A Wonderful Visit with a Poet Friend in the New Year, and Then, Grappling with the ICE Murder of a Poet and an Unhinged President

A Wonderful Visit with a Poet Friend in the New Year

This post may seem a little bit unbalanced, but I have to describe the good times as well as the bad this week. Let me start with the birthday celebration with my good friend poet Kelli Agodon, in which we had a lot of laughs, some cupcakes, some libations, and some good talk about poetry. I had been feeling a bit discouraged on the poetry front, and Kelli is always good at helping me see the bigger picture on that front.

Glenn and Kelli’s husband Rose helped the festive mood, and Charlotte the literary kitten came out to be admired. Kelli’s new book is about to come out in a few months, and I am really looking forward to seeing it in real life!

It is no little thing to get together with friends and celebrate life’s joys. Human being’s capacity for joy is just as important as our capacity for grief and empathy—part of what makes being human worthwhile. After she left, I wrote my first poem of the new year and sent my book out to another publisher.

Grappling with the ICE Murder of a Poet, and an Unhinged President Grabbing Other Countries…

It is impossible to keep my blog apolitical these days. And why try? Not to quote Harry Potter, but as Minerva McGonagal said in The Deathly Hallows, “…his name is Voldemort, Filius. You might as well use it; he’s going to try and kill you either way.” There’s no point in trying to be nice, to not speak up in public, because at this point, they will try and kill us either way, and they proved it this week, murdering a young mother and award-winning poet, Renee Good, in cold blood by shooting her in the face when she was no threat, then lying about it and saying she was a ‘domestic terrorist.’ This evening, they were breaking into people’s houses in Minneapolis, where I have many friends, without warrants, brandishing guns in front of children. If anyone is the terrorist at this point, it is the Gestapo-like ICE agents, who seem to face no consequences, unlike our military and police force, for murder. We’ll see if the murderer is brought to justice. There is plenty of video evidence to show that the woman was no terrorist, though propogandists would have you believe otherwise, and the ice agent videotaping his encounter and when she says “I’m not mad at you” he growls “fucking bitch” as he shoots her three times in the head, with her wife and dog in the car. A white, innocent, American citizen—not a criminal, not an “illegal immigrant” but a local, mother of three, Christian housewife. None of those privileges protects us anymore from Trump’s evil personal secret enforcers. There were so many on the internet claiming Renee deserved to be murdered because she would not comply, but let me remind you, there were many that died in the hands of the Nazis, too for refusing to comply. I will be with the Resistance, in case you were wondering. I have a magnet on my fridge that says, “If I had to pick one word to best describe myself, I suppose it would have to be: Can’t. Follow. Orders.”

We must act to protect our country’s freedoms, or we must leave. It feels very much like the history books, reading about Berlin and Vienna in the 1930s. I remember reading about friends sneaking Jewish Dr. Freud out, and I remember asking myself why he didn’t leave sooner—but now I see, leaving isn’t easy, and a lot of people want to stay and fight to make their country a better place—though I am feeling unsure that that is even possible at this point. The United States, by the way, turned down Anne Frank’s application to come here to escape the Nazis, thereby causing her death in the concentration camps. Plus ca change…

With Trump kidnapping Venezuela’s President and First Lady, installing a puppet President and taking over the country’s oil, and now threatening our NATO ally Denmark by threatening to use military force to take Greenland, well, it sure does look like Hitler’s playbook, doesn’t it? And we know from history that appeasing bullies and dictators—as people and countries did in the 30’s—did not protect them. Not being willing to speak the evil’s name does not protect us.

These are serious times, and serious topics. It is easy to feel frightened and helpless and angry, all at once. I am a poet, and so, as we witness these moments, we will write poetry, maybe no one will read it, but we will write it all the same.

Here is my poem, “In Which I Declare My Resistance,’ published previously in Rise Up Review.

Happy New Year! A Poem in the Final Issue of The Pedestal, New Year’s Celebrations but I Guess We’re in a War Now?

