What is the Lifespan of a Poetry Book, Saying Goodbye to Ursula Le Guin, and the Value of Little Girls’ Voices

What is the Lifespan of a Poetry Book?

It’s January, traditionally a time you might hear from your publisher(s), possibly with royalty checks and reports of some sales numbers from your book(s) over the last year. When you first publish a book of poetry, you probably aren’t thinking about its longevity – how long it will stay in print, how many years the book will be taught in classes, or how it will perform in a decade. You’re all about the excitement of firsts– waiting for those first reviews anxiously, setting up readings and college visits. But poetry, unlike fiction, often has a long shelf life. And some of what gives a poetry book a longer shelf life may be out of our control. In a way that’s a relief – it takes some of the pressure off of us – and in a way it’s sad, because we don’t control which books catch an audience’s attention and keep it.

Many of my friends who published books ten years ago – and have gone on to publish several subsequent books – are still having their first books taught! Sometimes because their first books got the big push of publicity in the beginning, sometimes because of word of mouth, and sometimes because poetry books can take a little while to get to their readers.  I would say that for two of my books at least, the second year of sales was better than the first! (I talk a little bit about this subject in my upcoming book, PR for Poets, from Two Sylvias Press – in the section about our expectations for our books. I think we tend to burn ourselves out trying to do too much in the beginning of a book’s lifespan, not realizing it is definitely a marathon, not a sprint.)

If you’ve been following this blog, you know the last year has been remarkably tough – and the last week, I spent more time on the phone with pharmaceutical companies trying to get insurance approval for a very expensive MS drug and financial assistance, plus long doctor and dentist appointments that have left me in bad shape – physically drained (and recent blood work indicates yep, I’m sick and anemic and need to rest and heal more than I have been.) I have been feeling guilty about not being able to go do college visits or readings in the past six months dealing with the severe MS attack that put me in the hospital and left me re-learning how to walk and talk and text. I put in several hours yesterday with a rehab specialty neurologist, who will help me learn how to walk better, deal with the MS changes to my brain wiring, and memory  problems.  But weirdly, the little books I put out into the world kept going even when I couldn’t – they don’t need a cane to travel or take time off to heal – and I’m grateful for that. People still teach my book from 2006, twelve years ago, Becoming the Villainess! When I was writing the book, I definitely did not anticipate it being taught across the country years after its publication. Hopefully they will teach my newest book, Field Guide to the End of the World, twelve years from now – just imagine! One might anticipate that the future will be slightly less apocalyptic than the current time, what with the Doomsday Clock being two minutes to midnight and anxieties about nuclear war and environmental destruction and all that. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Speaking of which, if you’re interested in teaching any of my books, please let me know what I can do to support that choice! I can Skype in or e-mail with students or even provide a little background for students if you think they might be interested. I am so grateful for instructors and professors who decide to put my work in front of their students, for people who decided to buy my book out the blue, for those who recommend my book to others or choose to review it. There is a life for each of our books that is somewhat magical, and in a way more powerful and immortal than our human bodies, and I am thankful for that.

Goodbye Ursula Le Guin. We will miss you.

Speaking of people whose books will have a long life, I am very sad to note the death this week of Ursula Le Guin, whose books I read in high school and who was an inspiration for speculative writers everywhere. She demanded – I saw her speak a couple of times, most memorably on the Oregon Coast during a giant storm where the windows were rattling with wind and thunder – that speculative writing not be put in a separate and lesser category, that women’s writing get equal considerations as men’s, and that poetry be given equal attention as fiction. She didn’t act like any of those demands were unusual or impossible. I still hope to one day gain her bravery and refusal to put with nonsense as well as her ability to imagine a better world.

