Wishing for a Better 2020: a Death in the Family, What to Write When WWIII is Trending, and Speculative Poetry Reading This Saturday

Glenn and I toasting on New Year’s Eve

Wishing for a Better 2020

After a quiet, uneventful, and thoroughly happy New Year’s Eve (see: pictures)  I woke up on New Year’s Day to the news that my grandfather had passed away at 99 and “Death to America” was trending. My father had just gotten out of the hospital for pneumonia and I broke off a piece of tooth in my sleep. In addition, it’s been cold and blustery here, too miserable (40s and rain) to do much outdoors, but Australia in midsummer is on fire, and its distressing news (the koala population might be functionally extinct! Here’s a picture of the red air in New Zealand right now!) keeps surfacing as well.

 

Celebrating the New Year at Willows Lodge

I am one of those people who tries to find the positive but it’s been a rough beginning to 2020 for me. My MS neurological symptoms have been acting up a bit – stress definitely plays a part in that – so I’ve been trying actively to avoid any extra bad news (except when I go on Twitter, which I’ll get to later.)

I’ve been writing a ton and even got an acceptance or two in the new year but it’s been hard to focus on that in the middle of everything else. Are you having the same issue? Are you still feeling hopeful for 2020?

 

An Anna’s hummingbird that appeared outside my window yesterday – a sign of hope?

What to Write When WWIII is Trending

So, the day after New Year’s day, I woke up to “WWIII” trending on Twitter. How to address the world like this? What can you possibly do or say to help the situation? I can’t do much when it comes to world politics, I can protest, I can vote when the vote comes around, I can call or write letters to my local congress people, but I cannot create peace on earth on my own.

It was hard already trying to help my mom when she’s in a different state (and her father was in a totally different midwestern state) and this tooth that’s due for a root canal is just shredding itself for some reason in preparation. I can’t control any of those things. Small acts of love, kindness, and peace? Yes. I can try to breathe. I can try to focus on the little everyday beauties around me.

Shelfie of some books that were really important to me when I first started writing. Good to return to inspirations.

My Twitter feed usually has very little politics, a range of writing news and announcements, nature pictures, and definitely no hellscapes, but this week has been different. I must have a lot of friends in New Zealand and Australia, because pictures of Hell-colored red air and smoke have been prominent on my timeline, along with fights about Iran and war. I’ve been writing about apocalypses for a while (see: Field Guide to the End of the World) but it’s always surprising to see how fast the apocalypses might be approaching on the horizon.

So what do you write when WWIII is trending? It’s not wise to get your news solely from social media, so I’ve been avoiding social media for things like reading and I’ve been checking in with my mom and dad back in Ohio to. I’m tackling my reading stack from the books I got for the holidays. I’ve been writing poems that try to make sense of the chaos.  Which is impossible, of course.

I went back to some older books, books by older authors like Stella Gibbons and Karen Blixen, which helped me remember that in the 1920s, there was irrational exuberance in the stock market, decadence and flappers and a wonderful proliferation in the art and writing world, and they were about to face World War II and the Great Depression. I went back to some of the books that helped me become the writer I am today, fairy tale and mythology writings that talk about how we tell stories, and why they’re important. 

Sylvia with some reading material and a stuffed figure of Mr. Winkle.

As writers, we can do one thing: we can document the world, our world, the specifics – the moods, the visuals, the attitudes. We can try to capture the moment, whatever that moment entails. That doesn’t mean we contain or control it – but at least we can offer perspective, a point-of-view, an account from the ground, so to speak.

 

 

 

Lesley Wheeler and I at a past AWP

Speculative Women Writers and Dinner with Friends

The MLA Conference is taking place in Seattle this upcoming week, which means Seattle folks can catch up with their friends who are fancy faculty in other states and that there are great readings all around the city this week. I am lucky enough to have a dinner scheduled with Lesley Wheeler, who is a great speculative writer and all-around motivated, hard-working, kind and thoughtful human (she has a novel and a poetry book coming out!) and then a reading with Lesley at Open Books and Seattle-based writer Jessica Rae Bergamino this Saturday January 11th at 7 PM!

I can prove that though I’ve known Lesley for years, because she lives and teaches on the East Coast, we rarely exist in the same space or even time zone – note the sole picture I could find of us together to the left was taken several years ago – so I’m excited for the opportunity! And I haven’t done a reading at all in a while, so I hope you come out and see us.

It’s actually a perfect time to celebrate speculative poetry, during a time period that is often described as possibly an embodiment of the futuristic dystopias written years earlier, a time of apocalyptic fires and conflicts. What better time to imagine the future? I’ll be reading a bit from Field Guide to the End of the World, but also a bit of new work, which has a fiercer, but more hopeful, apocalyptic mood, from one of my manuscripts that has been circulating. I hope it will lift your mood, and mine. Here’s to a better 2020!

 

Last Days of the Decade, Post-Christmas, What to Do with Long Cold Nights, Looking Forward to 2020, and Grateful for Artist Friends

Bellevue Botanical Garden Lights

Glenn and I strike a Christmas pose

The Last Days of the Decade

Can’t believe I’m writing that, in the last days of the year, in the last days on the decade. We’ve made it through the holidays except for New Year’s Eve. For a girl who remembers her halcyon days in the 1990s, it can be strange to think about going into the third decade of the new millennium.

