A Trip to Skagit Valley, Surviving Infusions during Supermoons, Last Days to Sign Up for Spooky Season Poetry Class, and Voting
- At October 21, 2024
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
- 0
A Trip to Skagit Valley in October
Knowing I had a tough week in front of me, we decided to take a spontaneous trip to Skagit Valley on one of the sunnier days before my infusion date. We stopped by RoozenGaarde and admired their dahlias and bought tulip and daffodil bulbs to plant for next spring. While we were there, a woman recommended a local pumpkin farm called Gordon Skagit Farms. We then stumbled upon it as it was really close, but it was only fifteen minutes to close. We got coffee and pumpkins and kettle corn for the drive home, but it was incredible to be there at sunset, all these gorgeous farm settings (their logo is a fox!) and kids taking picturesque shots with tractors. If you’re in the area, check out Gordon Skagit Farms—it is gorgeous and huge. How had we missed it on all our other trips to the area in the fall? No idea!
Surviving Infusions During Supermoons
The day I was supposed to get my infusion was also the day of the Hunter’s moon Supermoon, which was pretty spectacular. The infusion experience? Not so much. The infusion center had NO saline bags—the shortage is real, people—and my doctor had forgotten to order ANY of my pre-medications (last time I had four). It lasted longer than my last one and I was in a public room instead of a one-person room, too, so no television or audiobooks (didn’t want to be rude to the other people in the room, but it makes four and a half hours with a painful needle in a vein seem much longer). I had side effects—headache, itchiness, muscle cramps—and was pretty wiped out for two days. I hope this was worth it! My immune system doesn’t really “do” vaccines properly, so these antibody infusions are important to keep me out of the hospital with more serious disease, but they really aren’t fun. But right before the infusion, I walked out into my garden, and I saw the first butterfly of the season: a Red Admiral. Seemed, along with the Supermoon, to be a good omen.
Today was the first day I was able to get out and about, and it was crazy windy. We visited our local pumpkin farm, JB Family Growers. I voted too! If you have election anxiety, you’re not the only one. The only way this vote is close is because people would rather vote for a deranged, hate-filled criminal than vote for a woman, because this country has a LOT of deep-seated misogyny. “I just don’t like her voice” I’ve heard people say—which is a terrific reason to not vote for someone, right? I mean, who cares about women’s rights or health care or the Ukraine—against “a candidate’s voice is annoying (and by that, they mean female.)” Anyway, I hope you get out and vote because every vote is going to count this election. I am going to hope for the best. In Washington State, we also had Senator and Governor votes, as well as some important initiatives, so it seemed like a good one to vote early on.
After we went to the pumpkin farm, a squall blew up, but afterwards there was a beautiful double rainbow. And it was nice to get some fresh air (even if it did come with 40 mph wind gusts!)
This might be your last chance to sign up for Kelli and my Spooky Season Poetry Zoom class!
Spend Sylvia Plath’s birthday writing new poems! Just in time for Spooky Season, a poetry class exploring how the natural world intersects with the supernatural with poets Kelli Russell Agodon and Jeannine Hall Gailey. Kelli and Jeannine will discuss their fascination with the natural and supernatural worlds, sharing poems by Plath and others that blur the lines between the familiar and the unknown. Together, we’ll harness this energy in our own writing, drawing inspiration from the unknown and the uncanny. This two-hour Zoom class will end with a Q&A for a deeper dive into this hauntingly beautiful topic. Join us to stir your imagination and leave with fresh drafts of new poems!
Cost: $119 (scholarships and tuition assistance available)
There are only a few spots left, so don’t miss out! 🦇👻🎃
Spooky Season Zoom Class with Kelli Russell Agodon, Sunflower Festivals and Local Pumpkin Farms, An Elgin Award for Flare, Corona, and Turning in a New Book
- At October 14, 2024
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
- 2
Spooky Season is Here! Sign Up for Our “Thinning Veil” Zoom Class!
Are you in the mood to write some spooky poems? Sign up for our class on “Writing Poems Where the Natural World Meets the Supernatural,” with me and Kelli Russell Agodon! October 27th from 4 PM to 6:30 Pm Pacific.
