, Etc.

So, with a fraught election and a pretend king who doesn’t want to give up power, I notice the media has been teeming with mentions of civil war. That’s not comforting. I hope we have a peaceful, overwhelming Biden win on election day. I hope we can sleep better soon.

People are storing up food, medication, and some are buying guns. What am I doing, you ask? Why, planning to write a page a day in November on my novel-in-progress, participating for the first time in NaNoWriMo. Why not be optimistic in the face of apocalypse? I have always done it before.

The sky is blue and I’m going to try to get out in the weak November sun soon, so I’ll leave you with a couple of poems: “Wonder Woman Considers the Pandemic,” and “Poison Ivy Considers the Apocalypse.” One of which will appear in an upcoming Freezeray anthology on Covid-19 and Superheroes!

I’ll do another book giveaway after Election Day! Until then, stay safe and warm, read some poetry, and vote!

Getting Things Done in October, Mentoring and Making a Living as a Poet, Pursuing Goals and Dreams, and a New Instrument

Fairy Tale Mushrooms in Woodinville (fly agaric or amanita mushrooms)

Getting Things Done in October

Hello my friends! And sorry I missed a post last week. I’ve been surprisingly busy and actually lost track of time and forgot to post. Glenn and I voted early, and our votes have already been counted. As a reminder, if you have not already voted, please vote – I have never lived through a more important election in terms of the safety, soul, and health of our country. Remember, wherever you are, your vote matters, local politics is as important to pay attention to as national politics, and don’t let anyone discourage you from making your voice heard and your vote count.

A few of my friends challenged me to a “submission a day” in October thing, counting both book submissions and individual lit mag submissions, and that has been harder than writing a poem a day for sure. I had to research new poetry publishers, lit mags I’d been meaning to send back to, and try to keep my Excel spreadsheets up to date.

Also, ironically, I have had a couple of things happen that might not have happened if not for the pandemic.

This week I’ll talk a little bit about building a career as a poet, helping others, how to reach for your dreams and goals during a plague year, and thinking about a new instrument as a metaphor.

Pileated Woodpecker in Flight in the Rain

Mentoring At-Risk Youth

Also, so, someone I knew in high school reached out to me and invited me to participate and so I started a little mentoring with a Cincinnati non-profit for disadvantaged teens. The first bit involved talking with them about making a career as a poet. I love the idea of volunteering with youth again – something I did more actively when I was younger and have felt lately I wasn’t able to do as much because it was so demanding. But this was something I definitely felt able – and willing – to do.

The Zoom talk went well. The group had plenty of advanced and sophisticated questions for me, and I signed up to do another talk in November to go over things like writing a writer’s resume or how to advance in the spoken word circuit (thankfully, I have friends who can gave me advice on that front.) Because everything is in Zoom these days, it doesn’t feel weird to be doing volunteer work in my old hometown at all – a thousand miles or so barely makes a difference. Maybe I can figure out how to reach out to local youth on Zoom here, too.

Multi-colored sweet peppers, farm stand in Woodinville

Making a Living as a Poet

How do you make a living as a poet? I have gotten three degrees (one on scholarship, the second while working full-time and with grant support, the third I’m still paying off), worked in jobs as a makeup artist and retail manager to working a dozen years as a tech writing manager to teaching at an MFA program online to serving as Redmond, Washington’s Poet Laureate – and the answer still eludes me.

It’s tough – especially when talking to people who, like me, didn’t come from money, don’t necessarily have support in terms of family and friends, and have to keep the bottom line in their priority list as well as their dreams. I realize I was very lucky in that my mom encouraged me from an early age to recite poetry and that my husband never thought my dreams of becoming a full-time writer were stupid. I really emphasized in my talk how important it is to surround yourself as much as possible with people that support your dreams and goals – it makes it much more likely that you will succeed.

These guys don’t need abstract answers – they need specifics in terms of how to make a living in the real world of poetry. I gave them resources, recommended reading, talked about my own experiences – and wished I’d had someone to give me this kind of talk when I was their age. Real talk about the costs vs benefits of college – especially during covid-19 – and building networks when you maybe don’t come from the “right” schools and aren’t friends with the “right” type of person.

Red maple leaves, blue sky

Dreams and Goals

I’ve applied for four jobs in the last two weeks. This is a possibility because right now, it doesn’t matter that I walk with a cane or that some days my MS symptoms keep me from leaping out of bed at 8 AM. Right now, everyone is working from home, at odd hours. My brain and energy are the best they are ever going to be, I realized, and circumstances will never be better for me to get a job – maybe ever again. So I’m going for it. Wish me luck! I hope I can get an opportunity to help support my poetry career and do some good in the world while making money. Is that too much to dream for?