Facebook and Twitter had a thing going around talking about major events/accomplishments/things lost-and-gained during the past ten years.
The last ten years have been…a lot. Here’s mine:

  1. We moved from Washington State to California (first San Diego, then Napa,) and back again. This inspired a lot of apocalypse poetry.
  2. Caught severe double pneumonia while in CA and almost died. Made a resolution in the hospital that I would not die until I published another poetry book.
  3. I published four poetry books (Field Guide to the End of the World, Robot Scientist’s Daughter, Unexplained Fevers, and She Returns to the Floating World) and one non-fiction book for poets (PR for Poets.)
  4. I tried adjunct teaching in a graduate program for four years. Decided it was not for me, due to lack of benefits and very low pay.
  5. I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, then a different, rarer kind of cancer. Made a funeral playlist. Took in a “re-homed” lucky kitten. Now the tumors in my liver have been deemed “indolent,” at least for now.
  6. I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.
  7. I was told I would never walk again, due to the severity of my brain damage, by several different neurologists, but thanks to physical therapy (and some stubbornness on my part), I am walking with a cane.
  8. We bought a condo, then sold a condo. Then my husband and I bought a house and – quite the undertaking – made it handicapped-accessible – mostly. (And in a neighborhood I am still loving.)
  9. Glenn and I celebrated our 25th anniversary.
  10. Just in the last month, had acceptances from several “dream” journals that I had been sending to for more than a decade.

Now I am alive, waiting for my first root canal to be scheduled, and shopping around two more poetry manuscripts. I have learned several things: the Washington State real estate market is bonkers, kittens have healing powers, always get a second opinion on any serious diagnosis, and never give up on things you care about.

Christmas, Lights, and Other Bright Things

We were lucky to have a quiet, happy, uneventful Christmas, FaceTiming with four sets of families and eating Christmas dinner with classic movies on in the background. We even got out briefly to see the Bellevue Botanical Garden Lights (see top of page and the gallery below) and take pictures of some of the local festive scenes in Woodinville.

Festive Woodinville Scenes

 

Glenn, Michaela Eaves, and Me Clowning Around on Boxing Day

Post-Christmas: Long Dark Winter Nights and Grateful for Artist Friends

One way to feel better during our long dark Northwest winter nights, besides going to see some festive lights, is spending time with your artist-type friends. We were lucky enough to see our artist friend Michaela Eaves on Boxing Day and had a great time catching up over Glenn’s port and chocolate ricotta cheesecake.

I also learned about the tradition from Iceland of the frightful Yule Cat, who terrorizes anyone not wearing new clothing on New Year’s Eve. In an equally delightfully disturbing vein, one of my favorite presents from my husband was this piece of “Calamityware,” which looks like Willowware but depicts apocalyptic scenes of robots, aliens, and capybaras. We’re hoping I can become officially sponsored by them at some point.

 

Looking Forward to 2020

Today, at almost the end of the year, I’m trying to stay healthy, battling off various bugs, worried about my father in the hospital for pneumonia (a lot of bad germs going around this year, folks, so be careful!) and still awaiting my first root canal, it’s easy to feel anxious about what the next year will bring. My manuscripts are making the rounds. I have 45 active poetry submissions out right now. I’m trying not to worry about what kind of havoc multiple sclerosis might wreak in the coming years, on my life, my body, my work, my marriage, given that we don’t have a lot of good treatment options or a cure. But I try to continue to have hope.

As for politics – as it surely a politically fraught year ahead – I was talking to a young person (21) today who I mentioned the – to her, horrifying – thought that Trump might get re-elected. Yes, I said, Millennials outnumber Boomers, but Boomers are much better at voting. That said, if the young people vote in big numbers, maybe he won’t get re-elected. That’s the hope, anyway. I certainly am tired of seeing environmental destruction and the worst impulses of Americans – greed, hatred, prejudice – being played out into apocalypse scenarios. It would be nice to have a little bit of hope. It would also be nice to have a woman in the office of President for the first time. I am still hoping for one in my lifetime.

On that note, here is my finished version of the Vision Board I made for 2020. Note there are three deer, one fox, one peacock, and several hummingbirds. I’m not sure what the significance of this is but I’m sure some subconscious symbolism is at work. Wishing you all a happy New Year’s and a hopeful, inspired 2020!

Final Version of my 2020 Vision Board

Happy Solstice, Feeling a Little Under the Weather on the Darkest Day of the Year, Imagining 2020, and Manuscript Redux

Me with my Solstice tree

Happy Solstice!

Yes, from here on out our nights are getting shorter, and our days are getting longer. It definitely doesn’t feel like that can be true here in Seattle, but we light our candles anyway, read poetry, and Glenn is baking, so I basically feel like we’ve covered all the important Solstice traditions, anyway.

I’m working on a vision board for 2020 and on both of my poetry manuscripts to send out in the new year. I’ve been sick, so extra downtime on my hands has meant a little more time for projects like this. I find it’s very hard to revise a whole poetry manuscript without a pretty significant amount of quiet time to think about it, and like a lot of writers, I like to put out all the poems on the table or floor or wall and see how they work together, or if they don’t. I’m not good at craft-type projects but I continue to try to do a collage project for each year, the idea being to set your inspiration/aspiration for every year. Also very Solstice-y, right?

Under the weather on the darkest, rainiest day of the year in Seattle

A Little Under the Weather on the Darkest (and Rainiest Day of the Year)

I’ve been sick this week, and Friday, though not technically the Solstice, was the darkest day of the year in Seattle, as well as the rainiest. Tiny streams became rivers, landslides and floods threaten, and every time I ducked outside I felt more like a drowned rat. Sometimes I think it’s important to show the good and the bad days in the life of a writer with a chronic illness like MS, not just the good.

That’s why I included this picture Glenn snapped of me yesterday, in my “Mistletoe and Mimosas” t-shirt, mustering all the holiday spirit I could. I felt sick to my stomach (thanks to the new medications the doctors have me on), I hadn’t slept more than two hours in a row for three nights, and just wasn’t feeling my usual upbeat self. Sometimes being sick slows you down, and keeps you

from doing the things you’d rather be doing. I’d certainly rather be healthy for Christmas (and not getting an emergency root canal on New Year’s Eve Eve), but sometimes this is the reality – I’m not my shiniest, happiest, self.

Sylvia as the ghost of Christmas Presents

Looking Forward to a New Decade

But I’m hoping 2020 includes plenty of healthy days, more wins than losses, more time for friendship and less time resting and recovering. Turning into a new decade reminds me that we have to look forward to the future with more than fear in it, even when you have a chronic illness that tends to worsen over time, and has no cure (yet). I have to hang on to hope. Hope that they will find more effective treatments for the things that are wrong with me. Hope that I will get good news about my next book manuscripts, or even an unexpected fellowship, maybe. Hope that I will love more new books and make more good friends and get to discover beautiful things around me. Even the days when I am sick and the day is cold and gloomy, I want to be able to discover new things.