Here’s Margaret Atwood’s tribute to Ursula: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/jan/24/ursula-k-le-guin-margaret-atwood-tribute

Testify

Speaking of speaking out and being brave – one difficult thing going on this week has been the testimonies of so many brave gymnasts against the doctor that had molested over 100 little girls, among them US Olympic champions, many of whom had told someone – several someones – and been ignored. One of the things that has made our society so poisonous is how we discount and ignore little girls’ voices. If a little girl ever trusts you enough to tell you someone has done something bad to her, believe her and make some noise. Make a ruckus. Make sure that bad person – usually a man, let’s be real – never has the ability to do something bad to a little girl again. I was a six-year-old rape victim who was ignored. Teach little girls that their voices matter, that they can make a difference. I am so proud of those young women giving their testimonies, in public, which is difficult, and happy that they convicted the doctor, that he won’t be able to hurt little girls ever again. But consider how many people turned a blind eye over the years that these girls raised their voices. That is the illness in our society that the women’s march, the #metoo movement, and the #timesup are all trying to draw attention to, and change.

Getting the Most from January Doldrums, Spoon River Poetry Review Surprise, the Benefits of Downtime

What are Doldrums Good For?

Ah, January Doldrums – have you caught them yet? Like the cold that’s been dragging me around for a couple of weeks, like the resolutions you might already feel you’ve let yourselves down with, like the seemingly endless cold, short days – the doldrums can be tough to avoid and sap your energy. This is the time for extra self-care, from taking vitamin C to drinking hot chocolate by a fire to streaming something uplifting or finally cracking open that book you’ve had on your bedside table for a while. See? The doldrums can be good for some things. We humans like to be busy, but something about January – either a bout of the flu, or the bad weather – forces us to slow down and be quiet. It’s a good time to refocus, to cast aside clothes that no longer fit and goals that no longer fit, to look forward to spring (mulching never seemed so optimistic.)

January surprise – Spoon River Poetry Review

Glenn took me out to the local bookstore to cheer me up, and we decided to browse the literary magazine section. Glenn picked up a copy of Spoon River Poetry Review – which I’d never seen at this particular bookstore before, at random, and said, “Jeannine – your name is in here!” Spoon River Poetry Review published a long and interesting essay on apocalyptic poetry in its latest issue, which quoted quite a bit from a guest post I did on apocalypse poetry a while ago on Trish Hopskinson’s blog. And here’s Sylvia posing fetchingly with the issue, which is really very good. It was a reminder that I don’t necessarily know and read all the good journals out there, that I don’t really know what influences people when I write (is anybody out there? Is the usual feeling I get from writing blog posts, lol.) That surprises can find us in unexpected places and unexpected ways.

Cue: The Benefits of Downtime, or Why Not to be Productive ALL the Time

So the last several days I’ve been beaten into submission by the combo of the following: the aforementioned cold, a nasty root-cap – which averted a root canal – and my first full crown – sans novocaine as usual and ahem super painful even for me and my superhero-like dental pain tolerance, a little flare up of my MS symptoms, and short dark days with weather that could charitably be described at “sullen.” This has led me to 1. watch way more movies and listen to more audiobooks than usual (as reading has been impossible with a little double-vision/migraine 1-2 punch) 2. think about things to do to help myself be as healthy as possible (hello, vitamin D gummies and new soup recipes!) and 3. be still and breathe, which is something I resist automatically unless dramatically forced into it. I’m not a yoga person, I hate meditation. When I’m stuck in hospital beds or out in nature, I’m not silent – I typically sing! (I was even singing a little in the dentist’s chair, thanks to ativan and Aimee Mann and Beyonce.) I’m extroverted and a do-er, not a be-er. It’ s the opposite of all the spiritual advice I’ve ever read – and particularly un-useful for someone with chronic illness. I have several “get-er-done” overachieving friends with chronic illnesses that I constantly have to shut my mouth to keep from advising them to “do less” when they suffer side effects from overdoing even though I hate getting that advice myself. Getting comfortable with “doing nothing” is tough. But I’ve noticed it yields insights – into destructive behavior patterns, long-held beliefs that aren’t helpful, etc – that absolutely nothing else does. Outside right now – at 1 AM -thanks steroids! – the wind is making a lot of “look at me” noise in the trees, icy hail pellets are bouncing off the deck, and I’m pretty sure it got dark at 4 PM. But see those pictures at the top of the post? Even now, in January, surely not the time of year to visit the Northwest, there is beauty to be found – brief sunlight on the Anna’s hummingbirds and mysterious early pink blooms in a local garden path. I think it’s part of the pattern of normal human behavior to tend to hibernate during the dead of winter, but for writers, this hibernation can be put to use. We may not see its immediate rewards yet. Cleaning out our closets, reading books or browsing sections of the bookstore we don’t normally see, or taking on a regimen of vegetables we don’t normally eat, or deciding which friends we need to have more of in our lives, which are really rooting for us and which are not – these things will have lasting benefits down the road. Consider downtime as not so much of an obstacle, but a necessity that will help us – just like our garden – to produce better and lasting results. If we look at it that way, we’re less likely to be resentful of a day or two spent in bed, not wasted but rewarding.