Here’s the class description and a registration link:
The Thinning Veil: Writing Poems About Where the Natural and Supernatural Worlds Meet
Spend Sylvia Plath’s birthday writing new poems! Just in time for Spooky Season, a poetry class exploring how the natural world intersects with the supernatural with poets Kelli Russell Agodon and Jeannine Hall Gailey. Kelli and Jeannine will discuss their fascination with the natural and supernatural worlds, sharing poems by Plath and others that blur the lines between the familiar and the unknown. Together, we’ll harness this energy in our own writing, drawing inspiration from the unknown and the uncanny. This two-hour Zoom class will end with a Q&A for a deeper dive into this hauntingly beautiful topic. Join us to to stir your imagination and leave with fresh drafts of new poems!
Cost: $119 Scholarships and tuition assistance available.
Sunflower Festivals and Local Pumpkin Farms, Manic Energy and Reading
We’ve been very lucky with our October this year, with many days in the sixties with sunshine. JB Growers held a sunflower festival during one of these sunny days, and we arrived just as a hot air balloon went up over the sunflower fields. I mean, picture-perfect! So there are a few pictures of Glenn and I goofing around at the festival at the JB Growers Pumpkin Farm and Puzzle Patch.
I know that there are not a lot of warm sunny days left in this season, which lends these days a kind of manic energy, jumping out of bed too early and going to bed way too late. Plus, a comet and auroras—it’s a weird time for solar weather! If your energy feels unsettled, maybe that’s part of it. I’m calming myself down with reading Ina Garten’s memoir, Be Ready When the Luck Happens (which has great book PR tips in it, surprisingly) and re-reading Karen Russell’s St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves (for my book club). Also, I submitted the manuscript for my next book! That should help. I usually write (and submit) much better when I get finished with one book and can start a new project. Are you this way too?
An Elgin Prize Nod for Flare, Corona
Very honored that Flare, Corona won third prize in the SFPA’s 2024 Elgin Award for full-length collections. Congrats to all the winners! My previous book, Field Guide to the End of the World, won first prize, so I have to say they’ve been very supportive of my work.
This little piece of good news was so encouraging. Every little review, award, mention, and sale for a poetry book matters. So thank you to the SFPA voters. And thank you to everyone who has bought a copy of Flare, Corona, read it, reviewed it anywhere, said something nice about it to a stranger, etc.
When You Turn In Your Next Book…
When the editor of BOA Editions Ltd. called me and told me they wanted to publish Flare, Corona, I was so happy. BOA is a dream press for me. So turning in my next book manuscript has been a little fraught. You want the book to be perfect, to live up to expectations, to be funny and moving and exciting. I have been working on the manuscript for years, but I never felt it was close enough to be “done” before this.
The phenomenon that accompanies this is like…oh no! I should have done x, y and z to it too! But there is such a thing as over-editing a book before you get some feedback from your editor. (Yes, I have had poet friends read it over, which is an important step too.) And just like the hot air balloon over a field of sunflowers, you feel a little lighter once you turn in your book. Like, you can now start a new project. Do I know exactly what the new project is yet? No. But I’ll keep writing poems, and eventually, a picture or story will emerge, and it will become the next book. Which is to say—this is all an exercise in hope. Hope that BOA likes my next book; hope that I will continue to write new poems; hope that there is an audience out there for my work. Not just hope, but maybe an exercise in faith.
I hope that as fall continues, you will stay safe, write and read wonderful work, and take care of yourselves. There is a LOT of bad news out there right now—wars, the election, hurricanes and their aftermaths, plus the regular ups and downs of life. What can we do in the face of all that? Yes, we can donate to charities, spend time on the most important causes volunteering, and doing what we can to make the world a better place. We are not completely powerless, though it may feel that way sometimes. (And of course, please register and vote, vote, vote, because even if it doesn’t feel like we make a difference, we can.) I believe in the value of art, of creativity, of kindness. I’m worried, too—about friends and family struggling with health issues, and I’m supposed to spend four hours on Thursday getting an un-fun infusion at the hospital downtown (so think good thoughts for me if you can spare them). But I hope that we can find enough beauty and joy to battle our anxiety, anger, fear, and grief. Wishing you all a week ahead filled not just with worry, but with hope.
Away at a Writing Retreat on San Juan Island, Chance to Rethink My Manuscript and My State of Mind
- At October 07, 2024
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
- 1
At a Writing Retreat on San Juan Island, a Chance to Rethink my Manuscript and State of Mind
Thank goodness for writing residencies! I’d been in a bit of a funk lately, and what I really needed was a chance to change my focus (I almost wrote foxus, and you’ll see why later) and think about my project in a new way. The residency is at a marine wildlife center in Friday Harbor on San Juan Island (WA). There’s no television or radio (or guarantee of electricity all the time), but it’s right on the harbor and perfect as a place to write. In fact, I wrote two new poems, sent out two submissions, and reconsidered my next manuscript in a way that I hope will make it much better. But it wasn’t really about productivity—it was about not listening to the news but listening to the ocean—not looking at screens but looking into fields for foxes—about paying attention to the light instead of listening to my anxieties.