Happy New Year! New Year’s Eve Celebrations

Unlike our Christmas, our New Year’s was happily uneventful and actually fun. No medical crises or anything. We celebrated together at the Willows Lodge, where we had cocktails and wore silly hats and rang in the New Year. We went home and tried to watch our local fireworks (socked in the fog, invisible with very unsteady camera work) so we switched and watched the Paris New Year’s celebration at the Arc du Triomphe, where I was amused they included KPop Demon Hunter’s “Golden” in the musical mix. People were in a festive mood, and when we got home we got in our pajamas and watched Sleepless in Seattle. For New Year’s Day we had the traditional (and delicious) hopping john and cornbread (my Southern heritage hasn’t been completely erased, you see) and had TMC’s The Thin Man marathon on all day while we slept in and did leisure things. I worked a little on my book, and tried to get outside although it was very cold unpleasant (you don’t move to Seattle for the January weather, that’s for sure.

Things I was delighted by on New Year’s Eve: Willows Lodge had its art glass fish wearing tiny holiday hats, and we enjoyed wearing silly hats ourselves.

A Poem, “Revontulet,” in the final issue of The Pedestal

I was very happy to have a poem in the final issue of The Pedestal, along with many friends like Connie Post and Heidi Seaborn, although I am sorry the lit mag is coming to an end. You can see my poem and the whole issue here.

Trying to Focus on Writing But I Guess We’re in a War Now?

I did not vote for the current President, so I can’t be accused of ever believing any of his many, many lies, but I’m pretty sure one of them was he wasn’t going to get us involved in foreign wars (along with cheaper eggs.) So last night he bombed the capital of Venezuela and kidnapped the President and First Lady without notifying or seeking the approval of congress, which seems shockingly illegal but it seems other Presidents have done it so…I guess, we’re in a war now against an impoverished country? All I ever knew about Venezuela was that their economy has been mismanaged and the people have suffered, their food was excellent, and every Venezuelan I’ve ever met has been extremely nice and very good looking. I knew from this MST3K short that the US had once had a partnership with Venezuela involved with oil, so I’m guessing that’s the reason behind this mysterious country-grabbing that this terrible egomaniac who runs our country (not with my blessing) mystifying actions.

In non-war news, I’m trying to figure out if I need to revamp my current manuscript with the new bunch of submissions. Does it need to be re-written? I am suffering, if I’m honest, with self-doubt and self-criticism. I thought this was a really good book, but have rejections hurt my confidence? For sure. It’s also a book that’s squarely about disability, feminism, and survival. That may not be what all editors are looking for.  Urgh. I hate the part of writing – and it’s a large part – that is rejection, doubt, insecurity, poverty, obscurity. The waiting. The thinking “Maybe I should quit. Maybe I should write detective novels or advertising copy.” One of my goals for 2026 is to find the right publisher for this book, along with maybe a little more travel and (hopefully) better health. Think good thoughts for me!

And as we enter this 2026, on the night of a Supermoon, I wish you a gentler year, at the same time acknowledging that it’s been a hard last few years and we have to be kind to ourselves. It’s hard to be in this country right now for me, and maybe for you, and feeling things happening that are out of your control. It’s especially hard in the arts, at a time when the world literally needs art more than ever. So be creative, even if it’s just in little ways. Sketch a bird or write a poem or make a craft for someone you love. Play the guitar. I feel somehow art in its subversive way may be the way through this year. So, welcome new year!

A Stressful Christmas, Thinking about 2025, and the Year Ahead

Christmas Moon

Post-Christmas Roundup

Hope you all had a peaceful and healthy holiday. Our Christmas Eve involved Glenn having to go for a stat DVT ultrasound after his year-end physical, an emergency cat vet visit for Sylvia, and me worrying about how my disability keeps me from being a good caretaker for anyone, including myself, my husband, and my cat. Good times! Glenn is fine (but needs more tests) and so is Sylvia after being pumped with antibiotics. We managed to celebrate Christmas day with my little brother without too much trauma, but everything just left me exhausted. I had a MRI for my brain on the 22nd, and I have to meet with my neurologist tomorrow, but by the report it didn’t look like too much bad news, at least on the brain lesion front. Note to self for next year: do NOT leave it ’til the end of the year to do all your family medical stuff because of the resetting deductible. Learn from my mistakes!

