My Review of Banana Palace, a Poem from Field Guide to the End of the World, and Thanksgiving Rituals, Conflict, and the Idea of Family

My review of Dana Levin’s apocalyptic new book of poetry from Copper Canyon Press, Banana Palace, is up at The Rumpus here. The combination of frightening, weird, and entertaining makes for great holiday weekend reading.

A poem from Field Guide to the End of the World that seems appropriate for our time:

butitwasanaccident

Thanksgiving, Rituals, Conflict, and the Idea of Family

It seems Thanksgiving is almost here, and many of us are thinking about our families and maybe some of us are feeling conflicted. I usually love holidays and rituals but Thanksgiving doesn’t really give me a lot of warm fuzzies right now.  A lot of my memories of Thanksgiving involve stomach aches from the fights my parents would get into, usually in front of a good amount of company I didn’t know well. Also, if any one asks me to count my blessings right now, I’d probably have a strong urge to smack them in the face. Sometimes you have to be honest and say, “Hey. I’m not feeling warm and fuzzy right now. I feel fear and grief and anger.” Maybe we can toss the rituals that don’t belong any more. Maybe we can make new, better rituals.

This Thanksgiving Glenn and I will be celebrating with my little brother and his wife, which will be good – we’ve missed them as they’ve spent some of the last few years traveling out of the country, which I sort of envy. Glenn is a terrific cook and we have started a tradition of eating duck for Thanksgiving (which, let’s face it, is way better than turkey, especially as leftovers.) Maybe we’ll have a Stranger Things Season 2 marathon (Yes, I finally succumbed and just ordered Netflix for the very first time.) Coming back to a sort of altered ritual can be healing – it’s not the stressful, heated holiday I remember, but hopefully one where we can gather and have fun and yes, try and be thankful, and oh yeah, only make the Thanksgiving things you actually want to eat. Toss out the things that don’t work, and keep what does.

I was thinking about the meaning of family. What if you have a family you can’t agree with (not just in politics, though that seems especially highlighted right now with an election that left some of us squarely lined up against others) or just a toxic family overall. a family that doesn’t make you feel loved or supported or accepted? Unfortunately, I think it’s very common.

I encourage us to all think hard this Thanksgiving about who has truly been our family in the sense of making us feel secure, loved, and accepted, and reaching out to those people and thanking them for their support and friendship. Bake some cookies, send a note. I can think of ten people right off the top of my head who made me feel better when I was diagnosed with metastatic cancer earlier this year, people who took the time and effort to reach out to me when I needed them the most. Those people were mostly not people related to me. In a way, that’s sad, but in a way, it shouldn’t surprise us at all – the bonds of modern life shift around us, and merely being related to someone doesn’t guarantee that they will love us, or us them. But the little kindnesses of people that life has thrown in our paths – roommates and coworkers, neighbors and friends – can illuminate our lives, and right now feels like it’s important to remember those kindnesses. Also, people who have been through a major crisis – like cancer or other scary illnesses – have tended to offer the kind of support that I really needed. I know they are tired and fighting their own fights every day, so it’s been inspiring.

And speaking of inspiring…I recently have been spending time with some people that have been really inspiring – a visual artist I’ve been corresponding with for almost ten years, celebrating another writer’s book launch that included beautiful band music – and the awareness that this writer has made it to almost every one of my book launch events since I met her. Meeting with new poet friends to discuss poetry, I appreciate the sincerity and good-heartedness of the writers I’ve met in Seattle. I’m having over another artist friend next week.

This has been a particularly difficult season of a particularly difficult year, and I want to do what I can to create light. Sometimes we can feel powerless in the face of evil. But we are not powerless. We can be there for each other, we can donate our money to causes we believe in, volunteer. Buy art, buy books, write a review.  Befriend someone new. Go out to lunch with an old friend you’ve neglected. And if you have relatives who have been supportive and there for you, yeah, go give them a hug, or at least a phone call.  This year has left me without a lot of time or energy, but I hope I’m being kind to people in the face of their struggles, as kind as people have been to me.