Besides spending time in nature, I ended up talking to people on trails, nature photographer hobbyists like me, grandmother-aged skinny dippers. Besides leaving me wishing for more zoom on my shots (almost everyone there had a more expensive, better zoom lens than I did, which allowed them to get better fox pictures! Jealous!), I felt like I was part of a community. Loving nature is something I had in common with these people—all so joyous. And I got to witness the coolest thing ever—fox dancing! A black fox and a red fox both got up on their hind legs, put their paws together, and twirled around for about four minutes. My pic isn’t spectacular, but you have to realize it was so amazing to see.
In the five days or so I was away, I took a look at my manuscript not poem by poem, but the big picture—how do the sections hang together? what’s the trajectory of the book? what’s the story behind the story? Turns out it was time for some reshuffling, some deletions, some additions, and focusing on the story. And also, something about taking photographs—and waiting for the light—got me thinking about the right timing in books, the right light, so to speak. It takes time to see your own books—the shifts in tone, the difference in cadences—in the right light.
I was also thinking of the changes I’ve seen on San Juan Island over the last 20 years I’ve been visiting. In some ways, more dramatic than those in my neighborhood in Woodinville. This year, for the first time ever, I saw two gigantic bevy of quail. Like, 13 or 14 at a time. The rabbits—nearly non-existent in 2021 due to a disease that killed many—have recovered to numbers I hadn’t seen in ten years. The deer were fewer. The foxes were shyer but looked healthier—which meant they weren’t begging humans for food due to starvation, which was good. (Although I miss having foxes that came right up to me, I’d much rather they be healthy.) Besides the fox dancing behavior, I also learned that the black fox mutation in red foxes, pretty rare in nature, is really prevalent here. So just like me, the black fox is a mutant! Some distant pics below. But on the whole, taking this break helped my outlook, and reminded me of why I bother to write and fight for my health despite setbacks. With even limited internet and phone service, it was also a break from a constant stream of media, mostly negative.
So, we had a lovely boat ride home, but we were pretty exhausted by the time we got back. One thing we didn’t see on the island…any pumpkin farms or U-pick apple farms, which since the island is covered in farms (including an alpaca farm!), seemed like a missed opportunity. Good thing the Sunflower Festival started at the pumpkin farm in Woodinville. I’ll post about that in the next post! Hope you are all well, and wishing you a happy mid-October.
Also, there are still some spots left for my upcoming class with Kelli Russell Agodon: The Thinning Veil: Writing Poems Where Natural and Supernatural Worlds Meet. Don’t forget to register here.
A New Poem in MAR, A Rough Week, More Pumpkin Farms, and How to Cheer Yourself Up
- At September 30, 2024
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
- 3
A Rough Week and More Pumpkin Farms
It’s been a rough week for me, not going to lie. Drove across town in different directions on different days (three-hour round trips) to meet with endodontists who, surprise, said on the phone they could work with me on my root canal, but after charging me a $250 exam fee, decided they couldn’t. (Also had a day with three different doctor appointments, which always is hard on me.) The physical and emotional drain of doctor appointments for chronically ill people is real.
The winners were announced for the WA state book awards (congrats to all the winners, esp. friends Rena Priest and Jane Wong!) I hate to admit this, because yes, I am very grateful to have been nominated, but Flare, Corona (a finalist for the WA state book award) failing to win hit me a bit harder than I thought it would. I tried not to get my hopes up, telling myself I was lucky just to be nominated, but there it is—my emotions said otherwise. My MS symptoms were also acting up as I was running a small fever all week with a cold, so I had to reschedule my covid antibody infusion (which might have been too much this week anyway, with all the tooth stuff). Unexpected expenses, wasting time on not-useful appointments, and just feeling like “why do I even write poetry?”—all capped by a terrible hurricane that hit areas where I had family harder than we expected (luckily, they are all fine, but a lot of people aren’t) and more war in the news. Let’s not even talk about how close this election is. I am not usually a depressed person, but I certainly struggled with getting anything done this week, or even feeling like it was worthwhile getting anything done.