Lest I sound too gloom-and-doom, I received, among other great presents, a lovely Dewi Plass print on a metal core called “Onward,” I had a post-Christmas coffee with new-to-Seattle scientist/poet Genevieve Pfeiffer, and I was able to visit with my little brother. And as you can see from the photo, Sylvia is back to her inquisitive normal self. And my hair is back to my more-normal-for-me pink! Red hair is a LOT of maintenance.

Thinking about 2025 and the Year Ahead

I know you’re supposed to size up the previous year and set goals for the next, but I feel like 2025 was somehow rougher than it could have been—the bathroom renovation was a too-long-and-too-expensive nightmare (I’m glad to have the disability-friendly bathroom, but it took a LOT of time and money and took a toll on both my health and Glenn’s)—rejection on the writing front, an increase in MS symptoms for the last six months (hence the brain MRI), and the political nightmare that is America right now—I want to be grateful and count my blessings, but for now, I just feel like shutting the door on the last few years and hoping for some more normalcy—for myself and my country—in 2026. Just wishing doesn’t make it so, of course. I know a lot of people who had a difficult holiday season—health emergencies, layoffs, losing parents and loved ones, divorces, or learning to care for parents who are getting older. I am sending good thoughts to all who are struggling right now.

If I have some positive hopes for the new year, it’s maybe a trip to Europe and a residency in spring on San Juan Island, maybe to find a good publisher for my seventh book, maybe a part-time regular job I could count on instead of scrambling for freelance stuff all the time, better health for me and my family? Less drama, more fun. Less spending, more appreciating the things I have. More time for friendship, adventure, inspiration? At my age and with so many things out of my control, I don’t do “goal setting” per se like I used to for each new year, but I do try to envision something positive—small joys, the chance to reset, a chance to embrace something new.

Wishing you all a Happy New Year! Here’s to a better 2026 for all of us!

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, New Poem in Laurel Review, and Holiday Coping Mechanisms

Glenn and I in holiday sweaters for our festival book club

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (and Hannukah and Solstice)

Today is the Solstice. It’s also the week of Christmas, and Hannukah, which can be a wonderful time, but also a time of stress—more heart attacks on December 25th than any other time of year, and famously, suicide rates are higher this time of year—so be easy on yourself and your loved ones, give yourself a break, sleep in a little, remember everyone is anxious and outside it’s cold (and here, possibly flooding), so the point is, try to enjoy yourself and whomever you celebrate with.

Here are some hummingbird pictures to cheer you up.

New Poem in Laurel Review

Charlotte with Laurel Review

Very excited to get my contributor’s copy of Laurel Review, which has my poem “Biodiversity (In the World of Fairy Tales)”—and also work by a ton of friends, Steve Fellner, Amanda Auchter, Michael Czyzniejewski, and local Allen Braden. I love when I get to read my friend’s work with mine! Anyway, highly recommend the issue.

Here’s a sneak peek at my poem:

Holiday Coping Mechanisms

Do you have any special holiday-specific coping mechanisms to share? I posted that Facebook makes me feel more depressed but my Instagram feed (which tends to be cute animals—red pandas! ermines! foxes!—plus a bit of poetry and Stephen Colbert clips) makes me feel better. I also recommend a hot chocolate (or beverage of choice) at 4 PM (when it gets dark here in Seattle) to help you cope with the cold winter lack of lights. I also notice my skin and lips are dryer than usual, so remember moisturizer and lip balm. Schedule-in fun things that help you disconnect from the news, family stress, etc. that will help you actually enjoy the season. Sometimes going out to the movies or a museum can get you out of the house and out of a mindset. A coffee date with a friend can be a great pick-me-up as well. If you, like me, have must-dos (like medical appointments) you have to do before the end of the year because of deductibles/insurance reasons, give yourself enough time that you’re not rushing to and from, and plan something pleasant afterwards.

Since tonight is the Solstice, I’ll try to remember to light a candle (even an LED one counts) and think about what I want to leave behind and what I want to happen in the new year. A friend of mine recommended a “reverse bucket list,” which involves listing accomplishments you’ve already done and crossing things off your life list that you don’t need or want (skydiving? No thank you! I’ve already parasailed, zip lined, rock climbed, rappelled down a mountain, and ropes courses galore…don’t have anything to prove about that stuff anymore). The point is that we often discount things we’ve already accomplished and feel anxious about things we want that we haven’t accomplished yet (more money! more fame! more accolades! etc.), so this is a way to feel more gratitude and less stress.

