Today at Highline College, Spring Skies, and National Poetry Month

I had the lovely opportunity to read and teach at Highline College in Des Moines, WA today. Not only did they have a huge crowd in a giant auditorium, they had put up several of my poems (and also poems by Terrance Hayes, who’s visiting the college next week) up as broadsides in a huge artistic poetry month display in their public library. I was honored! Here’s a picture of me with Highline professor Susan Rich and very sweet administrator Lindsay Seeley. It was a great day but now I’m ready to crash. I love National Poetry Month but it wears me out!

We’ve been having cool, stormy weather, which has kind of matches by health stuff, marred by upper respiratory stuff and migraines. I’m ready for some great warmer weather AND great health! Hoping for that by the end of the month.

Coming up on the schedule is a reading at Soul Food Books on April 20 with a few Two Sylvias authors like Natasha Moni and Michael Schmeltzer. It’s a fun lineup and a relaxed East side reading venue, so put it on your calendar.

Since last posting, I got to see Alice Notley read thanks to a friend’s spare ticket, and that was really something. I feel like there are twelve times as many poetry events in April as I can possibly attend! I’ve been writing a bit more than usual too, as well as reading more books.

Here are a few pics of April’s Seattle skies…the Pink Full Moon with cloud cover, a rainbow in sunset clouds. And it’s almost the end of the cherry tree season, so, appropriately, a picture of white cherry branches in bloom, and the fallen blossoms after a storm.

National Poetry Month, Cherry and Magnolia Blossoms, and an April Apocalypse Poem

It’s the beginning of National Poetry Month (and my birthday month,) so even though we’re still in a weather-whomp of rain and lower temps, I’ve been cheered by the appearance of more singing birds (one that insists on singing outside our bedroom at 6 AM every morning,) more trees blossoming, and finally. a few bulbs in my garden blooming – the pink hyacinths in my boxes have appeared healthy and hearty after our cold, wet winter. These are the cherry blossoms down the street from our house, our in full snowy blushy splendor. The Japanese call the time of the advance of the cherry blossoms “sakura zensen.” To the right, you can also see Glenn and I posing with some new magnolia blossoms in the Kirkland neighborhood, where Google and Facebook employees wonder by, bearded and ensconced in their phones. This was also a day I got a bunch of medical tests done, all of which came back with mostly good news. No liver cancer, for one, which was a concern, and a negative tumor marker test on a rarer kind of carcinoid, plus only minor problems with liver function from all the tumors in there, which was also a concern.

I started the month by getting another round of a cough and sinus thing (probably from going into two different doctor’s offices for the lab tests above) but I did manage to squeak out a poem yesterday, so we’ll hope for the same today! I’ve been inspired by reading Siri Hustvedt’s new book, A Woman Looking at Men Looking at Women: Essays on Art, Sex, and the Mind. Fascinating stuff! I love reading about art and gender, and Siri has such a fierce intellect, she just automatically makes me want to write something. I also really am loving Aimee Mann’s new album “Mental Illness,” and tweeted that my fave rhyme so far this month is her rhyme in the song “Good for Me” of “smoke machine” with “taste of dopamine.” I love art and music, and learning more about them, but am terrible at singing, instruments – I can do a little piano and guitar, neither all that well – and making art. It’s a good thing I have poetry!

So I wanted to post another April poem, this time apocalypse-oriented, from Field Guide to the End of the World:

Spring Flowers, Medical Testing, and Submission Parties

Looking for Spring
Spring has been late to visit the Pacific Northwest this year, so I’ve been desperately seeking signs of spring. In this spirit, we took a drive up to La Conner, home of The Tulip Festival, where at this time the last two years all the tulips were already up. This trip, just a few fields of daffodils and a few ornamental trees were in bloom. Around my neck of the woods in Woodinville, I found some plum and cherry blossoms. At this point with all the wet and cold we’ve had, we need all the flowers we can get!

I’m going in for some more medical testing today, which is always nerve-wracking, especially the tumor marker tests, which can be tricky and misleading and very scary. Wish me luck! I purposefully try to schedule something pleasant afterwards and nothing stressful beforehand. Today involves two different sets of doctor offices in two different systems, which is a bit more complex than usual…

Submission Parties!

