My Poem “On Being Told You’re Dying” is Up on Poetry Daily Today!

I couldn’t be happier to say that Poetry Daily has my poem “On Being Told You’re Dying, but Not Quite Believing It” from Flare, Corona up today! I am so thankful as this is the first time ever one of my poems has been run there.

Here is a link and a sneak peek:

On Being Told You’re Dying, but Not Quite Believing It – Poetry Daily (poems.com)

Poem from Flare, Corona on Poetry Daily this Thursday, Full Moons and Sunsets, Lavender Festivals and Heat Waves

Me in lavender field, during their first festival, evening

EEK! A Poem from Flare, Corona on Poetry Daily this Thursday the 25th! Aah!

Yes, the day has been full of news, but I couldn’t help being super excited—after writing six books of poetry over almost 20 years—one of my poems is finally going to appear on Poetry Daily, this Thursday the 25th! I will of course put up a link here when it is up. I am so thankful for this little break and hope it leads to more people discovering Flare, Corona and reading it!

Here is the link live on the site today: On Being Told You’re Dying, but Not Quite Believing It – Poetry Daily (poems.com)

I also recommend listening to the Slowdown podcast this week and you might hear one of Kelli Russell Agodon’s poems there.

We had a crazy heat wave this week which made my MS symptoms worse, which meant a week of me out of commission. (Wake up! Your legs won’t work! Also, you can’t sleep but you’re so tired all the time! Also, dizzy and nauseous!) But I got one night cool enough to get to the lavender garden at sunset, enjoyed some daisies, and got to see this hot air balloon from my bedroom window one morning.

Full Moons and Sunsets, plus a New Democratic Candidate

A lot of stuff in the news today, but also an amazing sky. A very orange sun at sunset, and a very orange full Buck moon. Can’t tell whether it’s the late July bend of light or air pollution from fires, but it was really beautiful.

Politics has been moving at a head-spinning rate, but I was a supporter of Kamala Harris when she first ran for President, so I’m definitely a supporter now. I hope we can get our first woman President. I worry about America’s sexism and racism, I do, but I’m hoping that Americans do the right thing this time. In the meantime, I’m trying to fight off politics-laden anxiety attacks. Watching the moon rise can help.

30th Anniversaries, Birthday Celebrations, Small Beauties, Losses, and American Troubles

30th Anniversaries, Birthday Celebrations, Small Beauties

This was a big week for us

my husband Glenn’s 53rd birthday, and our 30th wedding anniversary, which I found out was the Pearl anniversary. It was super-hot for our holidays, so we mostly hid indoors and ate homemade cherry frozen yogurt, but we went to the Willows Lodge for our anniversary (blessedly well-air-conditioned) and had cocktails and salads (too hot for anything but that and ice cream!) We walked in the small garden only after it got dark, checking out the blooms and visiting their cute pair of pot-bellied pigs.

Glenn’s birthday, lavender field

For Glenn’s birthday, he wanted to go out for cheeseburgers, so we went to a gluten-safe outdoor place in Kirkland and then went to the lavender farm to see how the lavender was growing and the wildflowers were faring. It was still hot at 8 PM (over 80!) but we still managed to have fun, and I marveled at the Instagrammers bending into uncomfortable poses (I still haven’t mastered that Instagram habit of posing in a totally unnatural and uncomfortable way that seems most fetching?)  We were very thankful for the small beauties all around us – sweet potato fries (gluten free!) at the cheeseburger place, lavender honey ice cream on a hot day, flowers that show up unexpectedly in your garden (this year, giant hot-pink lilies, though our dahlias were eaten by slugs.) We were also thankful not to have on the news most of the time this week, because of our celebrations.

Losses and American Troubles

Red sunflower in our garden

We lost so many people in a week Shelley Duval, Dr. Ruth, Richard Simmons, and (exactly Glenn’s age) Shannen Doherty. Then the shooting at a Trump rally. I am old enough to remember the attempt on Ronald Reagen’s life—I was eight at the time—and know the Brady Bill that was passed eventually because of it. Perhaps something like that will happen again—a fire captain lost his life, after all, and people will recognize the need for more gun safety. We can hope, anyway.