Cheering Yourself Up in Hard Times
I tried to do some things to cheer myself up, including getting out in nature and visiting a newly opened local pumpkin farm, McMurtrey’s, which also had beautiful u-pick flowers like dahlias, zinnias, and sunflowers. I tried to write but had more success reading—especially interesting articles in, of all places, the New Yorker—an article on Ina Garten’s success (for instance, she gave her first cookbook’s publisher $85,000 for half the print run, and then spent $200K more on PR and photography) now she makes millions on her cookbook contracts. So that’s how to be a successful book writer, LOL! $285K!) plus an article on AI and antibiotics which was fascinating. And I got my contributor’s copy of Mid-American Review, in which I had a new poem. And I had a lovely book club meeting discussing Yoko Ogawa’s Mina’s Matchbox, which was great. We’re reading St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves for October, spooky season. I ate kettle corn from two different pumpkin farms. And I have a writing retreat to look forward to. So, maybe this stuff didn’t fix everything, but it did help.
New Poem in MAR, “Crows Splinter the Rain”
In other news, I was very excited to have a very spooky-season appropriate poem, “Crows Splinter the Rain,” in the new issue of Mid-American Review. (My issue came a little late as the first issue was lost at an old address, but better late than never.) It is a great issue, order yourselves a copy, and here’s a sneak peek at my poem:
Wishing Everyone Out There a Happy, Safe Turn to October
I am hoping everyone affected by hurricane Helene is safe and recovering. I know many mountain communities in Appalachia have been absolutely devastated. I lived and traveled throughout those areas for many years, and never had a hurricane affect us, so this is definitely a shock for those of us who used to live there and those that live there now.
As the days grow shorter and colder as we turn to October, I wish you all a good book, good friends, and as much hope as you can hang on to. And those of you who are already voting? Please keep in mind exactly what’s at stake.
The Fall Equinox, Hanging Out with Artist Friends, Pumpkin Farms and Sunflower Walks, Zoom Classes and Prizes and more
- At September 23, 2024
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
- 1
Happy Fall Equinox
We’ve had a beautiful weekend with days that start with mist and end in sunshine, although it was cloudy and rainy for days before—the Harvest Supermoon barely visible behind clouds. We stopped by a farmer’s stand to pick up apples and squash and even more corn (!) and enjoyed visiting the newly opened JB Grower’s Pumpkin Farm and Corn and Sunflower Maze, where we snapped this picture as a hot air balloon landed near the corn maze while Mt Rainier is out. I also got to visit with my visual artist friend Michaela, who created the art on the cover of my first two books. It was great to catch up!
They say the things you’re supposed to do to celebrate the fall equinox include getting into nature, celebrating the harvest, lighting a candle, cleaning and practicing gratitude. I’m grateful for seeing so many friends in the last few weeks, and though I’m still trying to find an endodontist who will do a root canal without Novocain, I’m grateful for the flowers and sunshine and local beauty of fall. I am also waiting for the results of the Washington State Book Awards, which will be announced tomorrow. And I’m grateful that Flare, Corona is in such good company with the other finalists (like Rena Priest and Gabrielle Bates). I’m also grateful (but still a little nervous) about possibly getting the new covid monoclonal antibody (maybe I should wait ’til after dental work?) And I’ve got a writing residency and an ADA bathroom remodel coming up soon! Busy times!
Hanging Out with Artist Friends
I was also happy to get together with my visual artist friend Michaela Eaves, a wonderful artist who did the art for my first two books, Becoming the Villainess and Unexplained Fevers. We hadn’t gotten to catch up in person for a while, so it was good—Glenn made apple and cheese scones and coffee and ginger tea, we visited the pumpkin farm (she especially liked the cute-dog watching at the farm!) and generally got to hear what was going on with each other’s lives. We talked about everything from books to the election to the difference between acrylic and oil paintings (I still have a hard time discerning which is which). I have wonderful friends, but some of them live a good distance away, so I am always grateful when they make the trek out to Woodinville.
Classes, Prizes and More
I also recorded a talk for Writer’s Digest this past week but have been having issues with Zoom with my new-ish HP laptop. Anyone have any recommendations for computers that have no issues with Zoom? Kelli and I are doing a Spooky Season Zoom class next month on the natural and supernatural worlds (see previous post to register!). I may start to do more Zoom classes in the future and want to make sure these crashes aren’t an issue. I’m also going to create a dedicated space to do Zoom classes in the house (I’ve been doing them in the bedroom, which isn’t the best room in the house for this). Isn’t it strange how the pandemic altered the way we interact with people but maybe made it easier for people like me (who can’t travel often due to health issues) a way to teach and visit and interact with people around the world. I’m grateful for the technology (even with the computer snafus).