Also, I researched PhD programs for myself and MBA and MS programs for my husband Glenn. I am really encouraging him to use this pandemic time to do something to develop his own career (he encouraged me to get my low-res MFA when I became too sick to work full time over a decade ago now, so it’s time to give him equal opportunity.) And why not try school now, when so many are waiving tests or fees in order to get more students to sign up, and his work will cover a little bit of the cost (better than nothing, but definitely not most of the cost.) I’m not sure the PhD makes sense as much for me – I wouldn’t get a pay raise or a job out of it, necessarily, so the benefits would be mostly inspirational/aspirational.

Tiny typewriter in a pumpkin patch

Learning an Instrument as a Metaphor

I’ve also been contemplating getting myself an electric guitar. I used to play acoustic guitar, growing up, and in high school I even took a few months of lessons. I haven’t played as much since my MS diagnosis, because my hand coordination and strength are not as good as they used to be. However, my dad had electric guitar that I used to practice on, and it was much easier to play and on my hands, so I’m thinking of getting myself one. Glenn also plays drums and guitar, and we like occasionally playing and singing together for fun, so it would be a nice way to spend time together during the winter without going crazy.

Also, something about learning – or in my case, re-learning – an instrument that seems like an apt metaphor for writing. You may have the basics down, but there are always new things to learn, and your brain literally improves the more you force it to learn things you haven’t learned before, like dance steps or piano. And music seems somehow intrinsically connected to poetry, doesn’t it? Even Led Zeppelin or Lana del Rey. I don’t have any delusions about becoming a rock star in my late forties, but it would be cool to get a new hobby going during the cold, dark winter months, and anyway, I already know a little guitar, so it won’t be starting from scratch.

Sunflowers in a windstorm

It also might be a way to connect again with my father, who taught me to play a Spanish guitar song when I was about seven years old, and is himself a pretty good guitar player. I’ve been reconnecting with my mom by reading some of the same books (we just finished Virginia Woolf’s Room of One’s Own) and doing an over-the-phone book club, so this seems an appropriate way to have something to talk to my dad about. I am not especially talented at music, but I love it, and I hope this brings a little bit more of it into my life. (My mom also sent me my Casio keyboard I got for my eighth-grade birthday! Woo! I bet I can still play Prince’s “Paisley Park” on it! Some things you don’t forget…)

Welcome to October, Chaos Edition: Smoke in Seattle the Remake, A Week of Chaos and Uncertainty, A Salon Article on Reading for Mental Health, and A Book Giveaway

Sylvia in her pumpkin bed

Welcome to October: Chaos Edition

Well, anyone who was looking forward to crisp air, blue skies, the election being almost over…sorry! Seattle was once again immersed in smoke from California’s massive wildfires, we had maybe the worst Presidential debate in history (in which Trump made fun of Biden for wearing a mask, refused a Covid test before the debate, and his family refused to wear masks…just saying.) And now Covid is sweeping the GOP, putting several, including Trump and Chris Christie, into the hospital.

This Ursula Le Guin thought seems apropos right now: “People who deny the existence of dragons are often eaten by dragons. From within.” —from A Wave in the Mind. 

Is uncertainty making you anxious? It is me. So here’s a picture of apples on the tree in Woodinville. See? Do you feel better now? Good. Because I have a little more to say.

Apples on the tree in Woodinville

I’d feel sorrier for Trump if he didn’t go out of his way to minimize the danger of the coronavirus months after he knew it was an airborne killer, didn’t encourage masking in the White House or among his followers (leading to me constantly, on a cane, having to dodge obnoxious Trump supporters without masks every time I go anywhere in public). If he didn’t  not prevent the deaths of over 200,000 Americans by not providing masks (that were ready to be mailed out to Americans in March until Trump cancelled them), or even encourage them until midsummer, then barely seem to be sorry for these deaths, if he didn’t purposefully expose people after he knew he was sick…Well, a lot of things.

I hope that this helps people realize that mask-wearing, keeping social distance, staying out of crowded indoor rallies, and not being evil really does protect you from Covid. (I can’t really prove that last one.) I saw film of GOP-ers hugging and touching each other indoors after the Barrett nomination which they were pushing through against the will of the American people, and I was like, well, I haven’t hugged anyone besides Glenn since FEBRUARY. I was afraid to go the dentist for a broken tooth while Trump went knowingly to an indoor fundraiser positive for Covid. So we could say: stupid behavior leads to bad outcomes, and it’s hard to feel sorry for people who bring their problems on the themselves and others with willful ignoring of safety regulations. Especially since I have a lot of friends who got Covid, didn’t get top-notch experimental, expensive treatment, couldn’t even get tests, and were often left to die – or not – at home instead of getting any treatment. Is this the America we want? It’s not the America I want. So, please: vote like your life depends on it.