Before the shooting incident, there were a lot of calls from Democrats for Biden to retire or stop running and step down. Some of the comments rubbed me the wrong way, not just the agism, but the ablism inherent in the criticisms. (I legitimately do have a neurological condition, and it doesn’t make me stupid or incompetent. And I have to take a cognitive test—two hours’ worth—every year because of my MS.)  I like Kamala Harris quite a bit as a candidate, but I still didn’t like the comments people were making or the tone they were taking.

Hummingbird and verbena

I don’t usually do much political blogging here—I try to stick to the writing life and living with disability and chronic illness, as well as pictures of my (mostly Pacific Northwest) surroundings. I can understand how people feel confusion, anger, frustration, and disenfranchisement with America and its systems right now. I try not to give into despair even in seemingly endless lists of end-times events.

Perhaps focusing on small beauties in the best thing to do. Not to squeeze our eyes and ears shut, but to open them wider – to the wider world around us, not just the news that social media and television scream at us in increasingly alarming tones. To the person who lives across from us, to the birds and flowers, to the cherries at the farm stand or the friend who needs a visit who’s been in the hospital, or the relative across the country who’s been fighting with cancer.  Because we are not powerless, though at times we can feel that way. We can do small kindnesses, donate to charities we believe in, treat each other with understanding. Hug our cats and our loved ones. Tomorrow is not guaranteed to any of us, but in the waiting, we get to decide what we focus on, what we spend our energy on, what we place into timelines or gardens.

July 4, Lavender Farms, Heatwaves and Midsummer Realizations

July 4, Lavender Farms, and Heatwaves

Mt Rainier with Lavender Farm

I hope you had a good July 4th. We were still in recovery from last week’s illness, so we skipped the July 4 celebrations this year (I’m not a huge fireworks person anyway—what with asthma and PSTD) but I did look up some cool Wonder Woman fighting Nazis artwork that used to be up on my blog for the occasion.

And I finally got to visit the lavender farm (briefly) despite the extreme heat (90 almost every day!) and the colors of the different lavenders were unfolding beautifully in front of a Mt Rainier sunset, so it was really gorgeous. I am very lucky to have this place within walking distance of my house. It smelled as beautiful as it looks, by the way.

Midsummer Realizations

Me and Glenn and lavender and Mt Rainier to the left with sunset

As I was recovering, I was watching a lot of television and ended up watching a lot of the show Lottery Dream Home. It got me thinking about what I would do if I won the lottery, would I want a new dream home? Our home isn’t perfect (hence the ADA bath remodel in the works), but it works pretty well for us. I like our neighbors and our local farm stands and wineries (though I don’t drink much wine) and the house is a little small for entertaining, and I don’t love having an HOA, but basically it fills our needs, and I wouldn’t trade it. It might be nice to have a second home somewhere warmer and sunnier in winter but it’s definitely not a necessity, and I’d probably be more likely to spend money on home improvements (more built-in bookshelves?) or starting a scholarship or charity for writers with disabilities than another home. It also strangely made me feel more okay about my life in general. Of course, more money would be great—or more poetry-world success—but are those things really that important? More health would be really, really helpful, of course. (I’m working on it, with a team of doctors, of course.) But ultimately, I’m pretty…dare I say it…okay with my life right now. Of course, I have anxieties about the normal things—especially about how my parents are aging many miles away—am I doing enough good in the world, etc.—but not feeling as panic-stricken as I did, say a month ago or so. Not sure why the shift, but a week away in a beautiful remote rugged island and then another week in a hospital WILL give you perspective.