No, it’s not a sexy thing, it’s a poetry submission thing!
Last week I had a “Submission Party” with a few poet friends via Google Hangout, and it was really fun – and three of us had acceptances within a few days! It was a good way to motivate yourself during what can be a dreary time of year and help some of us get our of our usual submission ruts. (I tend to send to the same journals over and over, for instance.) I very much recommend doing this with your friends if you can get them together – we had a few prep rules that helped – preparing a poetry packet in advance, bring at least three places you’d like to send and share, and have your spreadsheet and cover letter templates at the ready!

I am looking forward to April, National Poetry Month, my birthday month, Easter and baby animals! We did see a mother deer with her baby in the grass yesterday while we were stalking flowers in our neighborhood. How about you? What are your plans for April? Anything ambitious? I’m doing a local college visit at Highline College and a reading at Soul Food Books with some other Two Sylvias Press authors on April 20.

Interview with Stephanie Wytovich and Cheers to KCLS Library

Thanks to Stephanie Wytovich, amazing horror writer – she is on the Bram Stoker finalist ballot this year for her poetry book, Brothel – for taking the time to interview me today on apocalypses, my new book Field Guide to the End of the World, my thoughts on the future of science fiction, and advice for writers (spoiler alert: stay weird!)

http://stephaniewytovich.blogspot.com/2017/03/author-interview-getting-apocalyptic.html

I have to say I have found the horror writing community to be so warm and welcoming, especially for such a spooky and scary genre! Stephanie is a great example, as are the writers in the local Seattle chapter I’ve met with. I’m very happy I joined the Horror Writers Association last year and encourage other poets to do the same!

Also, I was super touched that my local library tweeted about my new book yesterday:

KCLS is one of the best library systems I’ve every belonged to (and I’ve belonged to libraries since my mom first got me a card at 6!) I really appreciate their support of local writers!

Signs of Spring, a New Review of Field Guide on The Pedestal, and Spring Poems

First, thanks so much to The Pedestal and Stephanie Chan for this excellent, thoughtful review of Field Guide to the End of the World. Here’s a little bit from the end of the review:

She makes the end of the world strangely relatable, filled with details of normalcy that have been flipped on their heads. Field Guide to the End of the World feels very much like a collection of postcards, poems sent from a series of desolate vacation spots, each inscribed “Wish you were here”—with romantic nostalgia for a future that may or may not come to be.”

(If you’d like to purchase a signed copy of Field Guide to the End of the World, you can do so here! And here it is on Amazon in case you’re just dying to write your own review 🙂 Did I mention I’m in the middle of revising and trying to finish my PR for Poets book?  I’ve re-organized it into more bite-size chapters and interview tips, and So I thought I’d practice a little of what I’ve been writing about.)

Had a bit of a hard week with the aftermath of more medical testing – I’ve got a couple more important ones to do, then hope I can get a break for a while, as in, no results will be worrisome and require even worse follow-up testing. And at the end of the month, a new Aimee Mann album drops – “Mental Illness,” so I’ve got that to look forward to!

Today’s the first day of spring, and yesterday we had actual sunshine (after two months of record cold and wet) so I went out hunting for signs of spring. Nothing in my own garden is blooming yet, but we put roses, blueberries, and sweet peas in the ground anyway. Here are a signs of spring from all around town…plum blossoms, camellias, and other early blooms:

I thought I’d post a poem from my previous book, The Robot Scientist’s Daughter, called “The Robot Scientist’s Daughter in Spring,” as appropriate for today:

Success, Ambition, and the Body: How Do We Define Success as Writers? And What Do We Do When Circumstances Defy our Expectations?

I am staring down my 44th birthday next month, in the middle of a bunch of medical testing I had to put off while I was sick the previous couple of months. I have noticed that many of my conversations with friends lately – younger friends in their twenties and early thirties, older friends in their mid-fifties and sixties – are about whether or not we are feeling successful in our lives as writers.

What does success mean to us? Is it a full-time, tenure-track teaching job (I used to think so!) What about getting an NEA grant? (Though now, after seeing the Trump budget proposal which I dearly hope will be turned down by Congress, the NEA may in fact disappear, so,…) What about getting a poem published in a dream publication? What about getting your first book published? What about your second? What gives you happiness and satisfaction in your work? Would a MacArthur Genius Grant make you feel happy with what you have done, or would it drive you to work harder? Do you just want to get paid enough to cover rent and food?