What I’ve Learned from My Millennial Friends as a Gen-X Writer, or, How to Submit like a Millennial

What I’ve Learned from My Millennial Friends as a Gen-X Writer, or, How to Submit like a Millennial

A few years ago, my friend Kelli wrote a very popular blog post called “Submit Like a Man,” (now archived on Medium,) talking about her experiences with how she observed women submitting as an editor and how she encouraged women to submit more often, more widely, and respond to editors’ encouragement. A great post.

But today I’m going to say – maybe we should learn to “submit like a millennial.”

I was thinking about the many things about the literary culture that are changing because of the younger generation, especially young women, that inspire me. My female millennial writer friends are much more hard-core about submitting their work faster and more often than I do. I never considered myself a slacker in the submissions department, but my younger friends have inspired me to try even harder, try better venues, and simultaneously submit more. They have also taught me how Twitter and Instagram can be positive forces for poetry! (I was dragged into both kicking and screaming. I may still not completely get Instagram, but I’m learning.) Also, they are very social justice focused, and demand to be treated equitably – which we should have been demanding all along, but a lot of women in my generation just assumed, maybe, it would never get better and we couldn’t change it. We were often told “that’s they way things are” and accepted that. The young women I’ve taught, mentored, encountered, and/or befriended do not assume that…They assume they can change the world. And I’m glad about that.