So, the next week is my 30th anniversary and Glenn’s birthday, and so we need to think about and give some space to celebration, and hopefully, we’ll be caught up enough from our health crises and trips to be able to do that. (It is supposed to be 93°F with bad air on our anniversary, sadly, so we will have to put off any outdoor fun ’til after that…)

San Juan Island Report Part 2—This Time with Hospitalization at the End

Typewriter on Lime Kiln Point, cruise ship—a new perspective

Part II of San Juan Island Report

This is the second part of my San Juan Island writer’s retreat report, you can read Part I of my report here.

I do love the fact that the island wildlife is so different than ours in Woodinville—filled with blooming orange and red poppies, lush pink dogwood, and of course, more foxes and whales. I loved watching the sea for seals, porpoises, and orcas, although I consider myself more of a woodsy/mountain elf than an ocean elf, if you know what I mean.

And I really did have time to write a few poems, look at the order of the manuscript, tweak it a bit, and cut about ten poems (needed, unfortunately). I think the real benefit of giving yourself a dedicated writing retreat—be it in the desert, or the woods, or an isolated island—is that it forces you into new thoughts, new perspectives, and maybe even new inspirations. Does seeing new flora and fauna, even experiencing the discomforts of being in a new place, cause our brains to work a little better, a little harder?

Hospitalization at the End

Ah, in happier times, overlooking the ocean

Unfortunately, as soon as we arrived home from our trip, I was seized by the worst case of stomach virus I have ever had. I went to the ER, but they admitted me to the hospital.  Then, Glenn got sick with it too. So that’s basically been our whole week. We’ve been sick as long as we were on the road! During which time, French elections, a terrible Amercian debate, the Olympic trials, and a bunch of supreme court decisions. All of which I am just learning about now, as I’ve been too sick to even check my phone. (You know that’s pretty sick!)

Happy Solstice, Strawberry Moon, and Part 1 of San Juan Island Writing Retreat with Foxes

Solstice Sunset with Lime Kiln Lighthouse

Happy Solstice, Strawberry Moon, and a Change of Location: San Juan Island

Hello and Happy Solstice and Strawberry Moon days. I’m writing from away, out on San Juan Island, surrounded by eagles and deer and ferries. I have been grumpy and sickly lately, so it was good to get away, get some perspective, take some time away from television and internet and doctor’s appointments, and spend time on my next book and in nature. Sometimes a change of scenery really is necessary, despite the fact that I’m mostly a homebody (and that goes double for Glenn).

It was a beautiful trip, and we did a big hike the first day here, which happened to be the Solstice. We spent the last two hours of sun at Lime Kiln Point, and then saw the full Strawberry Moon rise on our drive back to our cabin. Because I also have a photography habit on top of my poetry habit, prepare for lots of pictures in this post (and probably the next).

Writing Retreat with Foxes

Glenn and I, just moments after spotting a humpback whale and calf blowing water

After a good experience with a residency this year in Palm Desert, I applied on a whim for this one on San Juan Island, and I was so happy to have it. The cabins are quirky and rustic, but afford beautiful views of the harbor, you have access to a science library and equipment, and previous visits have inspired poems that ended up in some pretty good magazines, most recently, “Cassandra as Climate Scientist” in California Quarterly. The first day a golden eagle circled overhead when I stepped out in the morning, which I took as a good sign. We saw lots of foxes, a healthy deer and rabbit population, multiple bald eagles, and even a few whales (humpback and orca). It’s really a biologist/poet’s dream.

So, my goal this time was to shed some poems from my overly long manuscript, and maybe tweak some of the order, and so far, I’ve been able to do that. I split it into sections to work on, making sure sections read as little mini narratives and led into each other logically. I don’t want to worry the manuscript to death, but when I started it, Trump had just taken office, and the pandemic had not happened, so some changes, new poems, and new arcs were necessary. A couple of new characters jumped into the book.