My wish for you this next week is for you to find the family you need – whether that family be the one you were born into, or the one you’ve created for yourself. I often think we find our mothers, brothers, sisters all around us when we look. We cannot overcome evil alone. The hate I’ve seen screaming through the news reports is enough to make anyone retreat into solitude and Netflix. But we are more powerful together.

Post-Election Blues, Reading in Port Townsend, and Lying Next to James Franco

It’s been a rough week for a lot of us. A trip up to Port Townsend two days after the election required that I rally myself, pick out some poems, and go out into the world.
The drive/ferry up to Port Townsend takes about three hours. On the way up, we were rewarded with sunshine, blue water, and plenty of wildlife – our day trip wildlife count included a playful otter, one seal, sassy kingfishers, two bald eagles singing and gurgling to each other as they sat as a couple in a pine tree on the beach, many many deer, basically more wildlife than I see in a week in Woodinville. I was late, but made it in time to have dinner with poet friends before the reading, which was wonderful. The ocean, the mountains, and the warm and welcoming people of Port Townsend made this reading trip – though slightly grueling physically – a pleasure. A pleasure that seemed really necessary, a reminder that there is beauty in nature, and in humanity.

The crowd at the Northwind series at the Northwest Arts Center was full of old friends as well as Facebook friends I’d never seen in person, and surprisingly, lots of strangers (God bless Port Townsend’s poetry-loving culture.) Instead of depressed and discouraged, a lot of the folks spoke about how they were ready to take on the challenge, the young people defiant, the older folks confident that we would overcome what seems like an absolute win for everything bad in America. The reading went well, the audience laughed and bought books, there were lots of hugs. One person said the poems from Field Guide to the End of the World were exactly what America needed at this point in time. That made me feel good – like maybe poetry could make a little difference, after all. (Because I’d been feeling the opposite the last few days…) I’ll try to have a link to the recording Glenn took up soon.

Another little happy thing was a friend (Thanks Michael Schmeltzer!) who snapped a pic on Twitter of my book next to James Franco’s at his local Barnes and Nobles. I made the joke that this is probably the only time anyone will see my lying next to James Franco!
mybookatwestwoodbnmichael112016

I also want to remind you to vote in the semifinalist round at the Goodreads Choice Book Awards for Field Guide to the End of the World if you liked it. Only two more days left to vote!

 

Dark Election Night, Goodreads Semifinalist Voting, Okay Ophelia, Aimee Mann and a Reading Tomorrow in Port Townsend

Wow. Last night was rough. I cried, starting at about 8 PM Pacific. I couldn’t sleep, and when I could, I had nightmares about rape and guns and Donald Trump’s face twisted with anger. I wrote a post on Facebook describing how gutted I was at the revelation that America was so racist, misogynist, and charmed with a man who was a tax-dodger who can’t speak a coherent sentence, that so many would rather vote for an unqualified evil man that mocks and hates people different than myself, than a much more qualified, intelligent woman. I felt hated, invisible, that as a woman and rape-victim I was always going to be ignored and marginalized, and how my friends who are people of color, LGBT, disabled, or immigrants must feel what I felt times ten. I felt betrayed by Christian voters who turned out in droves to vote for someone who is the opposite of what Christ stood for, in fact, pretty much the embodiment of the seven deadly sins, plus stupidity and crudeness.  I wrote about how useless I felt all my teaching and poetry work seemed to me in the face of such hatred and ignorance. (Especially the message of my first book, which was literally that our culture turns every woman with any power into a villainess. Right? Did anyone even read that?) But this morning, despite the sleepless night, I felt that poetry maybe could do something, maybe shine a light. Here are two poems I posted there that are worth reading – June Jordan’s Poem About My Rights and Lucille Clifton’s Won’t You Celebrate with Me. May their voices be heard and not forgotten.