  • Get your work out into the world. And sometimes f-ck the rules.
    This was a hard lesson for me, because I’m very much a play-by-the-rules person. But watching my millennial friends talk about how often they submit their work was an eye-opener for me. I had never ever simultaneously submitted (“sim subbed”) to more than two places at a time…since I was twenty. I didn’t sim sub to places that asked me not to. But in the last eighteen months, when I was diagnosed first with terminal cancer and then MS, I realized “If not now, then when?” Some literary magazines ask you not to simultaneously submit, then don’t get back to you for six months. Some lit mags take a year to get back to us with a rejection – and that’s not a rare occurrence. I think I realized my mortality, that I could literally die before my poems got published. And I watched my millennial friends, who posted that they sent their pieces to five places at a time – I couldn’t imagine keeping the Excel spreadsheet for that kind of velocity, but it did help me realize that maybe it was okay to send to more than two places at a time. Also I learned to aim higher – and had the positive experience of poems being taken at great places I had not submitted to too often because…they were too good for me? Sometimes our cages are of our own making. Aim high! Don’t be afraid of success.
    When I posted about the subject on Facebook, Hope Erica said: “Millennials rock. They fear less, and are ruled by their fear less, then I was. Our stretch goals for acceptance are their minimum that they will tolerate.”
    Yes. Our goals are their minimums. Think about that.
  • Let social media work for you. And for goodness’ sake, have some fun!
    I’ll admit I was scared of Twitter. How was I going to say anything substantive in 140 characters? But my millennial friends made Twitter seem fun! They posted lines from poems they liked, quipped about their days, posted pics from their creative work, and generally encouraged and posted about other writers they liked. It wasn’t the hate-filled crazy place I was worried about – at least not after I muted a few people and learned what hashtags were. Anyway, younger people just do what they want – social media isn’t work for them, it’s fun – not a chore. We X-ers could learn something about that! Kaveh Akbar is a hit on Twitter, not only because he’s a good writer, but because he’s hilarious and generous in his praise of others.
  • It’s allowed to be all about you once in a while. People complain about the “selfie generation,” older generations lob the accusation that millennials can seem a bit narcissistic. But there is a balance – in the way they bring attention to themselves, they also bring attention to others. I literally cringed through writing my upcoming book PR for Poets, because I felt so much shame about trying to help others bring attention to their own poetry books. Ridiculous, you think? But my generation was shamed for behavior that was sometimes just good sense or for feeling like they had the right to be successful, especially if you were a woman.  If you don’t like and promote your work, no one else is going to, right? Promote your work, and remember to promote others as you go. You can post that picture of yourself in the funny hat, but also when your best friend wins a book contest, make some noise. Don’t be ashamed because you are proud of what you’ve achieved. I love seeing my younger friends post about their accomplishments – I’m not mad at them for doing it, I’m happy for them. Chances are, your friends will be happy to see your good news, and if not, um, why are they your friends?
    On Facebook, Sally Rosen Kindred said this: “The millennial feminist poets (male, female, and non-binary) whom I deal with most frequently online have impressed me with their bad-ass dedication to writing and submitting, as well as reading and supporting fellow poets by getting the word out about their work. They’ve also taught me to forgive myself and reward myself when I’m beating myself up about my writing practice, my writing’s quality, and my frustration and fatigue in the face of injustice in this country. They are a fierce and compassionate generation of poets and I am so glad to be alive while they are. “
  • Start things. Don’t be afraid. Bring your own literary community. Women are speaking up for themselves. I’ve been around a lot of men who took advantage of women in the literary community. I didn’t make too much noise about the things I experienced in work and school when I was disparaged, condescended to, discriminated against. But young women are making noise now, which has been making women my age say to themselves, “Yeah, and why did we think that was okay again?” It’s not okay to be harassed, belittled, threatened, so why should we pretend it is something we should just “get over?” Millennials repeated message to the gate-keepers who are keeping women and people of color down? Do better. They are demanding it.
    Starting your own thing: Some of the most fun reading series I’ve attended were started by young women who were like, “Can’t we have some fun with this literary event?” (The answer is…yes!) When my friends got tired of not seeing literary magazines or publishers that supported the kind of work they liked, they started them. I am so excited to see younger women starting literary magazines, reading series, groups where they workshop and support each other’s work, helping each other find jobs and places to publish – that is really what will change the world. My younger friends have a more optimistic view of the literary world, and why not? It makes me feel more optimistic too. Why can’t things change for the better? Radical thought.

I’m thankful for all my millennial friends for your inspiration! What about you? Are you a millennial with inspiration advice for us X-ers? Are you an X-er or Boomer who has benefited from befriending younger writers? Please leave your thoughts in the comments!

2018 so far: A Poem in Rogue Agent, New Year Zoo Lights, Luck and Poetry Fees, and Thinking About the New Year and New Poetry Blogs!

The new year surprised me on January 1 with a new issue of Rogue Agent, which had one of my poems from my new manuscript in it called “Self-Portrait as Radioactive Girl.” It’s a wonderful issue if you check out the whole thing.

So far in the new year, I’ve received two rejections and an acceptance already! I also bought Powerball tickets, something we only do one time a year. This made me muse of the subject of luck, money, and poetry. (My theory was, I had so much bad luck health-wise in the last year, that perhaps the universe would let me win the lottery? I mean, not the whole thing, but a couple of million, enough to pay off student loans, start a poetry charity, and buy my retired parents a house in WA state?) And here’s a sign, lucky or not – today the sun shone bright over Mt. Rainier, and I saw a coyote in the middle of a field, running in a circle, stopping, and running in the other direction. This was under the giant white mountain and bright blue sky in a field of green. If I were a painter…

The Millions had an interesting essay on the “pay to play” model of poetry submissions: https://themillions.com/2018/01/paying-to-play-on-solvency-and-submissions-fees-in-poetry-publishing.html. I also keep an Excel spreadsheet noting financial costs and gains from poetry – submission fees, of course, royalties, literary magazine payments, getting paid for the occasional class or reading. When I make money from poetry, I try to put money back into poetry. I want to support the literary community as much as I can.  I spent some time at the end of the year subscribing to a few journals, as I do every year – I try to rotate the journals so I can support as many as possible. I buy a LOT of poetry books (although I get a decent number as review copies) because 1. I want to support my local stores that carry poetry and 2. I want to support small presses that publish poetry. But I do also support the idea of literary publishers, organizations and journals trying to raise money outside the small circle of poets that want to publish – by reaching out more, trying more ways to gain subscribers, maybe advertising? What do you think? I remember being poor enough that every book contest fee hurt. I feel that fees have gone way up since I started trying to publish work waaay back in 2001-2.