And on pins and needles waiting to hear tomorrow about the Washington State Book Award for Poetry. It’s hard waiting for news! But I’ll distract myself by driving out to Edmonds for a meeting with a potential endodontist. Hopefully by the end of the week we’ll have a root canal (or similar) scheduled for that broken tooth. I’m also picking out a book for “spooky season” for the Bookwalter’s Winery Book Club, torn between Haruki Murakami’s After Dark, Yoko Ogawa’s Revenge, and a few others. Last year we did the fantastic funny ghost story collection, Where the Wild Ladies are from Aoko Matsuda, and is it hard to live up to that book. (Commenters are welcome to recommend more spooky stories!) It’s times like these I wish my friend Felicity Shoulders (who writes a great spooky short story) had a collection I could give out to book club members. Sometimes to your writer friends you want to say “hurry up and publish! I want your book! but I’m not a big fancy publisher so I can’t just go around granting lucrative book contracts, wish though I might.
Wishing you all a pumpkin and cider-filled first week of fall!
Fall is Here, Sign Up for a Spooky Season Zoom Class with me and Kelli Russell Agodon, Zoo Visits and More
- At September 16, 2024
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
- 3
Fall is Here!
No matter that we’re a few days early for the official start of fall, the cold temperatures and rain don’t lie—and neither do the farm stands, with squash and apples showing up along with the last peaches and corn. I love fall, although this one is pretty busy—I’ve been tied up with dental stuff for two weeks now, first a dentist broke my tooth at a cleaning, then back to patch it, then to an endodontist who said I needed a root canal but he refuses to do it because I can’t take Novocain (allergy)—I mean, exhausting—and that’s outside of all the specialists and scans and infusions on the calendar. I have to make sure to take some to focus on the good things—a quick stop at the Woodland Park Zoo to see snow leopard cubs (hiding during my visit) and our red panda, a visit to Bob’s Corn and Pumpkin Farm. And squeezing in time to write and try to submit and work on my next book (and work a little harder at promoting Flare, Corona!)
September is also rejection season AND submitting season—a double hitter that can be hard on the writer’s ego, and of course I’m waiting to hear about the results of the Washington State Book Award after Flare, Corona was named a finalist. And later this week I’m doing a recording for Writer’s Digest this week and putting together a Zoom class with my friend Kelli. (More about that later in this post!)
Sign Up for a “Spooky Season” Zoom Class with me and Kelli Russell Agodon
Just in time for Spooky Season AND Sylvia Plath’s birthday, Kelli and I are hosting a Zoom class on October 27, 2024, called:
The Thinning Veil: Writing Poems About Where the Natural and Supernatural Worlds Meet
Spend Sylvia Plath’s birthday writing new poems! Just in time for Spooky Season, a poetry class exploring how the natural world intersects with the supernatural with poets Kelli Russell Agodon and Jeannine Hall Gailey. Kelli and Jeannine will discuss their fascination with the natural and supernatural worlds, sharing poems by Plath and others that blur the lines between the familiar and the unknown. Together, we’ll harness this energy in our own writing, drawing inspiration from the unknown and the uncanny. This two-hour Zoom class will end with a Q&A for a deeper dive into this hauntingly beautiful topic. Join us to to stir your imagination and leave with fresh drafts of new poems!
Cost: $119 Scholarships and tuition assistance available.
Zoo Visits
Woodland Park Zoo is under a lot of construction (including building a new habitat for our red panda!), but it had three brand new snow leopard cubs, and it was the last day of the Butterfly House being open, so we snuck in a quick visit. The snow leopard cubs were hiding while we were there, but we got to visit with their beautiful mother.
Going to the zoo is one of the summer rituals I didn’t want to skip, even though the weather is getting cooler, and the timing was hard. It’s important to squeeze in the things that matter to us—even if it’s just watching butterflies—in between paying bills, doctor appointments, work, and the busy work that is too big a part of our lives. To be a writer is sometimes to prioritize the butterfly watching.
Flare, Corona is a Washington State Book Award Finalist! And Art Gallery Openings, Visiting with Friends and Family
- At September 09, 2024
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
- 1
Flare, Corona is a Washington State Book Award Finalist
I can finally share my good news—Flare, Corona is a 2024 Washington State Book Award Finalist! I’m very grateful for the honor and am happy to be in very good company, including my friend Rena Priest. You can cross your fingers for me—I’ll find out by the end of the month if I’ve won or not.