Light Post at my house on the Solstice Night

We only have the days we have, and I want to spend as many of them filled with things that give me joy – poetry, spending time with friends, spending time in nature, and trying to appreciate the little things—a new song or book to love, the way the light reflects off a streetlight, or even a cat hiding in a box of presents—along the way. I laughed tonight watching Eddie Murphy on SNL and enjoyed Lizzo singing with so much joie de vivre. I sat by the fireplace and drank herbal tea and looked through pictures of the last year. We can live in fear of the unexpected tragedies and misfortunes that await us, but we can also expect unexpected beauty, humor, and happiness.  May your days have more light than darkness!

 

Copper Canyon Holiday Book Party, Early Family Christmas Dinner, and Working on Poetry Manuscripts (Again)

Cheers to you!

Wishing You a Happy (and Peaceful) Holiday Season

It’s been a busy week this week – an early Christmas dinner and presents with family, a visit to the endodontist (a root canal in my immediate future, boo) and the Copper Canyon Holiday Book Sale/Reading Party. That’s along with working on my two poetry manuscripts some more before sending them out before the end-of-the-year deadlines. Not to mention trying to get everything else – holiday cards sent out, decorating, shipping out Christmas presents to family in Ohio and friends in other states, tax stuff – done.

But even when you feel overwhelmed by everything going on, it’s important to take time to enjoy the little things when you can (I say to myself.) I haven’t gotten out yet to see any holiday movies or check out the local holiday light shows (of which we have many!) But I did get a chance to celebrate a little with friends and family, and even listen to some great poetry, and I’m thankful for that.

Glenn, me, little brother Mike, and his wife Loree

Family Time – Celebrating an Early Christmas

Since my brother is going home to the Midwest for real Christmas, we had our Christmas dinner and presents early. Glenn made a wonderful duck dinner with chocolate peppermint cake for dessert, and it was great to catch up with Mike and Loree since we haven’t gotten to see them as much lately. It’s important to take a little time out for family this time of year especially, I think.

We are thankful to have some family close enough to celebrate!

 

Pre-reading with Abi, Sarah, Rob, and me

Copper Canyon Holiday Party

We have been busy, but happy we set aside some time yesterday to make the trek downtown to the Hugo House for the yearly Copper Canyon Book Sale/Reading/Holiday Party. It’s always fun to see old friends, the readings were great (especially Natalie Scenters-Zapico and Taneum Bambrick, both fire!) they had live music (Glenn bought a CD from them – gotta support the arts!) and came home with new books to read. I love to support local presses and I’ve been an admirer of Copper Canyon Press for a long time.

 

Deer visitors in the yard

Poetry Work on Two Manuscripts, and Book Reviews

This week also had me taking a hard look at my two manuscripts. One seems pretty finished, the other one is still in process, and so I printed it out again and sorted it out on the table. I’d missed that I had taken out a pretty important couple of poems in the last round of edits, and I added in some new ones, which means I need to edit a few others out. Then the harder work of targeting publishers – the ones that will take a chance on me. I also updated my acknowledgments pages with my recent acceptances, which was fun!

The tricky part of messing with poetry manuscripts – especially two at a time – is keeping in mind the themes, avoiding unnecessary repetition, and making sure the book is fun to read, even if the subject matter might be deemed “depressing.” You want a certain amount of momentum in your first ten and last ten pages, for instance. You don’t want to bury your best poems in the middle of the book, which is easy to do. You don’t want it to be too long (which is probably around 70 pages) or to feel too slight. You have to think of targeting the right presses for each book – and unless you have a “home” publisher, that means doing your research and checking out new presses, older presses that have changed direction, that sort of thing. Then, make sure your TOC is updated, you don’t have any obvious typos, that kind of thing.

Reading material for the holidays

I also try to get book reviews done during the holiday break, though I’ve been busier with medical/dental stuff than I thought I’d be, so I haven’t gotten as much done as usual. I’ve been reading Fanny Howe and Rachel Zucker’s latest books, and enjoying them. I’ve been a fan of Fanny Howe’s work for some years, and Rachel Zucker’s book – which reads more like prose than poetry – has a really funny section at the end about writer’s residencies.

 

 

Plans for 2020 – A Feminist Speculative Reading at Open Books!

Are you making plans for 2020 yet? I’ll be reading at Open Books January 11th for a Feminist Speculative Writers feature with my friend from the East Coast Lesley Wheeler, which I’m very much looking forward to. And I can get some poetry shopping done there too! I haven’t done a reading in a while, so I’m hoping to read some new work and that is always exciting!

When Wishes Come True, Holiday Celebrations with Friends, and Looking to 2020

Kelli Russell Agodon and I

Holiday Celebrations with Poet Friends

The holidays are here, and we have started celebrating early. My poet friend Kelli and her husband Rose came over for an early Christmas celebration, and we got a chance to catch up. I think writer friendships are very important so even though we live about two hours apart (give or take a ferry,) and my health sometimes throws a wrench in our plans, we try to see each other to catch up a couple of times a year.

My brother and his wife are coming over this Sunday for an early Christmas as well. So we’ll be really tired of the holiday once the real day rolls around. Just kidding! I mean, seriously, I could do a party every day in December. Which is good, because there’s another party around the corner! This is the reason I have so many sparkly things in my closet – you never know when you’re going to need to throw on a fancy dress and look presentable in public during the holiday season.

Glenn, me, Kelli, and Rose

Magic in Gathering

There’s a little bit of magic in gathering with friends, isn’t there? It isn’t just the wine and cupcakes and sparkles (though those don’t hurt,) it’s the sharing of dreams and disappointments, hopes and doubts.