I also create a Vision Board for each year and find working with visuals helps activate my inner artist (even though I’m not usually an arts/crafts type) and the Solstice is a great time to get in touch with our intuitive inner self.

Anyway, wishing you all a happy Solstice, a Merry Christmas, and a Happy Hannukah, with a minimum of stress and a maximum of joy.

Dangerous Floods All Around, Trying to Holiday Despite

From the Weather Channel: Snoqualmie Falls before and after

Dangerous Floods All Around

It’s been one of those weeks here in Washington. People I knew and cared about were trapped in their homes—places I frequent, like North Bend, Snoqualmie, Snohomish and Skagit Valley—all experiencing record-breaking water. Bob’s Corn and Pumpkin Farm (where I took many pictures just a month or so ago) reported on Facebook that its corn maze was 16 feet underwater at one point. So many familiar places were shown in the news, sandbags in front of businesses, people anxiously evacuating their homes. I watched more news this week than I have in a long time. I had to cancel a bunch of plans—minor annoyances compared to what others were experiencing—and huddled indoors as we kept hearing “stay home, stay off the roads.” So many roads flooded that people trying to get home on a commute that usually lasted fifteen minutes lasted hours—and those were the lucky people whose access to home was not cut off by a bridge underwater.

Glenn and I at Willows Lodge with holiday decorations

Trying to Holiday Despite…

Despite all this, I tried to be useful this week. I signed up for a French online seminar. I read seven novels (possible candidates for the Winery Book Club—all art mysteries), wrote several Christmas cards, and bought presents for people. I even sent out a submission or two. I had problems with my web site that coincided with a week of a lot of rejection, which friends reassure me is “normal end of the year clearing house” but still feels personal, although I remind myself it is part of being a writer. (Not the fun part.) Saturday night, Glenn and I went to the Fireside Lounge at Willows Lodge, listening to live jazz (holiday themed) and trying out food (and cocktails) from the new Hawaiian chef at the hotel, Lyle Kaku. I can recommend their “zero proof” cocktails and their peppermint ice cream and pineapple tarragon sorbet, so far.

Me with peppermint espresso something – matched my outfit!

It was just nice to be out doing something normal and not stressful after the long week. We are reading Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower for this week’s book club (join us at the J. Bookwalter Winery in Woodinville on Wednesday at 6:30 PM if you like!), and it made me think about the power—and the weakness—of high empathy human beings (the main character has a defect that makes her “hyper-empathetic”—she literally feels other’s pain—and this disability/superpower also helps her build community). It reminded me that feeling pain for others is only helpful if it leads you to do something—take action—build community. I also watched the new Knives Out sequel, Rise Up Dead Man, which like Parable of the Sower, had a lot to say about good and evil in the human race, in religion, and the power of empathy over violence. It had really interesting things to say about the way Christianity (the example was in a Catholic setting, but it could just as easily been set in a fundamentalist megachurch) has dual roads—one consumed with power, vengeance, punishment, and oppression of women in particular—and another that decides that love and empathy are more powerful than fighting and hate, and the fruits of evil tend to be, well, more evil. Some of the lines in the film seemed ripped straight from social media. Even more than a murder mystery, the main conflict seemed to be between bowing to impulses like greed and prejudice and trying to do your best to be kind in an unkind world. I’d love to hear your thoughts about the movie (I also really liked the use of light in the movie, maybe more than any of the director’s previous films. It felt very film-noir-y, in a good way.) It seems like a good time of year to remember the goal of Christianity used to be “peace on earth, good will towards humanity” and “love thy neighbor” and you know, welcoming the stranger and the immigrant because after all, Jesus was born in a foreign land and no one gave his family shelter—all that stuff that seems to have fallen out of fashion among too many who call themselves Christian. Whew! All right, maybe this post got heavy. I also lost another poet friend, the great Connie Walle, who was a fixture in the Tacoma poetry scene and a great poet besides. It made me sad I had not expressed my admiration to her more while she was still here—a theme of this year for me, as I cross the names of old friends off the holiday card list because they are no longer with us. We really do a bad job of this remembering to express thanks, love, and appreciation for those friends and family, writers and artists, who have made our lives better, our memories short, our ability to remind ourselves that even our lives are not “forever,” and even small things cannot be taken for granted. This week I was made aware to be thankful that my home was dry and warm (for the most part—we did get a power outage or two) and that safety here in not guaranteed. It’s a time to give—not just presents, but happy memories, or thanks, or a donation. It’s also the Solstice approaching—I can feel the shortening days coming to an end soon—and a time to think about the past year, and what we want 2026 to look like. Well, happy holidays to you, and I am hoping you stay safe, healthy, and warm for the rest of the year.