This is much less important that yesterday’s election, but in a small victory, my newest book Field Guide to the End of the World has made it to the semifinalist level in the Goodreads Choice Awards, and I’d really appreciate your vote. This round only lasts til November 13, so go vote. May it make more difference than my last vote did!
https://www.goodreads.com/choiceawards/best-poetry-books-2016

I’m reading tomorrow with Sally Albiso in Port Townsend for the the Northwind series at 7 PM at the Northwest Arts Center. Beforehand I’m meeting up with some poet friend for what is hopefully a consoling and cheering dinner. Northwind readings are always good, too. If you’re in or around Port Townsend, please come out and say hi! I’ll be reading VERY appropriate poems from my new book, Field Guide to the End of the World, and maybe this one from my first book, that also seems appropriate for our times.

Okay, Ophelia

We’ve heard you were a victim.
Stop crouching in shadows, chewing your hair.

You can be graceful, not like a ballerina,
like a hedge of coral,

built up and eaten and worn down
yet alive, carving the rhythms of the seas.

You can be a threshing sledge,
new and sharp with many teeth.

This song from Aimee Mann seems apropos as well. Comfort and peace and love to you, my friends. The America that spoke in that election is not my America. Donald Trump does not represent me. Racist and misogyny, hatred and ignorance may have won the election, but we are not going to accept that as the new American way. There are a LOT of us. We will not be silent.

Poems from Field Guide to the End of the World: “Martha Stewart’s Guide to the End Times” Plus Some November Cheer

Yes, it does feel a bit like the apocalypse out there these days. My last post was a little heavy. So, to add a little levity to your political/life/strife and time-change/SAD-ness,  here’s a poem from my new book, Field Guide to the End of the World.

Martha Stewart’s Guide to the End Times

Of course you know I love those little drones, so I’ve stockpiled them. Those and lemons. I’ve learned the hard way that life without lemons is barely worth living.

Animal husbandry 101: Fill your own organic pantry. Which breed of chicken will give you the best eggs under stress? Pg. 13.

Leave the fondant til later. You can always do a ganache topping for your cupcakes in a pinch. So simple!

Evacuation map for New York City, Boston, the Hamptons, with scratch-and-sniff icons: page 24.

Survival skills are just like hostess skills: a little preparation, a little spying (with the drones,) a little determined defense-driven hedging of the grounds. Razor wire goes beautifully with your holly thicket.

Guide to storing munitions in attractive wicker boxes: page 52.

If your water isn’t as clear as it should be, use up those charcoal filters first, but after, try a solid iodine tablet in your home-dug well. In these times, it’s a good thing.

Culinary tips for after the mega-store raid: mixed nuts have a long shelf life. Throw in a little rosemary and toast them over an open flame for anytime elegance. More ideas for those family-sized tubs of popcorn: page 68.

Now’s the time to get out your hurricane lamps! They create a lovely glow in these last days.

Here are some more cheerful thoughts – we had two straight days of November sunlight, so we went out, did some gardening (very Martha Stewart-ish,) baked cranberry-apple muffins, checked out the Bellevue Botanical Gardens where I captured some still-blooming white fushcias and Glenn snapped a pic of me with the leaves still turning. Plus, our cats Shakespeare and Sylvia decide the weekend is for sleeping in on – not reading – magazines! It’s a struggle not to smile when ragdolls decide it’s time for you to pay attention to them!

New review of Robot Scientist’s Daughter, new poem in Interfictions, Lucia Perillo, and Dark Days

First, the good stuff!

Happy to have a new poem up at Interfictions called “Serendipity” (and yes, it references the sort of mediocre romantic comedy of the same name, and also has a line from the show “Community” and a reference to The Last Unicorn. Points if you can find them all!)