Kelli brought me a lovely ornament – a white fox in a white forest, in a little light-up snow globe. Foxes have been my favorite animal since I was very little, because, I think, they also have a little magic to them. I had a fox kit come up to me when I was a very young kid, in a field, and make extended eye contact, close enough to touch the tip of its nose. I’ve had other fox encounters since then, and they always seem to presage something good.

Even better than the ornament, Kelli took the time to look over my newest manuscript and make thoughtful suggestions. That is a real gift!

Glenn and I at the Fireside Lounge, Willows Lodge, Celebrating

Celebrating Wishes Come True

So, in last week’s post I was talking about wishing. And interestingly, some of the wishes had to do with poetry. Even more interestingly, though I am still shopping around my two poetry manuscripts to various publishers, I had really good news from two separate “dream” journals taking my work. The first, which I can share because I have signed the contract, was an e-mail from one of my poetry heroes, Tracy K. Smith, who took a poem of mine for an upcoming issue of Ploughshares. I have been submitting to Ploughshares, my records say, since 2003. Pretty exciting!

And then the second, is almost shockingly good, a place that is my top “dream” journal that published the likes of Sylvia Plath and T.S. Eliot, that I am deliriously happy about, took two poems. This is a journal I have been submitting to since the age of 19 – that is, 26 years! (I will share the name as soon as I am able.) Glenn and I went out that night to celebrate, because taking the time to celebrate wishes come true seems important. I want to feel grateful right now.

One thing I was noticing in the history of Hans Christian Anderson I was reading and in Sylvia Plath’s letters, is in all their ambition and well-placed confidence in their talents, they almost never felt satisfied with any individual prize, or publication. Nothing was ever good enough. Driven, ambitious people tend to be more successful, but also, perhaps, more unhappy. I wanted to be sure to try to feel the happiness in the moment, to put off the worries or discouragements that almost always follow good news for at least a little bit. And besides the holidays, the solstice is coming, which brings its own energy, and deserves to be noted and celebrated.

And speaking of good magic…Another thing I like to do this time of year is give things away. Giving to charity, giving to friends, even writing cards to loved ones all these things increase, I don’t know, what I think of as good magic energy. This time of year can be tough for so many for different reasons, so anything we can do to cheer up our fellow human beings, even if it’s just looking someone in the eye when they’re talking to you or asking someone when we’re checking out at the coffee shop how they’re doing, it’s probably a good idea. It can be easy to focus on yourself and your problems, and for me, it’s definitely something I struggle with – how to keep myself looking outward as well as inward.

Wishing you all a great 2020! Cheers!

Looking to 2020

So what are you looking forward to next year? It can be so easy to see the bleak, bad news, the disasters and the flaws in the foundations. When I think of the next year, I know there will be things I cannot control, hard things, but that I can also set an intention towards positive things.

For me, I want to spend more time in the coming year on things that build peace, like photographing nature, and writing, and hopefully less time in doctors and dentists offices. I hope to continue to improve my health as much as I can, to find wonderful homes for my two books, for my husband and family to remain healthy. I can’t believe we’re entering a new decade.

I was born in 1973, right before the impeachment proceedings of President Nixon. There was a lot of anxiety the year of my birth, about how America would be going forward, about ending the Vietnam war, about oil prices and alternative energy sources, about scary environmental challenges like acid rain or nuclear pollution. And this next year will have so many parallels – a President again under investigation, anxiety about the environment, about how people can live together, not just in our country but all over the world,  with peace and love and tolerance.

I’m hoping 2020 is a year of more kindness, of more peace, of more people valuing empathy and trees than war and profit. Eh, I’m a poet, I’m allowed to have big, unrealistic dreams, right?  Here’s wishing us all a better 2020! May all your wishes come true and may you all see a little magic!

What Are You Wishing For? A Quiet Holiday Weekend, and Welcome to December!

Glenn and I on Thanksgiving, enjoying the local color

A Quiet Holiday Weekend

It’s almost the end of the holiday weekend, and it was the quietest Thanksgiving holiday weekend we’ve had in years. We had a small, normal-portioned dinner on Thanksgiving itself (delicious though! All our favorite dishes from Thanksgiving, no turkey, and duck legs!), didn’t really go shopping on Black Friday, choosing instead to visit various festively decorated venues around Woodinville, including listening to live music from the gigantic fireplace at Willows Lodge, and picking up two bottles of wine at Chateau Ste Michelle for when our friends and my family come over during the holiday. (We only really keep wine in the house when we have company! Even though we live in a neighborhood that holds a record for the most wine tasting rooms per square foot or something!)

Glenn and I with our big Christmas tree

So, we watched all the holiday favorite movies and specials, decorated two trees (my new tradition of having a winter Snow Queen tree, and the regular one which is full of foxes and hedgehogs and peacocks) and tried not to eat at all the day after Thanksgiving—except Glenn did do a wine tasting! I even wrote a couple of poems.

I appreciate that I live in a beautiful place, with apples hanging off the leafless trees in November, where we can stop at three different places less than a mile away that offer parties and live music and wine tastings and gorgeous landscaping. I actually appreciated a quiet, no-stress holiday. I missed the hustle and bustle and company, but on the other hand, there are benefits, especially with MS, to taking it easy when you can, and trying to enjoy the little things.

 

Snow Queen Tree

What Are You Wishing For?

I am getting to the age where I think of the holidays with not as much anticipation as nostalgia. Do you remember when you used to make lists for Christmas, when you looked forward to that one toy or a pony or you wished to become a cat? (That last one was me.)

As adults, we wish for different kinds of things. Good health, good friends, world peace. The car and house not breaking down at important moments. It’s all quotidian. One of the good things about being a poet is the idea that we can still have our dreams come true – we might win that one book prize, the MacArthur Genius Grant, whatever. One of my  dream journals sent me an acceptance and it was from one of my dream poetry people. I applied for one of those big things I always felt too insignificant to apply for and I am really trying not to get my hopes up (but if you want to send some good energy my way, you are welcome)! I just found out I had a poem from my newest manuscript – “Self-Portrait as Pretty Monster” – nominated for a Pushcart – thanks to Vince Gotera and Star*Line! I’ve been nominated for the Pushcart before, but again, I try not to be cynical – hey, it could be my year?