We poets go a long time between pieces of good news, luck, recognition, awards. So, something like this can feel like a big deal and we try to celebrate it as best we can (in between rejections, LOL). Does this mean more people might buy or read the book? The answer is really only maybe. But we can hope! And I might get a sticker for my book, which is always nice. And thank you to all the people who wrote me nice notes of congratulations. It really does mean a lot.
(SAL and Open Books did an announcement on Instagram that had a cute graphic I thought I’d share!)
Art Gallery Opening at Roq La Rue
Saturday night we went to the opening show for Dewi Plass and Hallie Packard at Roq La Rue, my favorite Seattle art gallery. My little brother and sister-in-law were also in attendance, and we had a great time catching up with them. Plus, we talked to the artists and Kerstin, the gallery owner. A gorgeous show (it’s up ’til Sept 28th if you want to see it!) And I purchased a great book of sci-fi and steampunk art. (Roq La Rue has some terrific and hard-to-find art books, if you’re into that sort of thing.)
It made me think about how art inspires me and how making friends with artists is always so rewarding. It’s good to give your life a little space for music, visual art, theater, anything that makes you feel more creative. Visual art has a way of making you see the world a little differently.
Visiting with Family and Friends
Sunday, I visited with my writer friend Kelli Russell Agodon and her family, which was wonderful. I don’t get to see my writer friends often enough, especially this year, it seems. We got to catch up and celebrate good news, commiserate, enjoy brunch. One of the things about the pandemic is how much many of us got used to not socializing, even with family and close friends. Even now, Glenn and I probably go and about less than we used to. But there’s such a benefit to getting together with actual humans.
Kelli and I talked about doing a possible Zoom class together soon, so stay tuned for details on that!
September Begins: Changing Seasons and Life Assessments, Reunions with Old Friends, and Back to Work
- At September 01, 2024
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
- 0
September Begins: Changing Seasons and Life Assessments
It’s the first day of September, which brings with it a lot of changes. A lot of us start to think about work after more leisurely summer days. Our local lavender farm closed yesterday, getting ready to shift to become a pumpkin farm at the end of the month. The weather today was bright and 85°F, unseasonably warm, but the days are noticeably shorter than they were a month ago. The gardens—my own and others around town—are in their last bright, ragged days, rampant and moving towards the end of their flowering. I admit to a fondness for September over August, usually a time of looking forward, to holidays, to a new year, a time of hope?
A Facebook “memory” brought up something that caused me to do a brief life assessment—it was a blog post from about six years ago, when I was 45. The post was angry, frustrated, obviously a person who was struggling with many things in her life. Now six years later, I wonder why I was so angry. Of course, I had had a terminal liver cancer diagnosis the year before, and then an MS diagnosis—two things so devastating, and complicated by the fact that I have friends that still to this day have not called me since those two events (losing friends is tough, but I guess those weren’t real friends, as my mother would have said to me in eighth grade). The terminal diagnosis was wrong, at least a little premature, though I still have a liver full of tumors, and the MS diagnosis was wrenching, though years of physical, vestibular, speech therapies have helped a lot of the symptoms. I was frustrated by what I felt like was a stagnant writing career, full of frustrated ambition. (It could also have been the beginning of perimenopause, often punctuated by mood swings.) One good thing about blogs is that they capture a certain moment in time, in your life. Was I feeling lucky that we weren’t in the middle of a pandemic, that I could go to the movies or dentist relatively freely? No, I was not. Ah, hindsight.
At 51, I wish I could tell my previous self about what was to come: the pandemic and all it would change, the fact that I would make new friends (and renew old friendships unexpectedly), that my marriage would improve, that my writing career might not be rocketing towards stardom but feels like enough to me these days. (I did have a book come out to some success, some good reviews, appearances in Poetry Magazine and Poetry Daily that bolstered my confidence, among other things. But also, a shift in mindset about what constitutes “enough” success?) That I would build connections to my community (and a pretty decent garden) during the covid years. That though things aren’t perfect, I no long feel as frustrated in my daily life. My health isn’t perfect, but my dental hygienist commented on how much better I was doing physically than five years ago, which caused me to wonder—what is she noticing that I haven’t about improvements in my overall well-being? I’m no longer in a wheelchair all the time, many of my MS symptoms are less acute, I’ve been getting treatment for more of my weirdo stuff. I lost weight during the last four years and increased my bone density, not usual at 51! I feel grateful for these positive changes, though sometimes they’re so gradual you might not remark on them.