We also decided to take a brief spur of energy to go out on the last day of the Woodland Park Zoo Lights show under the supermoon on New Year’s Day. It was very cold – I had on earmuffs, gloves, and a heavy coat, Ugg boots and I was still freezing after about thirty minutes (I know you Northeasterners are having killer storms, but thirty degrees is very cold for Seattle!)

The poetry blogs are rolling again, and it’s a wonderful way to get to know more about some of your favorite writers! Donna Vorreyer has a wonderful list of poets who have joined up and proposed at least weekly blog posts here. Reading poetry blogs will definitely make you feel better than reading the news (oh my God, are we going to die in a nuclear war? No, don’t read the news…) and maybe think about participating!

Happy New Year! Visions for 2018, Things to hope for: Art Friends Flowers Fun

What are you hoping to put into your life in 2018?

More health, more happiness, more hope? More art, more time for simple pleasures, more friendships? Every year for the past decade I’ve messed around with art collage to create one of those vision boards. This year I did the fastest one I’ve ever done, which resulted in more intuitive results (and fewer straight lines, perhaps.) I like this exercise because 1. it forces me to recognize the amateur levels of my art skillz, 2. it makes me think about the things I want more of in my life.

What do you want the in your vision? 2017 was certainly nothing like I planned. It’s part of why I stopped doing resolutions in my thirties – with chronic health problems, I knew that any resolutions – even small ones – could be easily disrupted, thrown off – our illusion of control over five pounds, or even, say, the ability to type an e-mail or to remember the last five minutes – really IS an illusion. We do not have that much control over our lives, even though when I was younger (and more optimistic? and more arrogant?) I believed that we did. The things we CAN ultimately control are the way we respond what life throws our way. We can also make small moves to include more “blank.” I call these my aspirations. In my case, in the coming year, I want to include more of the following: laughter, fun, friendship, flowers, inspiration, art, poetry. If I could get a little break from dramatic health stuff, that would be great too, universe!

In the vein of including more art AND more friends, we had a little pre-New-Year’s-Eve celebration with our friend Tacoma artist (and animal rescuer – she’s a professional rescuer now, the person who goes out on cliffs to save dogs and horses! What an inspiration!) Michaela Eaves. Glenn made about fifteen courses for dinner. Here’s a picture of us where she pretends to be my height (she’s actually much taller) – with her beautiful fox painting in the background:

What are your aspirations for 2018? Sometimes, just like making a collage, simply writing down our hopes can help us articulate what we want more (or less of.) Tonight we’ll go out on the town briefly and then ring in the New Year with grapes (good luck? wishes?) and black eyed peas (which I think represent prosperity) and greens (same?) I’m a little cloudy on all my New Year’s eve traditions, but we’ll also have something bubbly and try to steal a kiss at midnight.

Anyway, I’m hoping for a healthier and happier 2018 for us all! This year’s New Year’s Eve Supermoon seems like a good omen, doesn’t it?

 

 

Happy Holidays – White Christmas in Seattle, Presents, Ready for the New Year, and New Poetry Bloggers

Hope you all had a wonderful holiday, and got all the things you wished for! We had a rare (for Seattle) White Christmas – the road to our house was actually officially closed, it was so snowy and icy – so we were trapped inside, which wasn’t too bad because we had plenty of food and I had a cold! I did get some poems written, re-ordered and cut some poems out of my manuscript, and spent quality time with my favorite holiday movies and the cats. (Bishop’s Wife, Fellowship of the Ring, and a Hitchcock marathon.) But trying to walk outside with my MS-related vertigo, ice, and a cane yesterday was not an adventure I’d recommend to others! Check out our walkway – this is before we got three inches of snow!