I try not to stress out about my health which is so up and down but I want to get these two poetry books out while I can still walk with a cane and think reasonably. MS is so unpredictable. I’m pretty proactive about trying to do the best for my health, but not everything’s under my control (a fact that makes me somewhat anxious as a person who likes to be in control of things). Poetry and Health – both are out of my control, actually. The health of myself or my husband or my loved ones – we don’t really get to control the timing of when bad things happen. We don’t control when good things happen, either. It’s enough to wish, I guess.

Apples on leafless trees

Welcome to December!

Winter seems to have arrived early here, frost on the porch early in the morning, frozen hummingbird feeders, and legitimately cold temperatures that require an honest-to-goodness sweater-and-coat combo. It seems like this year went too fast, didn’t it? I made up a collage of pictures of this year – AWP in Portland in March, my 25th Anniversary trip to Snoqualmie Falls and then the Oregon Coast, get-togethers with friends and family. Not as many adventures as I would have liked, but also slightly fewer hospital trips than the previous two years, too, thank goodness. We have one last month to make good memories in 2019.

Anna’s hummingbird

And what is on tap for next year, 2020? A new decade? New wishes, new dreams? Hummingbirds always seem like good luck, don’t they? I like the do some positive meditations this time of year – different than my more achievement-oriented New Year’s resolutions – about the things I’m hoping will happen in the year to come. I’m wishing you a happy December, wishing you light, peace, love, and as many books by the fireplace as you want.

—

Welcome to the Holidays, Mary Ruefle, Lizzo, and Another Round of Revision and Thinking of Poets and Charisma

Glenn and I among gold stars at Molbaks

Welcome to the Holidays!

Yes, I can’t believe it’s almost the end of 2019 already. Thanksgiving is almost upon us. This year we are spending it alone for the first time in years, and since I’m still recovering from a bad ankle sprain and a sinus/bronchitis thing, it’s just as well. We’ll spend the day in bed watching Thanksgiving shows and only making the foods we actually like.

The holidays can be stressful, so I like to find unconventional ways to celebrate. I love going to see the holiday lights at Bellevue Botanical Gardens, or imagining a winter snow queen themed Christmas tree. (Lots of owls, arctic foxes, and icicles?) I like trying new spins on regular recipes (gluten-free, of course.) This year, we’ve already done a practice run on pumpkin flan with maple caramel (thanks Ina Garten) and green beans and snap peas in a mustard vinaigrette, as well as a cornbread bread pudding with cranberries, apple, figs, chicken liver, and fennel. Poached pears have become a favorite breakfast item since the fall rolled in. Since I’m a little anemic this year (see: chicken liver,) I’m thinking of doing a drumstick only Thanksgiving (they have more iron than the breast.)

It can also be a great time to catch up on down time – music, movies and yes, reading and writing. What have you been putting off? For me, it’s another round of revision on my two circulating poetry book manuscripts, and I’m reading a book on writing memoir. I’ve also had a chance to listen to some new music and watch a few movies I missed in the theater.

Mary Ruefle is a Bad Kisser?

Mary Ruefle and Rebecca Hoogs, SAL

I got a chance to see Mary Ruefle read some poetry and prose and do a Q&A at SAL this week. Getting downtown was a nightmare, which reminded me why we don’t go downtown very often, and the building didn’t have any handicapped parking and was a million miles from any kind of parking, and getting to the hall the reading was in the required using an elevator that tried to kill me with crazed hard-slamming doors, but I was happy I made it. Mary Ruefle was very funny and I liked her prose work on friendship almost as much as I liked her poetry.

During the Q&A, someone asked her why she was a bad kisser (a reference to one of her poems.) She said “I find it boring. There are just so many better ways to spend your time. I’d much rather be reading and writing.” Well, there you go then.

Glenn and I pose at the candy shoppe theme at Molbaks

Music, Lizzo, and Movies

One thing that the downtime of the holidays allows is listening to some new music. I had heard Lizzo in the background of things – the radio, movies, commercials – but I had never taken the time to listen to her whole album or research anything about her. She got a degree in music, studying classical flute, after which she spent a year homeless, living out of her car. Eventually she got to work with Prince and made a lot of good impressions in the music industry, with her bubbly personality (charisma!)  and such upbeat, pop-soul-funk songs. I love nearly every song on Cuz I Love You, her latest album, and recommend everyone listen to it every morning. It’s very empowering, amusing, and fun.

I’m also looking forward to seeing some movies I missed in the theater, like The Goldfinch and Downtown Abbey. I already watched Where’d You Go Bernadette in the theater, but the second viewing really drove home the strong relationship it depicted between a slightly “different” daughter and her anxious architect mother. In the theaters, Frozen 2 and the last Star Wars Rise of Skywalker are bound to be big hits. I’ll also keep my eye out for interesting art pics that often come out this time of year. I feel like I watch more movies between Thanksgiving and Christmas than I do the whole rest of the year – darkness and rain tend to encourage this, along with more reading and writing. (And maybe, more kissing. Hey, I’m no Mary Ruefle – I like kissing at least as much as reading and writing, I will admit.)

New (prescription) sunglasses with fall leaves, sun

Another Round of Revision

This shot of Glenn and I in sunlight is probably the last we’ll see of the sun – it was taken this week, and for the Thanksgiving holiday, we are looking forward to (brrr) snow! Glenn and I both realized that our prescriptions were seven years old (!) and needed to update our old frames as well. I wanted to have some fun with our glasses. Hey, did you know Seattle sells more sunglasses than almost any other city?

So, what do we do in the dark? Do we wallow in our rejections? No. We get moving on another project. In my case, it’s the decision to really tighten both manuscripts that are circulating right now, one about being diagnosed with cancer, then MS, and solar weather, and the other about politics, witches, feminism, and monsters. I really believe these two books represent the best work I’ve done thus far, but I’m getting lots of “close” responses but not a lot of “yes.” Usually this means I still need to write some poems, get rid of others, and streamline the manuscripts.