Thanks to Jannell McConnell Parsons and CrossTalk CellPress for this lovely – and science-minded – review of my fourth book, The Robot Scientist’s Daughter, along with Natasha K. Moni’s The Cardiologist’s Daughter –  here: http://crosstalk.cell.com/blog/the-poetry-of-nuclear-physics-and-cardiology

Dark Days

It’s the beginning of November, when the bright leaves of Seattle’s extremely brief fall have been blown away and the dark pretty non-metaphorically begins taking over. It’s dark when you wake, dark when you go to sleep, and often dark in between. The rain, which becomes ever-present this time of year, is cold – not midwest or northeastern cold, just cold enough to make you feel a little miserable, to make your face hurt and your lungs work harder to keep up.

After the death of Brigit Pegeen Kelly last month, Lucia Perillo, local (and terrific) poet, essayist and novelist – who started out as a wildlife biologist and became a writer after being diagnosed with MS at midlife – has passed away. She was tough, and funny. Her work – not just her poems, but her essays, and when I saw her speak – was breathtaking in its intelligence and bravery. She was a true inspiration as a writer and a person. Go read her work! “The body tells a story/ mostly about loss.” (From “Rotator Cuff Vortex.”) She has great things to say about responding to the question: “How are you doing” and not saying “fine,” about having a body – and then losing a body, slowly – that allowed her to paddle across lakes and climb mountains. She talked about disability in a way that helped me when I was stuck in a wheelchair and unable to process what was happening to me.

And it’s not just the loss of these two poets. I also lost a family member this week. This is on top of dealing with the unknowns of a metastasized cancer diagnosis that highly paid specialists cannot agree on how to treat, having a new neurologist tell me that my neural-lesion-related motor skill loss, difficulty with proprioception, and foot and hand numbness were permanent but it was obvious I was “working hard’ at physical therapy to help these problems (yeah, no doubt, I’ve been going once a week for six years, so hooray, finally some minor improvement!)  and of course the terror that is modern politics. (I’ve already voted, and I can’t tell you the feeling of sheer relief I felt when I got that voting ballot in the mail.)

I’ve found myself unmotivated to write or send out work in a way that’s unfamiliar to me. Maybe this year’s unfortunate surprises have started to wear on me. I actually bought a magazine yesterday because it had an article on planning “end of life” stuff. I read Max Ritvo’s pretty amazing Four Reincarnations – which is beautiful, but maybe not the best thing to read when you’re pretty sure you’re dying of cancer – the author died of cancer at 25 right before his first book was published by Milkweed. I don’t know if I’ve been processing the bad news enough, or maybe trying to ignore it a lot.  I have a life-long survival skill of focusing on the good stuff whenever possible, but there are times when you kind of have to face the bad stuff, too. I don’t know what to do next, because I feel unable to plan for the first time in a long time. I’m the kind of person who plans things out in advance, who likes to be prepared. And now I have to prepare for…what? The unknown, mystery. I’ve never been very comfortable with the unknown, even though I’m a poet and love Jung and the subconscious and folk tales that celebrate that dark forest path. I hope, I hope, I get a little light for the path.

Open Books Reading, Halloween-y Poem up at Women’s Voices for Change, Wonder Woman Poetry Videos, and More

Today one of the poems from the new book, “Introduction to the Body in Fairy Tales,” is featured on Women’s Voices for Change. It’s a very Halloween-appropriate poem – it was even included in The Best Horror of the Year, Volume Six!

Thanks to The University of Cincinnati and Cincinnati Review who featured my poem “Wonder Woman Dreams of the Amazon” – from my first book, Becoming the Villainess, as a video they made from one of my readings and images they put together in their first foray into video poems! Here it is. A lot of fun!

So, last night was the Seattle debut of the new book, Field Guide to the End of the World, at Open Books. We did a little reception, a little book signing, a little reading – it was really cool. Thanks to everyone who came out! Here are a few pics that Glenn snapped. It was a wonderful way to celebrate the book during a very difficult year!