December Rain, Bellevue Botanical Garden Lights, and Rejection

December Rain, Bellevue Botanical Garden Lights

Sorry this has to be a short, late post – my host had my web site down and I was unable to get into it until just now.

This week we’ll have rain, rain, and more rain, as a giant atmospheric river hits us for four days in a row. Before the rain started, we snuck out to see the Bellevue Botanical Garden Lights, and unfortunately, everyone else had the same idea, so it was super crowded. At least it wasn’t too cold, and it was a chance for us to get outside and walk a bit.

Week of Rejections

And in case you thought I was feeling too confident in my writing career, I got three (!) rejections for my book in the last week – one semi-finalist, one “send again,” and one totally blank – just a switch from “in-progress” to “declined.” I have to admit, with the rain and the dark and my MS acting up, it all seemed a bit much, and I admit to feeling defeated and depressed. The holidays can make this kind of stress harder, too – so much pressure to somehow always be happy during the darkest and coldest part of the year, don’t you think? Anyway, I’ll give the manuscript another go over in the new year and send it out again. I really am convinced it’s pretty good, but it’s not a “feel good” or “nice” kind of manuscript, and that may be hurting its chances at a time when people actually do need to feel better. It does have a lot of dark humor, which is sort of my thing, but it may not be everyone’s thing. Have I finished Christmas shopping? No. Am I feeling ready for the new year? Again, no. But sometimes, just like the weather out here in the Pacific Northwest, things can feel like a slog and you just have to get through them and go on. I’m lucky to have writer friends who cheer me on. If you all are getting more rejections than usual, one of them reminded me this is the time publishers and lit mags “clear the decks” – nothing personal, though it certainly feels personal, doesn’t it?

I will return and post something more upbeat soon. In the meantime, dental appointments, MRIs, and one more tutorial before the holiday. (Darn that resetting 5K deductible!) You all be gentle with yourselves and others. Maybe watch a holiday movie, something funny. Sending you all good writing and reading spirits for the rest of the year.

Thanksgiving, Holiday Times at The Nutcracker, Local Wineries, Mt Rainier and the Writing Life Holiday Edition

Glenn and I at the Nutcracker at McCaw Hall, Seattle

Thanksgiving, Holiday Times at the Nutcracker

Hello! Hope you had a good Thanksgiving weekend with a minimum of friction, family, travel, or otherwise.

We had a quiet Thanksgiving with my little brother—Glenn made a duck dinner with sweet potato and cranberry pies. A low-key affair, but nice. It’s always good to have some downtime catching up with family. It was my older brother’s birthday, too, and my grandmother’s (who passed away a few years ago). My little brother Mike told a funny story about finding a book of Grandma Opal’s recipes, trying them out, and finding that he didn’t like them at all. Well, neither of my grandmothers were really the cooking types, although I do remember her making divinity from scratch once.

Glenn, me and Mike

After Thanksgiving, I decided we should go see The Nutcracker, which Glenn had never seen before. My mother took me when I was a kid, and I had a ballerina classmate who got us free tickets in high school, but I hadn’t seen it in a long time. I was surprised by some of the changes—this was Balanchine’s Nutcracker, a version which I guess I hadn’t seen before—and the while the costumes and sets were beautiful, I didn’t like some of the changes to the music or the decision to take away Clara and the Prince’s Pas de Deux. There were lots of kids—some of them screaming or crying—not ballet fans, I guess—some of them dressed in ballerina outfits and snapping pictures everywhere, which was cute. Even now, Tchaikovsky can make me get up and want to dance around the room. I learned that the Dance of the Sugar Plum fairies used an instrument brand new to the world when he wrote the songs—the celesta, which most of you might know from John Williams’ “Hedwig’s Theme”—and that his younger sister died while he was writing the ballet, which might have made it more melancholy in nature than it might have been.