Reunions with Old Friends, and Back to Work
I got to see an old friend (my best friend from fifth grade!) who is an ER doc living in Alaska doing all kinds of amazing charity work, and we caught up over brunch with our partners. It’s so funny, because I know we are both older intellectually, but I still see her as the tall, red-haired girl in fifth grade, a little awkward, just as I was at that age. It’s kind of like going to a high school reunion and goes along with my theme of life assessments—when you see old friends who knew you when you were a kid, you also remember the paths you’ve both taken—and the ones you didn’t take. Like many of my friends from Tennessee and Cincinnati, we didn’t ever stay where we were put, and I like to think we’ve achieved some of the ambitions we had as our younger selves.
September also reminds us to get back to our regular routines and, yes, that involves maybe more attention to details, accounts, work. I have a tutorial to do and I’m trying to write new poems, work on a manuscript for my publisher, manage my social media (I got spoofed on Insta and Facebook this week, which was no fun), and send work to the lit mags that re-open on September 1 or thereabouts.
While summer is a good time to reflect and remember, fall is a good time to refocus and try to put energy into the things that are important to you. Sign up for that dental cleaning, put on a face mask, donate some old clothing or clean out the pantry, read that book you’ve been putting off, because it’s September! It may not be sweater weather yet, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get out my notebooks and sharpen my (metaphorical) pencils, so I’m ready.
August Rain, the Last Days of Lavender and Bobcats, Considering the Female Midlife Crisis Novel, and When You Know a Manuscript is Ready
- At August 26, 2024
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
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August Rain and the Last Days of Lavender and Bobcats
It’s been a rainy, cold week that reminds us again fall is on its way. For the pictures today, they were mostly taken on the one sunny day we had! But I liked the return of the rain, and so did my garden, mostly (I lost a couple of dahlias that snapped under the weight of the rain). We did have a brief visit from an adult bobcat, and I snapped a couple of shots of hummingbirds and goldfinches, but the birds are getting ready to molt and/or migrate. Fall/winter/spring here in the Pacific Northwest all bring out different wildlife and beauty, but it’s hard to not be a little sad about the flowers winding down and the swallows and Rufous hummingbirds leaving.
The Lavender Garden down the street is closing for the year on the last day of August, so we’ve been trying to get out when it’s nice to enjoy the last week of sunflowers, dahlias, and lavender. A pumpkin farm in roughly the same location will open up in about a month, so can’t wait for that. We also stopped by a local winery—but here’s a funny thing—three places we tried to go today were “closed for private events,” including the Seattle Zoo. Sometimes having a lot of millionaires (and 15 billionaires) in your town is kind of a bummer, because if you’re not in the 1 percent, everything is closed to you. I can’t afford to buy out a zoo or a winery on the only sunny day of the week at the end of summer! And there are three new snow leopard cubs I’m dying to see. (And if I was disappointed, imagine all the children parents brought to the zoo today only to find “closed for private event” at the door. They also closed down the main bridge out of the East side over the water for construction (which they’ve been doing since, oh, no exaggeration, 2008.) So we stayed around Woodinville. Sometimes the universe says “stay where you are!” LOL. Anyway, we did walk around and enjoy the sunshine, even if we couldn’t leave the area, so can’t really complain, can I?
I’ve been trying to get back to a regular sleep schedule (who knew sleep at night could be this elusive?), but I’ve been spending my nighttime awake hours reading. I’m still a little under the weather too, so spending time under the covers while it’s raining outside is okay. At the same time, I’ve been struggling with problems with my web site, for unknown reasons. I wish I could reboot my body to fix things as easily as easily as rebooting a server. Anyway, this is the bobcat visit below.