I’m hosting the Twitter #poetparty tonight at 6 PM Pacific/9 PM Eastern to talk spooky and speculative poetry. Come in and join the hashtagging!

Wishing you all a happy and safe Halloween!

Apocalypse Poetry for Halloween Weekend this Saturday! Spooky Poems from Field Guide to the End of the World

Looking forward to this Saturday’s reading and reception for Field Guide to the End of the World at Open Books at 4 PM. Apocalypse-themed costumes welcomed, and festive treats (i.e. cupcakes, cheese and fruit, and sparkly celebratory drinks) will be served! I’ll read poems about the apocalypse, sure, but also about teen witches and vampires, zombies, plagues and pop-culture! This is only my second reading for the new book, and the last one I’ll do in the Seattle area for a while. (I’m reading in Port Townsend in November, but that’s a trek for most Seattle-ites!) I hope it’ll be a fun celebration and also appropriately Halloween-y. We could use some cheering up!
(And thanks to The Stranger for listing my reading on their 29 things to do this weekend on Saturday!
http://www.thestranger.com/things-to-do/2016/10/25/24649448/96-stranger-than-usual-things-to-do-in-seattle-this-week-october-25-30)

Here are a few pics from Woodinville’s October – Mt. Baker view, Chateau Ste Michelle winery grounds, fall!

In addition, I’m hosting this Sunday, the 30th’s, official Twitter #poetparty! You show up, ask questions, give advice, learn how to use hashtags correctly, etc! 6 PM Pacific/9 PM Eastern. We’re talking spooooky poems (and where to send them) in light of the Halloween holiday!

Here are a couple of poems from Field Guide to the End of the World:

Introduction to Witchcraft

Always these young women in search of power,
their eyes rolled back in their heads, midriffs exposed.
Always some girl with a candle in a dark room –
and poof, her face brightens as she achieves
some moment of bliss. The raindrops around her freeze

in midair, the wolves stop baring their fangs, and for a moment
the young girl marvels at her own invincibility.
But then it’s fire, fire, always someone with a stake or a knife
ready to do her in. She is a spark about to go out.

Introduction to Teen Girl Vampires

turn feral while defending their human boyfriends, harmless and blond
in Varsity jackets and crewcuts. These girls just want to be loved, and fed,

in that order, and can we blame them? A nurse here or there won’t be missed,
or the guy playing “second policeman.” Bram Stoker equated blood and sex,

Mina chaste and clever while hunting her Dracula down, his bite awaking
impulses that ignited and were ignored. These days, teen vampire girls enjoy sex

with abandon, tossing lovers around like tree limbs. These days, the girl
doesn’t succumb to the monster, she is the monster, teeth gleaming in the moonlight,

coquettish limbs and curls masking superpowers. Oh, she still wants to be
the prettiest girl at the prom, and perhaps she mourns some future idea

of motherhood. But men line up for the promise of her bite, her blood.
And she has nothing to fear; she cannot be broken, tarnished by age, her heart

impenetrable to anything except for that wooden stake.

They Are Not Regenerating (from the movie “Zombie Stripper Clones”)

We are not zombies, thrown into a pool
of dubious origin and coming back beautiful
but decaying
unsure of how to live – pretending to swim,
eat yogurt like regular girls.

We are not clones, despite being drawn to specifications
(36-26-36) and bearing bouffants and bikinis
we might hack each other to pieces
but we are not confused about our identities

(living or not living) we continue
in this shape we were given
our cells cannot regenerate and the scientist
names us “Dead”
we are not regenerating we cannot reproduce ourselves we cannot be anything
but the fulfillment of your fantasy, flesh-eating or not.