I had a very art-filled Christmas, both giving and receiving, this year.  A few of my fave presents – a pink quartz necklace by a local artist, Glenn got me a perfume from small-batch perfumer Ellis Brooklyn called “Sci Fi” – appropriate for me, no? And art by Yumiko Kawakuya. Also, unpictured, an out-of-print book ordered from England by one of my fave writers, Stella Gibbons, called The Snow Woman. So old I had to freeze it before reading to get rid of the musty smell (a librarian trick I learned!) Doesn’t that sound good? I can’t wait to break into it. I felt good supporting local artists and writers for the holidays this year – I plan to try it again next year. Unless my friends and family complain about receiving too much art or too many books.

I actually sent out a poetry submission Christmas Eve, wrote a poem on Christmas, and sent out the newest manuscript the day after Christmas! I was feeling very energetic (probably from being trapped inside during the snow! Or the cold medicine.) How about you? I’m ready to set some new writing goals for 2018, and one of them is helping another woman writer with a chronic illness somehow in the coming year. I haven’t exactly figured out the details, but watch this space!

In other happy new year news, a return of poetry blogging in 2018 and I couldn’t be more excited! Facebook and Twitter are too short-form to really capture the writer’s anxieties, excitements, discussions of publishers, literary magazines, even mini-reviews. Here are some links at Kelli Agodon’s newly reopened blog, The Book of Kells! We are committing to posting at least once a week – I’ve tried to do that anyway, but I’ll include a little MS-related and disability-related writing stuff along the way, along with PR, publishing, poetry in general. I’m looking forward to a better 2018, honestly. How about you? Any goals you want to share?

Happy Holidays: Art, Poetry, and Pink Hair Edition

Glenn wearing a fetching Prairie Schooner t-shirt with me posing with poinsettias

Happy Holidays, my friends. In my last post I talked about survival mechanisms that helped me during a terrible year. Among these things, I included art, poetry, and friends. In the last week, I tried to include all three! Hey, I can’t be all gloom and doom. Visited Redmond’s VALA for the Impact show, Creatura’s new animal-charity-and-pop-gothic-art shop in Capitol Hill, and had a poetry date with Kelli Agodon, where we talked about our new manuscripts-in-progress and Christmassed it up (Christmas as a verb!) Plus, I’ve decided to take the plunge and try pink hair for 2018! Something about getting diagnosed with MS makes you want to make a symbolic effort to take some control over your body, I think. Anyway, I don’t have any reason not to have pink hair these days. What, am I going to scare the neighbors? (Also snuck out to see the new Star Wars movie. Too long, but loved the crystal-salt-foxes.)

Also, I’ve got a new poem, “Self-Portrait as Escape Artist” in the newest issue of Rattle (modeled with Sylvia below), and I got a few new lit mag subscriptions for Christmas – including Prairie Schooner, whose t-shirt Glenn models here.

Poet Fun

It’s important for us to get together with friends around the holidays, which can feel too rushed to really appreciate, and do some things that affirm our love of art, poetry, lip gloss, etc.

Creatura

Managed to go check out Kirsten Anderson (formerly of Roq La Rue gallery) new project Creatura, which cleverly combines her love and support of animals and pop-surrealist-gothic art. I left with a little art pin and a pink skill bracelet. I’ll be back to see local artist’s work!

VALA

And went to Redmond’s VALA for their Impact show, four artists (including mastermind Jacqui Calledine) working for social justice. Fascinating stuff, and I got to catch up with several of my favorite artist friends!

How to Survive a Terrible Year (End-of-year edition)

Carillon Point Holiday Lights

How to Survive a No-Good, Terrible, Rotten Year (end of 2017 edition)

Hey kids! How’s the holiday season treating you? Myself, stressed, still dealing with the limitations and frustrations of MS, cracked three molars in a matter of weeks, just got the temporary crown put on one which triggered more MS symptoms. I’m supposed to be out with friends tonight – but instead I’m home in bed. So, it’s been that kind of week.