I asked this question of Facebook and got a myriad of answers from writers just starting out and writers who have several of the accomplishments I’ve listed above. (You can check out the thread here at this link, I think: https://www.facebook.com/webbish6/posts/10155904705729951)

You can see that success, satisfaction, happiness with your work on a writer can be hard to define, can be a moving target, and can often feel like it depends on external factors we cannot control.

I was talking to a writer friend of mine who, like me, is often limited in her drive to succeed by what her body is able to do (or is not able to do.) I had to turn down a reading visit I dearly wanted to do next month because I have been so sick this year and I was worried the travel would send me back to the hospital. When I have to do stuff like that, it feels like crap. I feel like a failure. Though I know I can do a Skype visit (which I love! And thank goodness for technology!) I miss the in person visiting. I’m one of those writers who actually likes being around people – other writers, students, etc.

When I consider applying for full-time jobs I’m worried my body would not be able to handle…but on some days when I feel optimistic, I feel like I could do…when I wonder if I’m letting down my publishers by not traveling more to promote my books, or skipping AWP… I’m running into the problem of drive versus limitation. My friend whose been laid off from her job of twenty years and is stressed out looking for something new, or my friend who’s looking for her first job that can sustain her financially – they are also running into limitations, different ones. Our lives are defying our ambition, our plans for success, our road to what a writer is supposed to be able to do and be.

I wrote last year when I was diagnosed with terminal cancer that I was happy with what I’ve accomplished so far in life, and you know what? That’s still mostly true. I’ve been Poet Laureate of my city, I’ve published five books, all with publishers I consider friends. I’ve published in a few “dream” publications. But now that I’m looking at the possibility of a little more time, and the possibility of being slightly more mobile (I’m mostly not in a wheelchair or on a cane right now, due to 6 grueling years of twice-weekly physical therapy for neurological issues)  it feels like I SHOULD be doing more than I am. But I’m still worn out, the cancer tests keep going, my immune system has been a big FAIL for three months. I’m grateful that I may not be facing death in six months. But I’m also anxious about what I should be doing in the meantime.

Last night I turned in two articles, turned in the judging of a poetry contest, and finished my first organized draft of what will become my sixth book eventually (possible titles: Post-Life? Sitting by Yourself at the End of the World? Self-Portrait as Accident?) and am thinking of what I can do to help promote Field Guide to the End of the World that I’m not already doing. And you know, today, I’m getting ready to go undergo more tests at a medical office which will take a couple of hours, and I’m like – can I get a submission in? Or write a new poem?

My ideas about what I expect for my life are different now, my ideas about what success as a writer consists of has changed. Sure, I would love a part-time job I could actually do from home, I would love a best-selling book or more prestigious book reviews or an award for Field Guide to the End of the World, I would love an unexpected award or fellowship out of nowhere, but I’m thankful for what I do have: a whole bunch of poems I’m pretty proud of, a great bunch of writer friends around the globe who are supportive and helpful when I need it, a spouse who values the work I do (even when it doesn’t bring in the kind of money I’d like it to.) I am thankful for today, which I would usually classify as a “bad day,” as it involved a company coming to cut down one of my backyard trees, a birch that’s gotten infested with birch beetles, which was sad, the news about Trump wanting to cut Meals on Wheels, which at least several of my house-bound relatives are reliant on, the NEA, and PBS, and the aforementioned several-hour-long medical testing. But the sun shone a little today, I made plans about new things to plant, and when I get home, I’m going to make more plans, submission and writing plans. That’s what we do to truly succeed as writers: we hold on to hope, we plant seeds, we try again. We keep writing.

Happy 20th, Buffy! And Making It Through March…

Today is the 20th anniversary of the first episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I didn’t catch a Buffy episode until the end of Season 2, and I was instantly hooked. That when I was (over)working as a Capital One Media Manager in my early twenties. So Buffy was entirely a thing of my adult life, not my teenage life, which was too bad. I mean, I did have Daria during high school (the original MTV version with original music – so much better than the edited/without music episodes you can see now) but it would have been nice to have a dose of kick-ass girl power in those days.