Brigit Pegeen Kelly, a New Review of Field Guide, Internet Attacks and Poems of the Apocalypse

First: I was so sorry to hear of the passing of the truly great poet Brigit Pegeen Kelly. I never met her in person (though reports of her kindness and generosity are widespread) but her poetry was an important discovery for me years ago and definitely an influence on my own work. Her combination of darkness, morality, and surrealism – especially in Song – are unsurpassed. If you have never read her work, see the title poem from that book, Song, here.

I meant to post this morning but the internet had been shut down by a hacker attack. It reminds me of the limits and vulnerability of online communities, our writing, and our communication. Security on the web – especially in web services – is still mostly pretty easy to hack, and it’s difficult to defend against all types of hacks (DDoS attacks are simple to perform, hard to stop.)

Kathleen Kirk compares and contrasts a poem of mine from Field Guide to the End of the World with a poem from Donna Vorreyer’s Every Love Story is an Apocalypse here, “The Bounce and the Chaos” . An interesting and thoughtful discussion of two poems whose subjects – human relationships and electromagnetism – are very similar.

As I’m also currently working on a review of Dana Levin’s Banana Palace, another apocalyptic collection, and recently read Render: An Apocalypse by Nick Flynn and Rebecca Gayle Howell,  I was thinking of our current obsession with apocalypse in the news, in pop culture, in weather reporting. The last time I saw so much apocalypse in the poetry zeitgeist was back in the 1920’s, what with Eliot’s “The Waste Land” and Yeats’ “The Second Coming.” I even noticed the theme in children’s movies – not the teen dystopias like Maze Runner/The Giver/Hunger Games/Divergent stuff, but the children’s stuff, like, every “Ice Age” movie is another version of the characters facing an apocalypse, the latest caused by asteroids. Think of what people were about to face in the twenties – a huge stock market crash, the second World War, arguably more horrifying than the first, the Great Depression.  A decimation. They could not have known what was coming, but perhaps they sensed this. What do you think accounts for our current obsession – the movies, the television shows (the latest – “No Tomorrow” – has another asteroid destroys the earth plot), the novels and poems of imagining beyond the end of the world. I know that my own personal medical crises – first of the brain, in the discovery of brain lesions a few years ago and their effects, like memory and motor skill problems, and this year, being diagnosed – not once, but twice, in six months, with metastasized cancer in my liver – definitely spurs thoughts of afterlife, survival, luck, the spirit versus the body. With Brigit Pegeen Kelly’s death, my thoughts drift to how a poet survives beyond reach of her physical person, her short lifespan. Her three books continue to be taught and loved, and that is a kind of immortality and grace.

Thank you to Melanie at the Teabird book blog for this kind review of Field Guide to the End of the World. http://teabird17.blogspot.com/2016/10/field-guide-to-end-of-world-by-jeannine.html

I’m also hoping for a friendly crowd at tomorrow night’s Hugo House event at the Pine Box, where I’m participating in a crazy-scary contest-reading sort of thing – you can read more about it here.

And please put October 29th on your calendar for my updated reading/reception at Open Books for Field Guide to the End of the World. Apocalypse-related costumes welcomes. Cupcakes and sparkling drinks provided! Put on your poetry-apocalypse shoes and come party!

After the Storm, New Review of Field Guide and a poem in the Fall 2016 of North American Review

There were three days of storms from a typhoon in the Pacific that came through over the weekend. They caused water spouts/tornadoes in coastal Oregon, some downed trees and power outages, but we were not hit as hard as they had predicted. So Thursday night, we watched the weather and bought water and found our flashlights; there was a mild storm, no big deal. Friday was windier and wetter, we waited anxiously for updates on the historic Saturday storm – when it would start, where it would hit the hardest. Saturday was the day we were supposed to get the “historic” storm, so dangerous we were told not to go out of our houses. There was a bit of heavy rain at 6:30 PM, but not much else. (I was supposed to have an artist date with a friend, a poetry group, and have my reading/reception at Open Books on Saturday – none of which happened. We rescheduled the Open Books reading/reception til October 29th due to this weather event.  Oh well – hope to see some of you at 4 PM on October 29th – it’ll be more spooky as it’ll be Halloween weekend!)  So we took a trip to downtown Seattle during a rainless, wind-less lull on Saturday and took this picture of the ferry boat and ferris wheel, checked out the work at SAM’s newly relocated gallery of local artist’s work (right behind the gift shop – so cool!), checked out Pike Place market (still plenty of tourists there)  and we visited Open Books and bought some books! And here are my books on their shelf! Always cheering!