Smoke in Seattle, a Harvest Moon and Mars

So I haven’t been able to go outside the last couple of days without coughing, a sore throat, and nosebleeds. Sound like a repeat of just a little bit ago? We are lucky that we, unlike some of our friends in Napa and northern California, aren’t losing their homes to yet another gigantic evil wildfire. 2020 – the year that just keeps giving us terrible, terrible things!

This was my picture of the Harvest Moon the first night of the smoke. It was an even deeper red than this at moonrise, almost invisible except a, let’s face it, evil? spooky? foreboding? smudge in the sky.

We did have one day before the smoke descended on us where we went on a Monday afternoon to a very empty pumpkin farm and masked up to get pumpkins, corn, apples, and took some pictures in the empty field in the sun. This was the last sunshine I’ve experienced, so I’m glad we got some fresh air and sun when we did. That’s my 2020 Fall motto: grab sunshine and fresh air while you can.

My Salon Article on Reading for Mental Health

Salon Article on Reading for Mental Health

This year has been tough on all of us. One thing I did with my nervous energy was read through books by Octavia Butler, Margaret Atwood, Joan Didion, Rebecca Solnit, poetry by Ilya Kaminsky, Jericho Brown, Lesley Wheeler, and Matthea Harvey, start a book club with my mom, read a terrific book recommended by my little brother…Check out the article to read all about it.

Salon: Reading List for the Pandemic for Mental Health

I hope this article might be helpful to you and you pick up at least one of the books for yourself!

The Robot Scientist’s Daughter

Book Giveaway: The Robot Scientist’s Daughter from Mayapple Press

Another book giveaway: this week, my third book, The Robot Scientist’s Daughter, a book about growing up in one of America’s secret city, Oak Ridge, Tennessee. It has robots, radioactive wasps, redacted government documents, wildfires, fox fire…

Anyway, if you want to enter the giveaway…and you’ve made it this far in this post…leave a comment on this blog post with your e-mail so I can contact you if you win.

I’ll choose the winner using a random number generator next Sunday (10/11/20).

Warning; I can’t ship Internationally, so American entries only. And good luck!

Stepping into Fall (with Anxiety,) What Are You Reading, and New Bird Sightings

Stack of pumpkins in Woodinville

Stepping Into Fall (with Anxiety)

The autumn equinox came and went in a deluge of rain, bringing with it the anxiety of a fall with an important and scary election, doomscrolling, the increasing cold and dark, and for me, a bunch of rejections (because why not?)

Now I have decided to embrace fall, with its waning daylight, and increased need for sleep or hot chocolate and cider. I have embraced doing the things I can to decrease dread and panic. (Donations to political causes? Yes! Phone calls to friends who live across country? Yes! Reading books to increase empathy and resilience? Absolutely!)

Sunflowers

What Are You Reading?

I’ve been thinking a lot about how what we consume, culturally, affects our moods. There have been a lot of articles about avoiding “doomscrolling,” overdoing news vs staying informed on everything from coronavirus to the Supreme Court to the Presidential election. But not a lot of articles on what we can do to help our hearts and minds stay resilient, empathetic, and not totally stressed out and doing things like breaking our teeth in our sleep.

Right now I’m reading Margaret Atwood’s recent sequel to Handmaid’s Tale, Testaments, and Octavia Butler’s The Parable of the Sower. Both terrific books that remind us of our responsibilities in the middle of chaos to do what we can to make the world a better place. And I was so impressed with the quality of writing in both books – both writers truly at the top of their games in these books.

So, what are you reading that has helped you cope during the pandemic? Leave your choices in the comments!

Scrub Jay on my back porch

A New Bird Sighting, and Other Natural Phenomenon That Keep Me Sane

Speaking of things that keep you sane…I saw a brand new bird here – a pair of scrub jays! They usually are up in mountains or farther away to the north, so I felt very lucky. I think the pair was a mother and juvenile because one kept begging to be fed! I also have some pictures of hummingbirds in the rain. We’ve had a lot of rainy days since the smoke, but we’re supposed to get some pleasant fall weather coming up this week. I think weather does affect my mood more than I like to think, though I’m hardly what you’d call the “outdoorsy” type. I’ve noticed my garden starting to wane, only dahlias and sunflowers and a few late roses left.

Last night our Ring camera captured a pair of black-tailed coyotes in the back yard. It’s not quite a bobcat, but a reminder that we live in a semi-wild place here. I’m going to make an effort this year to stay connected to nature even when the temptation is to stay inside.