Mt Rainier, winter trees

Holiday Wineries and Mt Rainier

Today we stopped off to see the wineries and drop off a toy at J. Bookwalter’s Toys for Tots drive (’til Dec 7th and they give you a free tasting if you’re not already a member!) We walked around Chateau Ste Michelle and though there weren’t as many decorations or gifts as seasons past (they’ve had several changes of ownership, and it doesn’t feel as warm or festive as it once did) it was still nice to have the holiday feeling. It was super cold (got our first frost last night, much to our hummingbirds’ disapproval) but sunny, and we got to see the mountain, which even against a wintry backdrop is beautiful. We also put up our tree, which makes the house seem a little warmer and brighter. I did zero Christmas shopping this weekend, which may be a reaction to all the “spend spend spend” commercials and e-mails.

The Writer’s Life (Holiday Edition)

And how does the writer’s life change during the holiday season? Do you find yourself writing more or less? Is shopping or holiday card sending taking up time you would usually spend investigating journals or publishers? I haven’t been writing as much as I would like lately, holiday or no holiday, but I did manage to get a few submissions out after a pretty brutal book rejection the day before Thanksgiving (kept for more than a year with a “sorry it took so long” message after I’d been a finalist there multiple times. Ouch.) I’m starting to feel less sure about this book, which I used to have so much confidence in, my best book yet (I thought), fun and maybe even necessary. It’s also a little feminist, a little speculative, and more open about disability, which may mean it doesn’t appeal to everyone, especially in these “risk-averse” times. Anyway, think good thoughts as I send the manuscript out yet again, along with some poems. It is a good season for reading, and I’ve got a stack of books to read for the winery book club (trying to pick a literary art mystery for January). I’m doing more social things this December too—if I can avoid covid or pneumonia which a bunch of people I know have picked up recently—and one more Writer’s Digest tutorial—as well as some end of the year medical testing I have to get done before my deductible rolls over, so maybe I shouldn’t be too ambitious. But spending time being creative can be a good reminder to us during a hectic time of our true selves, and the things we truly value. Even if it’s just a sketch, a poem, a few photographs—I encourage you too to spend a little time doing something that inspires and energizes you. Happy almost-December to you all!

How to Give a Little, Making the Holidays Brighter…Literally

Amanita mushroom, or Alice in Wonderland mushroom

How to Give a Little, Making the Holidays Brighter…Literally

Ah, November in Seattle. I found myself humming “In the Bleak Midwinter”—a Christmas song I never heard or even thought about before moving here, but it seems very appropriate right now. I can feel the English melancholy in the gray rain of our winters.

I’m trying to find ways to brighten the days, literally and figuratively. For instance, here’s a beautiful amanita (or fairy agaric, or Alice in Wonderland) mushroom from our yard—something you’ll only see in November. We’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving with my little brother on Wednesday, a little untraditional with duck and broccolini but also cornbread stuffing and sweet potato pie (my Southern heritage peeks out a little here!) And we got tickets to see the Nutcracker—a little ballet in the holiday, since we have Thursday as down time. My husband Glenn has never seen it! We’re also planning a little Twin Peaks themed getaway in late December, so, our holidays are always a little weirder than most people.

Kitten Charlotte enjoys fighting the mushrooms under our solstice/Christmas tree. Her birthday is Christmas eve!

I was thinking about how to make this season brighter—with all the political ugliness and Trump and his horrid party boys trying to kill the arts (defunding the NEA means a lot of presses and lit mags shutting down and struggling)—and I came upon this idea. If you have a favorite press or literary magazine—we may not be able to replace a $25K grant from the government, but maybe we can give a little and if it happens from many of us, it will be enough to count. I know a lot of us are struggling with money these days—more than usual, given the layoffs and the inflation—but giving during the holidays has always been a tradition that usually comes—not from the wealthy, not from the billionaires—but from the little people, from the middle class. There are a lot of people who don’t have enough to eat. Animal shelters need donations of pet food. Even cleaning out and donating from your pantry may do more good than you know.