So that is how I spent my weekend. I felt so tired and frustrated and stressed out from the over-reaction to possible – but not actual – disaster that the weather people made me feel. (Just like the first poem in Field Guide to the End of the World, “Introduction to Disaster Preparedness” – ironic!) It reminded me of how I’ve been buffeted by medical news this year; in February, a random hospital stay resulted in the news that I had metastasized cancer in my liver. Many tests and doctors later, a group of liver specialists told me that the tumors were benign adenomas. A month later, I was told I definitely had a rare terminal cancer called carcinoid. Now my endocrinologists think that might wrong and are arguing with the liver oncologist about it. The stress and anxiety have been worse than any symptoms I’ve had. I’m tired of the ups and downs of both weather and medical reports. (Plus, I’m having nightmares about Trump every night.) I just want to sleep all the time as a result. Or maybe that’s just a beginning of fall thing?

On the plus side, I’m thankful for a few pieces of good news. Here’s a new review of Field Guide to the End of the World from Everything Distills into Reading (thank you!!🙂

http://readbookswritepoetry.blogspot.com/2016/10/poetic-book-tours-field-guide-to-end-of.html

And I have a poem in the new issue of North American Review called “Repeton in Winter.” I was very excited because I love North American Review!

Here’s the first poem from Field Guide to the End of the World. So apropos!

Introduction to Disaster Preparedness

While you told me about the bee colony collapse
caused by cell phones or maybe Monsanto and their magic poisons

I was thinking about a friend who said they found a lump
and another friend finishing chemo and waiting for a scan

and a third who said my hair is a disaster and she meant the layers
would take forever to grow out. My house is a disaster, she says, my yard, my outfit.

When you told me my son is autistic I thought of his bright eyes
and beautiful tears. It’s not the life you planned. How our minds

and bodies spin apart, like hives of bees confused about whom to follow,
flying further and further out to discover – what? That they’d flown

too far and now are frozen, flightless. How many hives abandoned.
We cannot sleep too far from disaster zones. I saw a tornado once

in my own front yard, and slept through hurricanes, knelt during earthquakes.
Did I pray, did I ask for something then? I only held my breath.

When later asked, Are you okay? I said, Everything is temporary.

Apocalyptic Storms and Rescheduling my Open Books Reading, Seattle Review of Books review of Field Guide, and More!

Every weather report has been crying apocalypse as a series of storms brought on by a waning Pacific typhoon has hit the Pacific Northwest. We’ve been lucky in our new home – no power outages, merely a few flickers, no downed trees. I haven’t watched this much weather news in a while.

In the intersection of apocalyptic poetry and apocalyptic weather, my poetry reading/reception for Field Guide to the End of the World – the last one I’m doing in Seattle – was supposed to be this Saturday afternoon at Open Books. It’s now been rescheduled to October 29th at the same time, 4-6 PM. Hope to see you there! It will be spooky appropriate fun for Halloween weekend!

A big thank you to Seattle Review of Books and Paul Constant, who were kind enough to do a review of Field Guide to the End of the World – local press is always an unexpected happy thing. I was excited that the book’s cover was briefly on the home page of Seattle Weekly! You can read it here at Seattle Review of Books!

http://www.seattleweekly.com/arts/seattle-poet-jeannine-hall-gaileys-latest-book-ends-the-world-again-and-again/

 

Jeannine Hall Gailey

Jeannine Hall GaileyJeannine 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.

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