But in between writing, updating my submission records (woefully behind), and editing the manuscript, I got out on the beach, onto rocky crests (with some assistance from Glenn, a cane, and sometimes a wheelchair), and hit the local bookstore. We were sad to see the local lavender farm on the island had closed just in March but pleased with a new livestream showing whales in real time at Lime Kiln Lighthouse. I loved spending more time than usual outdoors (despite mosquito bites—ouch!) and felt like I had more physical energy on the island. Here are some wildlife photos I took during the first few days. More will follow in the next post, I promise. (Foxes! Whales! Birds of some sort!) And you will find out the exciting conclusion of the residency impact my next book!

Stay tuned for Part II…and more pictures!

Two Week Post: a Bunch of Small Disasters, June-uary in Seattle, Hoping for Inspiration, Poem in The Shore, Plus Roses, Typewriters, and Cats

me with summer hair and pink and yellow peonies

A Two-Week Post: Bunch of Small Disasters, June-uary in Seattle

Sorry to miss you last week! Our home has been a source of small disasters and I had a lot of mostly bad on my plate: Glenn’s parents in the hospital last week after a dual fall, I broke a tooth and had to wait a week to get it repaired (oh, and did I mention, it ended up being four broken teeth? My jaw doesn’t know its own strength), I’ve been sick with a never-ending upper respiratory infection and got some troubling news from the immunologist after a ton of blood work, and the weather has truly been more like February than June, with temps in the fifties, thunderstorms, rain.

On top of this, my Apple watch—a gift from my husband that’s truly a safety measure (it does alert Glenn if I fall, for instance—and Glenn was actually contacted about his father’s fall this last week too)—dropped dead, as did my replacement computer (purchased just six months ago) to replace my randomly-restarting old computer, just before I have to do a recorded tutorial and leave town, because of course all the tech drops dead when you’re sick, stressed, and need it desperately.

When you feel like the chickadee, not the goldfinch

Besides this, I’ve been feeling disappointed and disillusioned with PoetryWorld in general. I haven’t been writing or submitting much. It feels like a stacked deck that after 30 years I’ve never truly cracked. My last book, Flare, Corona, which I had high hopes for (and hired a publicist for), just didn’t get much in the way of attention, reviews, prizes – and this after 25 years of doing poetry book reviews for others, which makes me feel a little…bitter? (Lesley Wheeler, who certainly deserves acclaim for her fiction, non-fiction and poetry, all of which she writes terrifically, says something similar, with less bitterness and more grace, on her blog this week.)  There have been scandals in the lit mag world, closings of MFA programs and journals, and people on social media lamenting this way and that, plus rage and accusation at different literary organizations for various sins that I don’t even know much about. It seems like a toxic stew out there of anger, grief, disappointment. And that’s just the poetry world—I’ve turned off the news in the last two weeks—I’m usually a Seattle Times, BBC news regular—as my stress level can’t handle more bad news, though I’m sure it’s out there.

I need to figure out my inspiration again, why I write what I do, the things that bring me joy about it. Right now, I can’t really remember, or worse, feel stupid for once loving it. I should have known it was a closed system 25 years ago. Or that’s what my bitter cynical side tells me. I try to ignore that voice.

A Poem in The Shore

But that doesn’t mean I’ve given up completely! I’m still publishing and working on my next book. Here’s proof—a Cassandra poem from a series I’m working on for the next book that was recently published at The Shore. 

Here’s a snippet graphic, plus a link to read the whole poem at The Shore:

Jeannine Hall Gailey “Cassandra Explains the Secrets of Survival, Plague Edition” — THE SHORE (theshorepoetry.org)

Roses, Typewriters, and Cats

I’ve been trying to get out whenever we get a sunbreak, because the flowers are still blooming like its June, even if it doesn’t really feel like it.

So here are some roses from around Woodinville:

And though it was raining, there was a flower and art cart outside of my hair place in Kirkland, which seemed like magic and Paris and all things cool and charming, and I got some gorgeous (and wonderful smelling) pink and yellow peonies, which made me feel like taking some pictures of typewriter and peonies, and my cats Sylvia and Charlotte decided to get into the game too. Well, they are named after literary characters, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised! Now these ladies are true stars! I hope this cheers you up as much as it does me.