Also, little things, like getting out your sparkly tops, just dyeing your hair a different color (yes, I did it again—now it’s cranberry for the holidays!) and putting out candles or extra lights—can up your mood. It is dark here by 4 PM—and it’s natural to want to curl up and escape reality by staying in bed and binging Netflix. But trying a new place to look at holiday lights or adopting a new tradition (whether Ballet or Twin Peaks related) can help us out of our normal ruts. I got together with a few poet friends this week, and talking over sparkling cider and gingerbread cookies (and I swear there was healthy food too) made writing and submitting for another month of 2025 seem a little less intimidating (or exhausting.) I also realized I’d been writing an awful lot about death recently—even when I didn’t think I was! That’s what having other writers look at your work helps with—sometimes we can’t see our own obsessions, or we try to hide them from ourselves. Encouraging others often leads to feeling more encouraged ourselves. So, get together for cider or hot chocolate, put some lights up for elderly neighbors, drop some flowers off for someone who’s down—but try to offer up a little kindness and brightness in a world—and a season—that can feel awfully dark.

Wishing you a happy and untraditional-as-you-like Thanksgiving holiday!

Northern Lights, Book Club Revelations, Winter Blues and Winter Holiday

Northern Lights and Book Club Revelations

Most of the week was dark, windy, and rainy, but for fifteen minutes we got to see the Northern Lights! I only got a couple of quick cell phone pictures because the clouds came in so quickly. My brother on the other side of town couldn’t see them at all.

Here is a poem I wrote the last time the Northern Lights appeared, which was published in The Normal School,  “Aurora, or When Firefoxes Spark the Sky.”

Sylvia with Terminal Surreal

We also discussed my late friend Martha Silano’s incredible book of poetry, Terminal Surreal. And the discussion was really amazing. An engineer in the group mapped the sections of the book to the five stages of grief, and someone talked about the idea of knowing something of the author’s life and how that can enhance the reading of the book. When I was in graduate school, biographical readings were very out of style, but I always talk about the culture, the time of the writing, some details of the author’s life—for instance, when we read Osamu Dazai’s Blue Bamboo, we talked about Japan in the 30s and the incredible stardom of Dazai in Japan. I only teared up once talking about Martha, and Glenn said he also teared up once. We still miss her! I had never thought about whether or not to discuss the context of the book and author at the book club, but I’ve always found that knowing more about the author enhanced, rather than hurt, my own readings. We’ve read poetry books several times now, but this was the first time we read poems out loud at the club, including poems that were referenced in the book (Stephen Crane’s “In the Desert” and Mary Oliver’s “Wild Geese”). I think we’ll try that again—hearing a poem out loud is a great way to really get a different dimension of the book. For December, we’re reading Octavia Butler’s terrific Parable of the Sower. I discovered Butler’s writing only a few years ago, despite the fact that she was a Seattle-lite and is a first-rate science fiction writer.

Deer visitor

Winter Blues (and Winter Holiday)

It was a tough week for me physically—I recorded a tutorial on Monday and then the book club on Wednesday, and by Thursday I was run down and spent almost the whole day in bed. The weather’s been dreary—so much rain, wind, chill—that I haven’t been able to do much outside, and I feel like I have a head cold all the time, which is super fun, lol. I remembered that I always struggle—emotionally and health-wise—around this time of year. What do I do to help cope?

Candle lights at Redmond Town Center

A couple of things that help—scheduling something to look forward to, looking at the holiday decorations around town (see last week’s post for the Woodland Park Zoo’s beautiful holiday lanterns) and deliberately doing cozy things. I watched several film noirs (my favorite genre of movie, I think), read for fun, and since Glenn had never seen the Nutcracker, we got tickets to go see it after Thanksgiving. My mother used to play the Nutcracker Suite on a record player when I was a kid (along with other classics such as Jimi Hendrix and Jesus Christ Superstar—a diverse musical upbringing, really), and we went to see it when my brother and I were little so I have a sentimental place in my heart for it, hallucination-induced rat king and all.