But to be honest, it’s been that kind of year. If I sent out a holiday letter of this year to my friends and family, it would sound terrible, because this year has been terrible. Yeah, I was diagnosed with cancer, went through a lot of testing, found out I didn’t have cancer, spent two months vomiting and unable to walk, got diagnosed with MS, spent six months learning to walk/talk/swallow/function again, and now that’s where we are. Sweet! Happy holidays! A really great message, right?

But I have learned some things about how to survive a straight-up terrible year – and yes, I am including politics, the world in general, in the things that made up this particular year, because everything on every channel was disaster all the time, and if you’re a girl who’s been abused, double that. Also, nuclear anxieties.

Five Things to Help You Survive a Terrible Year

Here are some helpful thing that I did that I recommend for you during your own version of a terrible year. And believe me, I have heard from some of you and you guys had a worse year than me. Seriously. Comparisons help no one, but still, I’m sorry if that’s been the case.

  1. Have people around you that make you feel better. Have them over for tea even if you think you look terrible, your house isn’t perfect, etc. Being around other humans you love who love you – be they family, long-lost friend, co-worker, or just a fellow journeyer through a particular road (you both lost people you love, you both got diagnosed with the same thing) can really increase the happiness value in your life. Especially if you’re extroverted, like I am, but forced to remain in captivity for a while, for whatever reason.
  2. Pets can absolutely help. Anyone who doesn’t know this has not had a dog or cat or tiny horse come cuddle up to them when they hurt, when they’re tired, when they’re crying. There is nothing that they cannot help feel better. I have two fluffy cats but there is room in my life for a real menagerie, if my husband wasn’t allergic to all the rest of them. (Tiny horse, you are in my future, I promise!)
  3. Comedies. I mean, this is not the time to tackle long Russian novels about murder or take on a Netflix series about suicide. No. This is the time for funny. Classic screwball comedies – Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, Barbara Stanwyk, – work well. Or sci-fi nuttiness – Mystery Science Theater 3000 and Futurama – or beloved recent shows like 30 Rock or Community (an underrated classic, check it out.) These were my drugs of choice. I may have even watched a few Hallmark movies. No shame in that, they always have happy endings and the amazing lives of the heroines (tenured Yale job AND a bestselling novel? Why not!) will cheer you up for at least a little bit. My little brother highly recommends video games as a distraction for pain relief, and you know what? He’s not wrong – there is real science that says you will feel less pain if you play video games while recovering from surgery, for example. Anything to take your mind off of yourself and your pain. Which brings me to…
  4. Do something nice for others. It may not seem like the natural time for charity, you may not be feeling particularly generous, in fact if you felt grumpier and more Scrooge-like than usual, that would be normal. But doing even a small thing for someone else – opening a door, chatting in line sympathetically to someone obviously struggling, sending someone a care package, card or flowers – these don’t only cheer up the other person, they will cheer you up. Believe me.
  5. Art saves us. It does. I have written a ton, a ton of poems during my terrible year. Probably not all great. I have also listened to a LOT of audiobooks. I read poetry. I surrounded myself with as much visual art as I could, when I could, and music. I listened to a lot of new music. I tried to go out of my way to support other artists in the ways I could (I couldn’t write as many reviews this year – typing was difficult for about four months and my mental capacity was absolutely affected by the MS for a while – but I could buy books, literary magazines, chapbooks.) Make time for yourself to draw, read, listen to music.

So those are my top five tips for surviving a terrible, shitty, no-good year. If you have more tips and wisdom to share, I welcome them in the comments, because I am still trying to get by the best way I can without becoming a giant pain to everyone else. That is sometimes the best we an do.

PS: One little extra thing – try to celebrate the little moments of joy, of being out of pain, of being able to do things – as you can. Life is not about being constantly happy. In fact, it is often about suffering (like many works of art tell us, including The Princess Bride and Joe vs. the Volcano.) But there are the small things we can celebrate in the moments in between that make our bodies, our souls, capable of sustaining the pressure. I tell myself often: you have to give your body a reason to live. You can’t just expect it to keep going for the sake of going. Remind yourself of the good things. Buy a damn candle or some flowers, yes, pet a dog, buy a kid a book, give someone you love a hug.