So here’s my poem, from Becoming the Villainess, that was meant to immortalize my version of Buffy, “The Slayer Asks for Time Off.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m thinking there’s a segue-way here about survival and weariness, what with Buffy and Joan of Arc and  what this year so far has felt all about. The worst winter in the Northwest in history? Check. The government’s extreme chaos? Check. Health stuff? Yep, I’ve been sick in one way or another almost every day since the year started. Today there was a brief window of grayish sunlight. I took a walk at a nearby winery where there was no hint of spring yet – the vines had no visible greenery, no flowers, the ducks (wood ducks, mergansers, buffleheads, Canadian geese, etc) were huddled together against the wind. As I was walking along a path, a whorl of wind picked up around me, raising leaves – that I previously hadn’t even seen on the ground – up into the air around me, along with a cacophonous murder of crows. It was like a magical moment when a teen witch discovers her powers, except it was just me, and the weird wind.

It’s a struggle, sometimes, to feel like the heroine of your own life. It feels like there is only more evil to confront, more tasks that seem insurmountable, more problems to figure. When the weather and the news and your body conspire against you to make you miserable, we are required to look beyond the moment, beyond the cold wind and the crowds, to a future where flowers and abundance and health and happiness seem possible again. Most of us are required, sometimes, to fight battles that no one else will ever understand or know about. We feel alone. We feel helpless or overwhelmed. When it feels like we have nothing, we still have ourselves, the mysterious power of hope and even sometimes love. Our resources are larger than our enemies imagine. We must become our own magic.

Poetry Taxes, Thundersnowstorms, Out in the World, and a new review for Field Guide to the End of the World,

First of all, thanks to The Nervous Poodle’s Noor Hindi for posting this new review of Field Guide to the End of the World. It’s very thoughtful and well-written, which I always appreciate as a fellow reviewer! I just received a review copy of Marie Howe’s Magdalene, and I’m trying to figure out how to write a good enough review that honors Howe’s work. I also appreciate the new Amazon review for Field Guide to the End of the World – in case you don’t know this, writers, especially poets, could really use more Amazon reviews, but it is excruciating to ask for them, so do us a favor, and if you ever like a book of poetry, note it somewhere – your blog, Goodreads, Amazon, a literary magazine, The New York Times Review of Books, whatever. The poet will be grateful!

So, it’s been snowy – check that, thundersnowy – here in Seattle. We’re supposed to have more snow later this week. I for one am sick of having super-crappy weather when we’re supposed to be having flowers and songbirds and at least the happiness of a few sunny days. Here’s a picture of the Space Needle being struck by lightning during a blizzard and my back porch if you don’t believe me. April can not come soon enough.

We took advantage of our lingering bad weather to work on taxes. And here’s what I discovered – I am NOT in poetry for the money. I spent more on poetry last year than I made. By a lot. To be fair, I thought I was dying for the majority of the year (see previous blog posts about my metastasized cancer diagnosis in February of last year), AND I went to AWP AND had a book launch, so there were more than average expenses and I wasn’t exactly out there hustling for every dollar. But sigh. It was discouraging to look at the numbers. Also, I feel a little bitter about the fact that Trump probably paid less taxes than I did last year, despite the fact that he brags about how rich he is. #poetspayingmoretaxesthanTrump – do you think that hashtag will take off?

To cheer myself up, I went out to see Ellen Bass read at SAL last night after a somewhat positive meeting with my new neurologist (this one encourages physical therapy – my two previous neurologists basically told me I was wasting my time.) (If you’re new to the blog, I have a mysterious neural lesion issue that’s affected things like my balance and motor skills – they just show up and they’re not sure why, although now they’re pretty sure it’s not MS or strokes.) I showed her the progress I’ve made and she seemed really impressed. So that was good. Seeing a lot of poetry people at the SAL event really did cheer me up – it’s really nice to be around other writers and poetry-lovers. I feel like forcing ourselves to go out even in bad weather, even when we’re not feeling great or cheerful, is good medicine for the writer soul.

I also did a class visit earlier this week via Skype, which went well and was blessedly free of technical problems, and Friday I’m going to do a reading and Q&A in Mississippi via Skype. These things make me feel cheerful too. I love interacting with students, and with readers and audiences that I might not otherwise get to see because of health issues or whatever, with technology. I like getting out there in the world, even if it’s just virtually.