It’s tough to be looking at my sixth and seventh books, and still feel like I haven’t quite “made” it. Like I still need to reach a little bigger audience, land a little more prestigious (and promotion-and-distribution friendly) press, I joked on social media this week that I wish we, like fiction and non-fiction writers, could approach big-deal publishers with just an elevator pitch instead of a $30 check and a 6-12 month wait to hear whether we are winners or losers. The whole process is so debilitatingly depressing, dehumanizing, etc. I wish more of the big publishers would just read poetry book samples with no fee. FSG? Graywolf? Norton? I wish more poetry publishers would actually promote the books in their catalogue. I’ve got a lot of wishes…

Sylvia with PR for Poets

Poets and Charisma

I did have some little pieces of good news this week, including a personal note from Tracy K. Smith, one of my poetry heroes, and some other secret news I can’t share but was surprising. And I had a great bracing talk with another poet friend about shaping a poetry manuscript and how we think we need to unravel the story of the book versus what we really do need to reveal.

We also talked about selling 10,000 poetry books – a feat I mention in my book PR for Poets that at least three poets (all male) I’ve known have accomplished. All three of those poets had – not perfect looks, or a lot of insider connections – but amazing personal charisma. When you talk to them, you feel a burst of light, as if all their energy is focused on you for that moment. We discussed whether I knew any women who had sold that many books that had that kind of charisma. I think the first woman I thought of was Dorianne Laux – you can barely move through a crowd when Dorianne shows up. Everyone loves her. People’s poetry can reflect that inner personality but having personal charisma will never hurt your poetry sales at a reading, or in general. What woman poets (besides the Instapoets) do you think have “10,000” book charisma? I was thinking…Ada Limon, maybe? Carolyn Forche? Marie Howe? Tracy K. Smith?

One problem is that, unlike men, a lot of women with charisma get penalized as being “slutty” or “crazy” – I’ve heard male poets, especially, using these terms disparagingly about big name female poets, which is disappointing (and this conversation seems strangely, depressingly familiar to the one we’re having about Presidents – one poll said 50 percent (!) of men “felt uncomfortable” with any woman as President. Ugh.) To avoid this, a woman has to avoid being overly sexy, overly emotional, or even being perceived in those ways. Way more work for us than it should be.

Anyway, here’s to revision, finding a great poetry press home for our manuscripts, and becoming charismatic poets!  Cozy up with a good book, maybe buy a few for your friends and family (ahem, see here and here,) and have a happy holiday!

 

Notes from November, How to Cheer Yourself Up and Stave Off SAD, and Surviving Being an Idiosyncratic Woman Writer

Pink Rhododendron Confusion in November

Notes from November – Confused Flowers, Impeachments, etc.

Hey everyone! How’s your November going? Me, I’ve been in the grip of an evil cough/sore throat/fever thing and a pretty bad sprained ankle, which has left me chilling at home with soup and tea when I’d rather be out and about, going to readings, visiting with friends, or, you know, anything besides being stuck at home with my foot up.

On the plus side, my pink rhododendron thinks it’s spring, despite several frosts proving the contrary. The season seems confused. We’ve had less rain this November than we did in September – but the month will still throw a surprise lightning or hail storm at you, and it’s easy to feel gloomy when it gets dark at 4 PM. Damn time change.

Mt Rainier sunset

This picture of the sun setting over Mt. Rainier in my neighborhood was taken right before 4 PM. I’ve been watching a little bit of the impeachment hearings every day – not hours of them, but little slivers. I realized this is the third impeachment of my lifetime – Nixon resigned about a year after I was born, the Clinton impeachment happened in my early twenties when I was too busy with work and school to notice it, so this is the first time I’ve really had the opportunity to pay attention to how the American system works. However, the whole process seems pretty depressing. Besides that I’m reading about Russian gulags in the book I’m reading on Cold War women spies  – in the really fun (otherwise) tale of the birth of the book/movie Dr. Zhivago,  The Secrets We Kept – it occurred to me that I am not doing enough to protect myself from the evils of seasonal depression (or writer depression, or MS-related depression.) All the magazines I’m reading right now are all about celebrating “Hygge” – the Danish idea of keeping yourself sane during the long winters by cultivating an atmosphere of coziness – and talk about how to cheer yourself up this time of year. There is a reason there are so many traditional holidays in almost all cultures at this time of year – drinking and eating and spending time and lights with loved ones can help keep you from feeling the blues.

Glenn and I clowning around at Molbaks

How to Cheer Yourself Up – A Guide to Avoiding SAD in Seattle

Just kidding, I don’t really have all the answers for this. I know it involves getting outside and getting fresh air whenever possible – a little harder when it’s cold and rainy and one is fighting off an evil germ and sprained ankle. I know that trying to eat nutritious seasonal food is part of it – poaching pearrs, making butternut squash soup, drinking hot chocolate and cider, etc. I’m going to a therapist monthly these days – it’s supposed to help the anxiety I’ve developed since the whole cancer/liver tumor/MS nightmare thing, and also keep me from constantly bombarding the people in my social circle with medical stories, and in general it’s recommended for people who feel depressed and anxious.

Glenn and I pose at Molbaks in their winter owl wonderland

I am including these pictures of another of my methods for cheering myself up – a trip to a brightly decorated for the holidays (these two tableaux – snowy arctic owl and patisserie – may not be traditional for the Christmas holidays, but they are really fun ideas) neighborhood gardening store called Molbaks and enjoying their displays. (I always come home with a new plant and a present for someone. This time it was poinsettias and ornaments for my mom.)  It’s a wonderful source of inspiration during the gardening time of year – since I’m not really a Seattle native, I’m still learning what plants and trees grow well around here.