It’s that time of year again – poetry presents! Copper Canyon holiday party report, Supermoons, and more…

It’s holiday time, and that means more parties and more poetry! It can be stressful on the schedule but I think it’s worth putting in at least a few celebrations (for me, in between doctor and physical therapy appointments and calls to insurance companies – fun!) Last night we attended the Copper Canyon holiday party, which was a lot of fun, and got to see Traci Brimhall read from her new book, Saudade. And I came home with five new books of poetry, to keep or to gift!

We also celebrated Christmas a little early because my little brother was in town, and we wanted to have “Christmas” dinner together. And there’s a picture of the giant supermoon that appeared that night!

And remember, a poetry book makes a great present! There were so many good books out this year! Poetry is a very personal gift, but also something I think more people need after a year that was stressful for so many. Here’s a link where you can buy any of my five books – either signed directly from me or from Amazon. Do think of supporting artists and writers around this time of year – it means more than giving a gift card and it improves the world of culture at a time when it is under attack. I already bought some art prints that I’m going to frame and give and of course I have a stack of books for gift bags for friends!

New Poem up at American Poetry Journal, a reading at Open Books, and Holiday Lights at the Botanical Gardens

New Poem Up at American Poetry Journal’s new issue

First, thanks to American Poetry Journal, a poem from my new manuscript-in-progress, “Another Attempt at Disaster Preparedness,” is up with their new issue here:

https://www.apjpoetry.org/one-more-attempt-jeannine-h-gailey It’s always wonderful to see work from a manuscript you’re working on get published, because it gives you a little more confidence . If you read this poem and the poem from Redactions that I linked in the last post, “Self-Portrait as Appalachian Ballad,” together, you’ll sort of see the themes of the new book!

MS Relapses and the Bellevue Botanical Gardens Holiday Lights

It’s been a busy couple of days, both poetry-wise and in actual life. Apparently I had a little MS relapse, which showed up in horrible dizziness, fatigue, and weakness, but a few days of steroids have me feeling much better. I’m learning to recognize when MS is “acting up” – there’s a prelude of fatigue and dizziness, and then boom! I can’t walk without falling over again. It’s frustrating, but I’m learning.

On one of the days I wasn’t feel well took me to the Bellevue Botanical Gardens to see their yearly holiday light show. I had to be back in a wheelchair, but it was a beautiful, unrainy night and I really loved seeing the holiday lights. Here are a few details – a blue heron, a spider web, an aquarium scene and Glenn and I enjoying the lights.

Kelli and Victoria at Open Books

Tuesday I was able to rally enough to go see Kelli Russell Agodon and Victoria Chang read at our poetry-only bookstore Open Books. I loved seeing poetry friends I hadn’t seen in a while, browsing through Open Books, and hearing poetry. A really good night. Here are a few pics and a picture of my take from Open Books (I already had Barbie Chang – I recommend it!)

More Fallout from Guys Being Creeps and NPR Loses Writer’s Almanac and its Archives

Yesterday was a sad day in that Garrison Keillor has been fired and Writer’s Almanac is no more. Years ago, Writer’s Almanac featured two poems from Becoming the Villainess, and it helped bring an audience to my poetry that would never otherwise have found it. Now that the archives are no longer up and the show’s disappeared, I can’t help but feel a little loss. I do hope NPR decides to have a new show that features contemporary poetry. May I suggest a female host, NPR?

Jeannine Hall Gailey

Jeannine Hall GaileyJeannine Hall Gailey served as the second Poet Laureate of Redmond, Washington and the author of Becoming the Villainess, She Returns to the Floating World, Unexplained Fevers, The Robot Scientist’s Daughter, and winner of the Moon City Press Book Prize and SFPA’s Elgin Award, Field Guide to the End of the World.  Her latest, Flare, Corona from BOA Editions, was a finalist for the Washington State Book Award. She’s also the author of PR for Poets, a Guidebook to Publicity and Marketing. Her work has been featured on NPR’s The Writer’s Almanac, Verse Daily and The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror. Her poems have appeared in The American Poetry Review, Poetry, and JAMA.

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