The next time I post I will have been away at a writer’s retreat, hopefully feeling better health-wise and writing-inspiration-wise.

Oh, and the weird health news—I already knew I had a primary immune deficiency I was born with, but on top of that, they found a proliferation of B cells and lymphocytes, the B cells weren’t acting normally, and some of the news could indicate a kind of cancer. But the immunologist is leaning towards this diagnosis, which is very similar to what the singer Halsey was just diagnosed with, but with B cells instead of T cells. (But I have MS and not lupus on top of it.) I’m not totally out of the woods in terms of scariness, and it’s always stressful to find out new and exciting things are wrong with you (and lead to, for instance, not being able to fight off infections very well). But then again, new information can help you find new ways to treat your problems? I hope?

Here’s hoping that a little time away in the wilderness—where power and internet are not a given—will give me some much-needed perspective and a chance to spark new ideas and a new mindset. I truly am an optimistic person, so maybe this trip will reset me. Like my darn computer. (I wish I had a warrantee—I wish to speak to the manufacturer, please?)

On a Good Day, Podcast News, Presidential Felonies, Peonies, and Chocolates

Glenn and I at Meydenbauer Bay Park

On a Good Day

You wouldn’t know it, because right now it is below 50°F and pouring rain, but we did actually get a couple of nice, normal May Spring days this week, and we got out to make the most of them. On one, we checked out a local park, Meydenbauer Bay Park in Bellevue, and stopped by a place I hadn’t been in person in years, Fran’s Chocolates (located in Old Town Bellevue). The sun felt good, I got to reminisce with one of the Fran’s employees about the old days when they made terrific burnt sugar ice cream and Fran wasn’t really famous yet, and I sat outside sipping hot chocolate and feeling the sun and feeling happy.

On Thursday, I had another terrific day—the sun came back out for us after a terrible wet cold May, got to talk with a cool podcast about a very cool poem, and then got a strawberry Frappuccino and gluten-free safe sweet potato fries (both rarities for me—food allergies make eating out at all a risk) And got an armful of peonies. Also, there was a guy convicted of a bunch of felonies which hopefully will lead to better people in our government overall (if you don’t do crimes, you’ll be better off, and we could use a less corrupt government right now, don’t you think?)

Now, for the rest of the week…I found out, in the same day, day my hairdresser of 20 years was leaving, my allergist was quitting (this is after losing an allergist of 20 years during the pandemic and getting this new one sigh) and going to the East Coast, and I also had some bad news about a family member, all while battling a fever, sniffles, and cold gloomy weather.

I have to remember that on a good day, my body isn’t failing at everything, people aren’t always leaving, the sun really does shine once in a while, and the right chocolate at the right time as well as an armful of pink peonies can really be magic.

And here are some pictures of birds:

Podcast News

Rufous hummingbird in flight

I learned a lot about podcasting this week as I was interviewed (can’t tell you which or why yet, it’s a secret, but I’ll tell you when it is supposed to be on) and got to chat with two of the podcast’s producers. For instance, did you know, for a fairly successful arts podcast, at least ten people work on it to get every episode, besides the person you hear talking? It takes a lot of work to make those things work.

I also thought about how podcasting poetry has maybe replaced what we used to think of as radio show poetry, like The Writer’s Almanac—now we might listen to The Slowdown or The Commonplace or podcasts of friends or the Poetry Foundation. There’s so much out there, and such a lot of voices, in some ways it’s overwhelming, but it also gives the feeling of a bigger, more inclusive community of poets.