Another is watching Christmas episodes of my favorite comedies, like Community and 30 Rock, and enjoying holiday-themed movies.  And reading books of poetry that make you feel happy – even if the poetry itself is kind of depressing – is a really good coping mechanism, in my opinion. Hygge is all about blankets and candles and eating (candy) and enjoying things like board games. Does it work? I don’t know. But it probably can’t hurt. Also cats. Snuggling floofy animals certainly can’t hurt.

On Being an Idiosyncratic Woman Writer

I posted a post on Facebook about coming to the realization, as I was doing poetry submissions of my poems and books, that perhaps my poetry is not going to be for everyone. Here’s what I wrote:

“Sometimes when I’m doing poetry submissions I get insight into why not everyone wants to publish my poetry: it’s funny, but in a dark way; the worldview is pretty depressing; it’s environmental, but not in a warm-and-fuzzy way, more in a mother-nature-is-a-scary-avenging angel way. It’s feminist, but also not in an easy, “dancing in a circle celebrating menses” way. I mean, I write love poems, but not a ton. Anyway, I recognize I’m not an easy, feel-good poet. I’m not a Netflix holiday romantic comedy. I get it. I’m the indie movie your film friend recommended and then you’re like “Why did she make me see that?” But still, I’ll probably try knocking at your door, poetry editors…”

When Sylvia Plath complained in her letters and journals about not getting publishing enough or not getting recognition, she doesn’t seem to realize her writing might be off-putting to the conservative patriarchal poetry world that was on the rise in her lifetime – her husband was being actively encouraged by T.S. Eliot for goodness’ sake, while she could barely get a mentor. Virginia Woolf, before Sylvia, suffered because she lacked getting enough critical attention for her ground-breaking fiction – but her style is just now being recognized as genius and ground-breaking. I just read in a British magazine that Daphne du Maurier – one of my favorite gothic fiction writers from my childhood – is regaining a reputation as a fine literary writer after years as being denigrated as a writer of trashy horror/romances and PhD students are newly studying her archives. I read an article about Margaret Atwood where she talked about self-publishing her first book of poetry and  hand-selling it to bookstores; she didn’t write The Handmaid’s Tale, which shot her to fame, until she was in her forties – my age, in fact. I mean, my writer heroines – such as they are, a motley crew – have never really had an easy time of it, especially early, even if they had more success than I’ve had in my lifetime yet. So I’ve got to remember that my writer heroines struggled and suffered and continued to write and send out their work even in an unfriendly hour, at an unfriendly time.  I will continue to write what I write and send it out into the world, hoping it will find its audience.

 

 

New Poems in Sycorax Review, November Gloom, and Waiting for Magic

November Sunset

November Gloom

Hello from the other side of the time change! We’ve been strangely dry and cold here in Seattle, with beautiful sunsets. November can be tough, as it tends to get dark here around 4 PM. We Seattle-types get out our cardigans and our coffee, and huddle up.

It’s a good time for writing and reading, and I’ve been reading the Cold War novel The Secrets We Kept, about three women involved with the story Dr. Zhivago, as well as some new poetry books. I’ve been listening to new music and watching old movies, a good combination for poetry writing.

Sylvia on Sylvia Plath

I was also remembering that I received my copy of Sylvia Plath’s complete letters on this day last year, and I’m finally finishing it! I tried to read the whole thing at once, but it’s a bit overwhelming for the mood, so I’ve been delving in bits. Sylvia the kitten is helping me finish the book, as you can see to the left. Sylvia’s letters remind me that the feeling of needing to “make it” by a certain age is a certain kind of tyranny. I wrote in my last post about her extreme anxiety about having an expiration date, about never meeting the standards she held herself to, of no amount of success being enough. And also her difficulties being taken seriously as a woman writer. She was ahead of her time, born too early for her to find her real audiences, but unable to settle in comfortably to a life she found frustrating and constricting. It was hard to “make it” as a woman poet then, and it still is today. How to stay vigilant against despair?

Red Leaves with statues at Bellevue Botanical Gardens

Two New Poems in Sycorax Review

One piece of good poetry news this month is that I had two poems published in the latest issue of Sycorax Review: “Self-Portrait as Magician” and “When She Goes Dark.”  A big thank you to Sandi Leibowitz for including my work in the issue.

 

Here’s a sneak peek at the poem “Self-Portrait as Magician:”

 

from Sycorax Review

 

Mysterious deer, by daylight

Waiting for Magic

Despite the November gloom, and a persistent cold, I woke this morning feeling unaccountable optimistic. A few days ago, I twittered about being up late at night, watching my e-mails for unexpected good news. In some ways, we writers are all waiting for a little magic.

This mysterious deer figure showed up in the area around my neighborhood has week, and this week, I discovered its real function: it sparkles!

This reminded me of the magic we can find all around us if we just pay attention. Or, hope springs eternal, even in November.

Mysterious deer, at night

After a bit of a pause, I’ve started sending out my two book manuscripts again. I’ve been sort of picky about which publishers I’m sending it to so it’s been a slow process. It’s been almost exactly three years since my last poetry book came out, and I’m ready for the next one to be in the world again. I just need to find a publisher. It’s always hard, the sending out and the waiting, the months of fretting and alternating getting hopeful and depressed. You need a good support system to stay balanced, being a writer, especially being a poet, which few people in America take seriously and even fewer really values. Sylvia lacked this support system – she married an unreliable man, and moved away from family and friends. I’m lucky to have good friends and a terrific husband, in a city that’s no London but tries to, at least, make an effort to value art and poetry and music.

We’re heading towards the holidays. I heard Christmas music somewhere today and saw racks of food magazines specifically marketing pumpkin recipes. The holidays can be both utterly delightful and utterly depressing. The pressure! The obligations! The pumpkin recipes! (I actually like a good pumpkin recipe, but I’m still baffled by the number of magazines offering new takes on pumpkin recipes!)

Hummingbird on late roses

The hummingbirds have gotten very flutterly lately, in the cold, dancing around the last flowers and available hummingbird feeders. The hummingbirds stubbornly see out the cold season here and in a way we manage the same way. I am writing, editing, and sending out work trying to stay warm in a cold season, drinking cider and listening to my sad music and reading novels into the night (I have terrible insomnia during time-change season). What drives us to survive? To try to create beauty, or even just to notice beauty, in a world that often seems to try to trample it, or ignore it? We wait for magic. We might even create our own.