Hailstorms, HWA Bram Stoker Award Finalist for Field Guide, Elgin Award Nominations, and Tapping into February Despair for Positive Actions

Kitten Sylvia’s First Hailstorm, and She Does Not Care for It!

Woke up to hailstorms (second day in a row) and a little good news: Field Guide to the End of the World made it to the finalist round in the HWA’s Bram Stoker Award! Hooray!

http://horror.org/2016-bram-stoker-awards-final-ballot/

It’s also been nominated for this year’s Elgin Award! Thank you to those who nominated it!

So if you’re a voter in either the HWA or the SFPA but have yet to see Field Guide to the End of the World for yourself, there’s  a special link here where you can download the PDF. Every vote helps! Just like in real life 🙂 Also, if you’ve read it and liked it, please put a review up on Amazon! I’d really love to see at least ten reviews up there!

February Despair, and How to Channel It

So, it’s February, and the weather’s been dreary, wetter and colder than usual, I’ve been sick for the majority of the month (it also hit my normally healthy husband) and then I knocked a tooth out Monday night which resulted in my very first crown (so $$$!) and Glenn needed thumb surgery after a kitchen accident. The news of course has been horrifying (people being asked for their papers before they’re able to get off planes; people being picked up in the middle of the night, burning the Standing Rock camp, The EPA/Russia stuff, Arizona deciding it can take your house if you plan a protest, in case you missed any of that fun.) If I check back on my blog in years past in February though, chances are I’ll be blogging about discouragement, depression, and despair, because February is the month of giving up/getting sick in the Northwest. This year everyone else across the country has been getting sunny, warm, spring-like weather, and I also had to miss AWP, which sort of made it worse! Anywhere but here…although since I’ve lived in so many places I know intellectually that each place has a downside, that this feeling will pass, that I’ll love the Northwest again (but not as long as snow is in the dang forecast! Come on, spring!)

But how to turn this February despair into something positive? Well, since I’ve been stuck at home for the most part, we’ve gotten started on the taxes, I’ve gotten started on two new articles for Poet’s Market, and I’ve been hard at work on an editing pass on the PR for Poets book, which I realized was in worse shape than I thought and needed tons more work. Isn’t that always the way? You’re so proud of yourself on the first draft, and then you look at it a few months later on the editing pass, and you’re like: “What was I thinking? This all needs to be re-written!” I’m also working on a full-length new manuscript of poetry (title still undetermined), which somehow has found itself put together since January, and I’ve been working on it a little at a time. Plus calling and writing my representatives about the various nightmare political stuff. So, to recap: being disgustingly sick and fairly discouraged/down but trying to channel this into making things better. At least when I’m not so sick I can’t even sit up or focus on the computer, which has been a good amount of time!

Sometimes being chronically ill makes me hibernate, though I’m more outgoing in nature than most writers. You just 1. want to avoid germs, either getting or spreading them 2. don’t feel you have the energy (See: The Spoon Theory from “But You Don’t Look Sick”) and 3. tend to have a more pessimistic outlook when your body physically hurts. I need to make more of an effort to socialize, to get out when I can, because we really do have a lovely poetry community here. And I found out we’re about to get our very own independent bookstore nearby in Redmond Town Center called Bricks and Mortar Books. It opens in May, and I’m excited about that! Nothing is more demoralizing than having to drive 45 minutes and pay a bridge toll to get to an indie bookstore! I will also make an effort to be a bit more active on social media until the weather turns better/my health improves. At least I can contribute that way and it’s very difficult to give anyone the flu through e-mail or the phone. Anyway, if I owe you an e-mail or phone call, please don’t hesitate to bother me!

 

Happy Valentine’s During an Apocalypse! And More Disturbing Things: AWP Disability, Politics, V-Day Bronchitis, and Fighting For the Right Mindset

Hey kids! Does it feel like the apocalypse yet? How do I wish you a Happy Valentine’s Day today? How about a poem, “Post-Apocalypse Postcard (with Love Note,)” from Field Guide to the End of the World?

Or how about some pictures of my views of February nature and a recommended playlist of songs?

My playlist today? “We Found Love (in a Hopeless Place)” by Rihanna. “Love Love Love” by Avalanche City. “Wish That You Were Here” by Florence & the Machine. I recommend you play all three while reading this post!