Considering the Female Midlife Crisis Novel
Speaking of bodily reboots, I’m thinking about the female midlife crisis novel/memoir/autofiction, which seems to be everywhere right now. Maybe there’s also something in the air with the Republican animosity towards “childless cat women” and “women’s bodily autonomy” but it’s sort of a counterpoint to decades (and centuries) of men’s midlife crisis books, too. Miranda July’s All Fours is all the critics are talking about, and they’re like “a novel about perimenopause for the first time ever!” which is definitely not true, because you could consider some of Virginia Woolf and Doris Lessing’s books that dealt with similar subject matter, and I know Lesley Wheeler wrote a fascinating book about the subject that didn’t get enough attention called Unbecoming that came out about year or so ago. (Totally worth reading and much more fun than some of the other books I’ve read!) Also read Liars by Sarah Manguso, which belongs in the same category and came out recently, but I could also include Maggie Smith’s You Could Make This Place Beautiful and Sabrina Orah Mark’s fairy-tale autofiction/memoir book Happily. I mean, not all of these books are exactly the same, but they circle around some of the same subject matter – women at midlife reconsidering being a wife and/or mother, dealing with lack of fulfillment in their work and home lives, reckoning with their achievements, illnesses, choices, etc. All Fours and Liars both talk way more about masturbation and sex and other bodily functions, maybe (but probably not more than Doris Lessing?) but this has been something that’s been a palpable movement in the world of memoir and literary fiction. A LOT of these books seem somewhat depressing to me—the subject matter especially of terrible husbands who cheat, then leave, but it turns out they were always terrible—not empowering, which is what I guess I would like to see instead? But hey, these things take time. The critics are right that this kind of novel is sort of…novel in the world of midlife crisis memoirs and novels. But can a woman’s midlife and perimenopause/menopause be an empowering time? I hope the answer is not NO, as I am still in perimenopause and wondering if the sleep disruptions are part of it, or any time I feel grumpy, frumpy, or disenchanted. Anyway, chime in with empowering female midlife crisis readings suggestions in the comments if you want.
How to Know if a Manuscript is Ready
Using these rainy, sleepless nights to catch up on work—making a tutorial, judging a poetry contest—and working on my seventh book manuscript, which I thought was done two years ago but then I added a lot more to it, and now I’m looking at an unwieldy hundred-page monster that I need to edit down and somehow make into a unified thing. Knowing when and if a poetry manuscript is ready is an art, not a science—sometimes they’ll need a tweak, like a title change and a shifting of first poem—and sometimes they’ll need an overhaul, which is what I’m doing right now—before they’re ready to send to a publisher, and it’s difficult sometimes to make that judgement. Especially when one is sleep deprived and half-sick. I usually write a good solid collection of poems around a single theme, but because the covid-19 pandemic happened in middle of writing these poems, it’s been tough to reign it in. Anyway, I hope to have it in somewhat finished form by October. That’s my goal, anyway.
Blue Supermoons, Thunderstorm, a Little Good News I Can’t Announce Yet and Other Literary News, Kirkland and Sunflower Sunsets
- At August 19, 2024
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
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Blue Supermoons, Thunderstorms, Kirkland and Sunflower Sunsets
Right now outside my window is August’s Blue Supermoon. A few days ago we had the biggest thunderstorm since 2019, a sign of the fall’s approach and the increasingly changing weather in the Pacific Northwest. Glenn and I tried to take advantage of lower temperatures by walking at sunset, one night in Kirkland, another night at our local JB Grower’s Lavender Farm, where the moon rose while listening to Jimmy Page and Alison Krauss at the concert next door. The light in the August evening makes everything more beautiful. Waking up at 3 or 4 AM I am able to garden a bit in the morning. The roses and hydrangeas in my garden are taller than I am, there are figs on my fig tree and apples on my apple tree, plus strawberry plants still providing strawberries. After the storm we brought in wet dahlias and hydrangeas in big vases. Already thinking about what to plant for next year.
I am finally getting some mental energy back, as well as sleeping short stretches – 3-4 hours – at night again. Not firing on all cylinders yet, but getting better, I think. And I got some surprise good news this week. Here are a few sunset pictures from Kirkland and Woodinville.
A Little Good News I Can’t Announce Yet, Plus Birds and Literary Stuff
So this week I got a little good news (which I can’t announce yet, but will soon!) I have to say, it’s amazing how these things can make so much difference to a poetry small press author. Very few of us get any real reach, the big prizes, any real recognition, so when you get good news, we better celebrate, right?
In other literary news, Calyx put up their poetry contest winners (I judged that contest) and I’m getting ready to read for another literary magazine’s contest. It’s nice to contribute in this way, especially because a big contest win early in my writing career meant so much to me. (You never know when someone needs that little push to stay a writer!)
I hope that as September approaches I will be doing more reading, writing, submitting, catching up on writer things. In the meantime though, some pink roses, a house finch, the blue Supermoon, and hummingbird. Wishing you stars and supermoons and poems.