 

Happy Halloween, Midlife Musings on Sylvia Plath and Why I Still Blog, and Spooky Poems and Art at Roq La Rue

Unicorn pumpkin on our porch

Happy Halloween!

Are you a fan of Halloween? I like dressing up (this year I’m the Violet Witch with raven and Glenn is going as a Steampunk chemist) and seeing all the kids in their costumes and handing out candy. I like watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, and the greatest horror movie of all time, Killer Shrews (MST3K edition, of course). I like making pumpkin bread and some kind of soup for Halloween dinner, with lots of hot cider

 

Happy Halloween from Steampunk Chemist and Violet Witch with pet raven

I think most horror movies are predicable and therefore, comforting in a weird way, more so than all those Hallmark Christmas movies that have already started airing (!), I like things that go bump in the night. I like ghost stories. I mean, if you know me, you know I write horror poetry, so, none of this is a surprise.

I know a lot of my friends in California are having a hard time celebrating with huge winds and dangerous wildfires raging in both north and southern California right now. It’s just horrifying (and not in a good way) and I am wishing you all safety and health.

Spooky Poems and Art at Roq La Rue

Me at Roq La Rue with Josie Morway’s piece from “Acquired Tastes,” “Slick”

One of my favorite galleries in Seattle, Roq La Rue, always has Halloween-appropriate goth-y art (their brand is “pop surrealism” and it is always surprising and awesome). I was excited to finally (after being down with a mean bug for the opening) get down to their show, “Acquired Tastes,” by an artist I already admired, Josie Morway, who does wonderful true-to-life animal paintings, always with something a bit off about them. There was also an amazing mural of hummingbirds (surreal hummingbirds) by Jeff Jacobsen. I just love being around such fantastic art. It brings me great writing ideas, and makes me appreciate being in a unique city like Seattle. And seeing art cheers me up, even dark-symbolist art.

 

And if you’re feeling in the mood for some spooky poems, check out this poem that was published earlier this year in Star*Line, “Self-Portrait as Pretty Monster.” This is part of the manuscript I’m shopping around (which will hopefully be taken soon by a great publisher!)

Red Maple from our yard

Midlife Musings on Sylvia Plath and Why I Still Blog

It was Sylvia Plath’s birthday this week and this got me thinking about women’s age, midlife goals and stresses, and the publishing world. Reading Plath’s complete letters and journals in the last couple of years, you really get a sense of Plath’s ambition – and a lot of thwarted ambition at that. She felt closed in by the expectations on her of women, of mothers, and some of that was well-founded (see: Marianne Moore’s letter refusing her Guggenheim because she reproduced. True story. She also hurt Gwendolyn Brooks’ career advancement. Dang.)

The question is: is a middle-aged woman today better off than in Sylvia Plath’s day? Well, we have birth control (though of course some politicians and states would prefer that we not have it), and we have slightly better mental health care. We don’t have better financial support of writers – she didn’t want to teach, so made her living freelance writing and winning contests and getting scholarships and fellowships, and therefore was pretty much always struggling. I know a lot of women writers in her position (and that’s what I try to do too, although I’m a much worse grant-writer).

We are still held to weird levels of examination over our looks, morals, and the way we navigate social mores in ways that men aren’t. I can say as a woman over forty – and having lots of friends in that group as well – that you have to shout a bit harder to be heard in a crowd as a female after 40, in the literary world, especially if you aren’t “connected,” the “hot new thing,” don’t live in NYC, etc. I am currently shopping around two manuscripts and it feels hard. I have five published books, and it still feels like I’m banging at a wall that says “no girls allowed” or “only the right girls allowed,” perhaps. It feels hard to get blurbs and reviews, it feels hard to get books out in front of readers, it feels easier sometimes to just…give up.  Sylvia Plath was sixteen years younger than me when she died. If she had made it to 46, would she have produced wonderful books that we can only imagine, or perhaps had the opportunity to mentor other women writers or be mentored, or become only more and more frustrated by the way she couldn’t seem to achieve the things she thought she needed to achieve?

One of the reasons I review books is to bring attention to women writers, writers of color and writers with disabilities. It’s a small way to keep those groups in the spotlight.  One of the reasons why I still blog despite the overwhelming advances of Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram to destroy it is because I like having a long-form place to talk about writing, life, books, inspiration, discouragement, etc. It just doesn’t exist in those other places. Also, as a sort of sickly and disabled writer (what with the immune system deficiency and multiple sclerosis and all), it provides a much-needed way to connect to friends, family, and readers when I can’t make it out to various towns across the country to see them personally, to do as many readings or conferences, and also, for some, just an update on how I’m doing. It’s also a way to keep memories or a record of things I care about (birds, flowers, etc.). Hey, we can’t rely on Facebook to provide all our memories for us – I’m convinced Facebook is headed for obsolescence faster than we think.

Sylvia was an obsessive journal keeper and letter-writer – way more pages by the time she was 30 than I’ve written in my entire life – and we have that information because she left a written record. By the way, I hope you enjoy the linked radio interview with Plath I included below – just hearing her odd accent and her obvious desire to impress with her intelligence rather than her looks – is very revealing.

Happy birthday, Sylvia. I hope you can see now how you made a difference, how you earned not only respect, but an admiring following. You were not allowed to go extinct. And for the rest of us, let’s celebrate this holiday and try to be brave as we face November’s scary drear!

Jeannine Hall Gailey

Jeannine Hall Gailey
Jeannine Hall Gailey is a writer with MS who served as the second Poet Laureate of Redmond, Washington and is the author of Becoming the Villainess, She Returns to the Floating World, Unexplained Fevers, The Robot Scientist’s Daughter, winner of the Moon City Press Book Prize, Field Guide to the End of the World, and the upcoming Flare, Corona from BOA Editions. 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 Ploughshares.

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