Grumpy Great Blue Heron

I’m also reminded that the “news” that we get—whether from local newspapers, or television channels, or on Twitter or other social media—so much of it is so specific now, targeted in a way it didn’t used to be, that you have to really work to get outside the bubble of your own friends or region or party or whatever. People have talked about how depressing the news can be, which is true, but have you ever noticed some news sources are way more depressing than others? That some echo your own belief system more than others? I’m someone who studied journalism a bit in college, and getting what I can consider “unbiased” sources has become difficult, maybe impossible? Propaganda and “fake news” is everywhere, and most people, I’m afraid, will believe propaganda over truth if they never get a chance to see truth but their social media keeps showing them propaganda bots information.  But if that’s the case, then maybe this blog and its news about the birds and poetry and health—could be considered news, if only from on person’s very limited perspective? I’ll think about this some more. I mean, we tend to think of “news” as—I don’t know, crime waves or politics or wars. I remember the day the Iranian president went missing, someone I knew in Iran, as the “news” talked of Iran grieving, showed fireworks and people in the street dancing. What is the real news there? Is the official party line or is it one person’s street full of celebration? Which is more truthful? It’s why I think it’s important to travel, to read widely, to talk to people who might be different than us—different religions, races, countries, jobs, sexual orientations—because it’s too easy to only see our own point of view, or that of the dominant culture where we live. It’s like, we have the opportunity to think more widely than AI or algorithms might tell us we can, but sometimes, we have to take the time to look for those opportunities. It’s why I like to read people’s blogs, even now that some people consider them obsolete—because the personal take might look closely at just one area—say, the viewpoint of a librarian in Chicago or an academic in Virginia, or a clergyperson in North Carolina—but every take helps me understand the world from their eyes. Plus, I can only take so many reels about recipes or personal style before I go insane. I wish there were more videos of people’s home libraries instead. Hey, can we make that a trend?

This is your neighborhood poet reporting from Woodinville, Washington in the rain, and saying, be safe, happy June, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Japanese Gardens, Blood Draws, ThrowBacks, and Thinking About The Secret of NIMH and Children’s Culture

A Week of Blood Draws, Throwback, and a Visit to the Japanese Gardens

Hello my friends! It’s been a weird week here. A wonderful book club meeting at the J. Bookwalter Tasting Studio to talk about The Husbands: A Novel with great weather and a lovely sunset. The next day, downtown to the hospital to have about 75 (I’m exaggerating, but it really was 15!) tubes of blood drawn from about seven different doctors. My mother sent me a picture of myself when I was about 22 (she’s been going through her old pictures), which I’ll post somewhere below. But as I was recovering from the big blood draw, we also had terrible, cold February weather, and I was feeling weak and tired and grumpy, I watched a few of my old favorite childhood movies—namely, the Secret of NIMH and Dark Crystal. I’ll talk about that a bit later. Anyway, today still looked pretty dismal, but I wanted to see the Japanese Gardens in Seattle while the wisteria was still in bloom, so we did, and it was lovely—the water lilies, rhododendrons, and water iris all in bloom. Considering the gloomy weather, I was surprised at how crowded it was, mostly with large tourist families and a few students from the UW. People were in a kind mood, smiling at each other and helping take pictures. It definitely cheered me up. (In surprising health news, one thing the test showed was that I still haven’t had covid, and I still have immunity from my J&J shot in 21! Isn’t that crazy?)

Throwbacks, Secret of NIMH, and Children’s Culture Changes

Picture of me at about 22

My mother sent me this picture of myself at 22, when I first tried to go blonde. I ended up with a platinum pixie with asymmetrical bangs, so, you know, not for everyone. Check out the framed photograph! This was from one of my earliest apartments. Almost 30 years later, still trying to go blonde or pink or experimenting with my hair.

As I said, I was recovering from my blood draw (and it turned out from the blood work that I have been as sick as I thought, all sorts of stuff was out), so I got to watching old movies. Two children’s movies that had a great deal of impact on me as a young person were The Secret of NIMH and The Dark Crystal, both of which came out when I was nine years old, in 1982. (I posted something on Facebook about these two movies.)