Struggling with Mindset, Mid-February

I’m feeling a little down lately. Partly because I am really sick again, this time with pretty bad bronchitis and a sinus thing, and it’s hard to be cheerful when you’re sick. Partly because 1. I missed AWP (by the way, if you picked up either Field Guide to the End of the World or The Robot Scientist’s Daughter at AWP and post a picture for me, I’d be really grateful and mail you some swag if you want!) and 2. I heard from so many friends with disabilities that this AWP did a terrible job with accessibility (a disability caucus that required stairs? Non-accessible Accessibility Desk? Power doors that didn’t work? A lukewarm response to these problems from those in charge?) and that makes me very nervous about attending in the future, as I am mildly disabled due to those pesky neural lesions I sometimes talk about. (Sandra Beasley has a more encompassing post about this issue here.) It’s just a reminder that some things should change, but don’t. Speaking of that…

Then, you know, politics has invaded my dreams. I have actual nightmares about it almost every night. A person in charge of national security stepped down today because of possible treasonous dealings with Russia,and Trump blithely does his nuclear strategy talks in front of tourists at Mar-a-Lago. This President and his dirty team are sure unfun to watch, and I am ashamed of the Congressional Republicans unwilling to do anything about it. I used to be proud of my country. Now I feel less so, and this does not make me happy. Meanwhile, a dam actually burst in northern CA yesterday, a literal symbol of our country’s crumbling infrastructure (don’t worry, I’m sure a ton of stuff built in the sixties and seventies is in great shape! But a lot maybe isn’t! Including a lot of important stuff, like nuclear waste storage. Concrete fails after a certain amount of time…)

I also lost a beloved Uncle this week, and won’t be able to travel for the funeral – it’s on the East Coast and I’ve been given strict orders for some bedrest til I’m better so this bronchitis doesn’t turn to pneumonia again, as it did last September. He was really a lovely guy and his wife, my Aunt Charlotte, is one of my favorite people. I’m very sorry not to be there for them right now.

So I’m struggling to keep up a cheerful mindset on today, this pink-tinged holiday. I’m also attempting to write two articles, working on the edits of PR for Poets book draft that’s going way more slowly than I was hoping, and worrying that Field Guide to the End of the World isn’t selling well enough or I’m not doing enough for it because I’ve been sick pretty much the entire winter or that it hasn’t gotten enough reviews. (By the way, if you’re interested in reviewing, even just on Amazon, please let me know! PDFs are available!)

As far as writing, I’ve been writing up a storm, it seems – that day of the superbowl, I put together a first draft of my sixth poetry manuscript, and was surprised to find 50 pages there. The poems are pretty stark – cancer, of course, and death are pretty consistent themes, since those are pretty much what I was thinking about for the last year. I remember, too, it was last February around this time Glenn took me to the ER for what turned out to be food poisoning but could have been appendicitis, and then the scans turned up the liver tumors that were diagnosed then and there as terminal metastasized cancer. I got an MRA (a kind of specialized MRI) for my brain lesions last week and am awaiting more blood work for cancer markers this week (or whenever I’m up to a trip to the lab!) This kind of thing does not, just FYI, make you feel better or more cheerful. Spending a lot of time in medical offices lately – always a recipe for less cheerfulness. I tell people that having chronic health issues is a full-time job, and I am not kidding – it literally takes all the energy, time, planning, intellectual and social skills that a job does.

Meanwhile, Glenn is making a fancy Valentine’s dinner for us tonight (despite the fact that I can only sort of taste food right now) and my kitten Sylvia is snuggling fluffy by my side in bed. When I get better I’ll get to planting some blueberries and roses now that the snow (!) has melted and the weather has gotten back to somewhat normal temperatures for this time of year. I have things to be thankful for. But I’ll admit to struggling a bit with mindset and keeping a mind that isn’t filled with catastrophe. I try not to watch the news – I literally absorb too much of it without even trying, on Facebook and Twitter, and when I glance at BBC’s site each morning. “I can’t fix everything, I can’t even fix myself” says my internal voice. I try to do things that feel like they might have a positive effect on the world, on the people around me. Maybe right now that’s the best I can do: rest, restore, do what I can. So here’s wishing you Love in a Hopeless Place this Valentine’s Day. (Thanks Rihanna!)

 

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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