Despite the rain, dark and cold, Glenn put up the holiday lights around the house. Too early, you say? Well, when it’s dark by four PM, it’s literally a safety hazard, and the lights help! Never too early for lights the Pacific Northwest—and we weren’t the first house on our street, either.

Sharp-Shinned Hawk

I feel like I should be more productive at this time of year, but maybe it’s okay to take a break from being productive and hibernate a little. I feel impatient, a bit, about getting my next book into the world. I’ve sent it out to a few places—it’s possible I’m a bit pickier than I was when I was younger—and have already waited over a year to hear back from most of them. So much of the poetry life is waiting, and I’m impatient by nature. And if you are feeling a little under the weather or depressed, remember the time change and lack of sunlight can cause a lot of emotional turmoil and immune system problems, not to mention the news and the economy and politics, so take your extra vitamins and don’t beat yourself up for not being Little Miss Sunshine all the time. (A great film to watch, by the way, when you’re under the weather—a little offbeat but I remember laughing so hard in the theater when I saw it, I almost fell out of my chair. I got a lot of strange looks that day…)

November Chill, Book Publishing and PR Questions, and Trip to the Woodland Park Zoo

typewriter and fall leaves

November Chill, Book Publishing Biz and PR Questions

The dark, cold, rain has definitely set in here, as darkness starts about 4:00 PM now. I’ve been working more indoors, reading, and sending work out. But not just sending work out—thinking about the machinations of the publishing world, thinking about PR and what we can expect from our books and our publishers, especially because tomorrow I’m recording a tutorial on PR for Poets for Writer’s Digest and I did a talk last week on the subject.

Typewriter with mushrooms

Book publishing itself has changed so much since I started in publishing, working at Microsoft Press in 2000 as an Acquisitions Editor. Now Microsoft Press no longer exists, and books on technology are considered obsolete. People are reading less, reversing the trend of reading more during the pandemic. Books are selling fewer copies, publishing continues to encounter problems of plagiarism in AI, it’s harder to get the word out about individual books from small presses now than maybe ever in my life, and I don’t want to lie about how challenging it is now to younger writers. I am sending out my own seventh (!) manuscript and the landscape is more expensive (those fees aren’t getting cheaper, and you’re less likely to get a book or subscription than you used to be) and more challenging than it was back in 2003, when I sent out my first poetry book manuscript. Social media doesn’t seem easy to navigate right now, with more and more people totally stopping posting or just getting off of socials altogether (for their mental health, or just because socials have become more annoying). There are still people going on book tours and doing readings online and in person, there are still people buying and reviewing books. there are still people that care. That’s what we have to remember.

Glenn and I with fox lantern

Woodland Park Zoo in Winter with Lanterns

It’s usual for us to take a chance on a sunny day and try to go to the Woodland Park Zoo before their Zoo Lanterns lights are completely up—we like to see the animals more than we like the illuminated lanterns—so we took advantage of a rare sunny Sunday and visited some of our favorite animals, including the jaguar, the snow leopards, and of course, the red panda (and we heard the zoo is getting two more red pandas in 2026 with an expanded forest feature). The antique carousel is sentimental for us because we rode the carousel when the same carousel (!) lived in Cincinnati back when we were teenagers, and my mother loves carousel horse art.

With wings

We learned the zoo, after losing its last Northern gray wolf, took in endangered Mexican gray wolves, which are rare, and are helping with reintroducing cubs into the wild in Arizona and New Mexico. We also learned the beautiful mother the snow leopard cubs—you can see her in my previous posts about the cubs had passed away at the age of 20. I wonder if the bird flu is still endangering big cats—I heard recently it has been decimating populations of elephant seals in the wild—because it’s hard to keep wild birds, squirrels, and rats totally out of habitats. Anyway, there were lots of foxes represented among the lanterns this year—as well as an absolutely terrifying giant centipede—why? It did get us a bit in the holiday spirit too—we used to shop every year at the zoo’s gift shop for gifts for our young nieces and nephews for Christmas—now they’re too old for most of it (although I’m not!) Here’s wishing you a day or two of brightness during your November dark and remember to acknowledge the hard parts of life while still trying to celebrate the good. And best of luck with your writing and publishing journeys.