Sunset after book club this week

I actually read Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH as a book (which is science fiction, by the way, not fantasy, like the movie—there was no amulet or magic in the book) before I saw the movie. I still think about what I learned from reading Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH and how it influenced me as I studied biology (and refused to experiment on rats as a result—I stuck to tomatoes!) and also my, um, healthy skepticism of government institutions. The Dark Crystal and my apparent resemblance as a child to the “gelfling”—my ears stuck out quite a bit as a kid and the other kids loved calling me gelfling—and its chilling message of darkness and light being quite closely related (if you remember the ending).

Glenn and I at the Japanese Garden

I wonder if children today get as close to the edge of too scary, too dark—in their movies as we did in the eighties. (Disney turned down Secret of NIMH because it was “too dark”—but it had a wonderful feminist message than a non-extraordinary mouse—a poor widow with four kids, no less—can be as powerful as lab-enhanced rat intelligence or human farmer’s plows.) People talk about the “toughness” of GenX—the latchkey kid thing, the riding bikes without helmets, the parents smoking in the car with the windows rolled up—but there was something in the kid’s lit and movies of the time, too—I’m thinking of books like Swiftly Tilting Planet and The Wizard Children of Finn about children saving the future and the past by themselves, with little parental oversight. I was thinking about how the culture both impacts and mirrors a generation.

This started a great conversation, people talking about the movies that frightened them when they were kids, what their own kids watch, fairy tales and the dark side of things. I also saw Miyazaki’s Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind when I was ten—it must have come out through Disney, which has that same combination of darkness and a young female hero—in this case, almost a Christ figure, who has to come between toxic animals and plants and humans who want to destroy them—involving the fallout of nuclear war, a common theme in Miyazaki movies. While many of children’s movies these days—I’m thinking of the Trolls or Minions movies, or eek, even Paw Patrol—movies so light they barely land in the psyche, my mother talked to me about the contrast in the darkness of teen lit right now, using The Hunger Games and its relations as examples of darkness without the hopefulness of the kinds of books I read as a kid. What do you think? How have children’s books and movies changed since you were a kid compared to now? If you have kids, what do you notice about how the consume media? Do they shelter young children too much with stories that are too light, and present a hopeless future to teens? I’d love to hear your thoughts on these musings of youth and movie experiences.

“Serendipity” on LitBowl, Hummingbirds, and Baby Bunnies

Rufous immature hummingbird

Hummingbirds and Baby Bunnies

Though spring and summer seem a little confused lately (Two days at over 80 degrees, then a fifty degree day with cold rain) I swear we are in the late spring/early summer phase, which means lots of birds, and the occasional baby: goslings, ducklings, ospreys learning to fly and baby bunnies.

This week was supposed to be full of medical appointments but was too sick, ironically, to attend, so I had time at home to take pictures and read some of the books that have been accumulating in my room. (Earthlings by Sayaka Murata, Brother and Sister Enter a Forest by Richard Mirabella, among others.)

Last week I was saying I didn’t feel much like a writer, but then I got an acceptance and a handful of rejections (editors clearing their desks for summer), wrote a few poems, and sent out one or two submissions, so I guess that didn’t last too long. That’s usually how it is—I might have a slow period where nothing happens, then I’ll get inspired by something and get going. This week at our Bookwalter’s Winery book club we’ll be discussing the fascinating book, The Husbands: a Novel by Holly Gramazio, which I really loved and am looking forward to seeing what other people thought about it!

A Poem from Flare, Corona featured on LitBowl

This week I was lucky enough to have a poem from Flare, Corona go mildly (?) viral on social media when it was featured by LitBowl, which puts up poems on Instagram and other social media. The poem was “Serendipity.” Here it is if you want to read it yourself. Things like this can help sell books, which is nice around the book’s one-year birthday. Thanks, LitBowl!

Life news has seemed even more apocalyptic than usual these days, so if you, like me, need a break, reading poetry and short stories can help.

If you decide you want a copy for yourself, you can order it here: Flare, Corona