Season of Lights, Year in Review and What’s Ahead in 2024

Season of Lights

This week I’ve recovered from my multi-week illness enough to start enjoying going out a bit to enjoy the holiday lights. Chateau Ste Michelle has a new “Wine and Joy” sign in lights, and as I write this I’m still warming up from going out into the Seattle cold to enjoy some holiday lights with my little brother and sister-in-law.

The Bellevue Botanical Gardens Garden d’Lights are one of my favorite holiday lights show, because their lights are so creative—flowers, dragons, birds—and they have a place for you to get a hot coffee and their gift shop is full of ornaments like mushrooms and owls. It’s important, I think, as part of my traditions/rituals this time of year, to celebrate the light.

At Molbaks, with poinsettia tree

Looking Back on the Year

This year has been a big one—I had a new book, Flare, Corona come out with BOA Editions. I turned 50. I had a full dance card at AWP where I got to talk about writing with and about disability and PR, among other things, I had poems in great journals, including JAMA. For the new book, I did readings, podcasts and interviews. I had big family visits from loved ones I hadn’t seen in too long.

I spent a lot of time at farms, getting to know more about pumpkin, lavender, and Christmas tree farms, and it helped my MS to work on stability and muscle development walking around all those farms, and it helped my feeling of community getting to know the farms and farm workers around Woodinville. It also, I realized, made me happy. I’m happy around plants and people who plant things. There was a reason I spent so much time in botany classes for my first degree! I also took a lot of pictures of these farms, which I also really enjoyed.

I noticed I spent less time on social media or watching the news this year. I spent less time tracking the pandemic. I lost some doctors (I mean, they quit being doctors, not that they passed away) to what I guess was “pandemic stress” and several years of tracking death tolls and hospital rates was wearing on me, too. So I tried hard to focus on what I could control: spending time with loved ones, writing and reading, and now we’re embarking on a remodel to make our main bathroom more handicapped-accessible. When you’ve got MS, yes, you can do physical therapy and exercises etc, but you also have to make modifications to your life (and sometimes your house) to accommodate your disability.

And What’s Coming in 2024

How is it already almost 2024? I hope better things are ahead? It’s very hard to say. I will be working on my next book of poems, and perhaps more prose as well. I hope to spend more time with friends and family. I hope to spend more time outdoors when possible. I hope (health permitting) to be going to a residency in Palm Desert, which will be my first residency in a while. Going into the fourth (!) year of the pandemic, I hope to finally recover a little bit of normalcy, or at least try to integrate a few more normal activities back into my life, like going to museums and galleries and bookstores. Covid still seems to be hitting my community pretty hard, though—it would be nice if they made some breakthroughs in treatments (or at least a new monoclonal antibody treatment). I may be starting IVIG treatments for my immune system issues, which is scary and possibly dangerous but also could be super helpful? I hope to write more about environmental and disability issues, as well. There are a lot of “hope” statements here. I’ll be working on my vision board for the solstice (one of my solstice traditions) and will try to visualize all these hopes. I hope you all have a wonderful year ahead, too.

And here are a few more pictures of me and my family clowning around at the Bellevue Botanical Gardens. Merry holidays to you all!

An Interview in Whale Road Review, Two ER Visits in a Week: Not the Way to Spend the Holiday, Books for the Holidays

Anna’s hummingbird on tiny Xmas lights

A New Interview in Whale Road Review

Ominous But Bright: A Conversation with Jeannine Hall Gailey and Cynthia Hogue – Whale Road Review

First of all, a big thank you to Whale Road Review for publishing this interview, and to Lesley Wheeler for being a great interviewer, and to Cynthia Hogue for being a great co-interviewee.

Cynthia and I talk about our new books with Lesley, and it ended up being a really fun three-way conversation. I hope you check it out! Here’s a short excerpt:

“LW: …What kind of future do you want to conjure? And can poems ever help make certain outcomes happen?

JHG: One of the original titles of the book was Post-Life. I was having a discussion with someone who was talking about being “post-doc” and it just led my imagination to think about what if I was that excited to be “post-life,” not dead, which was an interesting spin to me. Post-life has so many more possibilities. Hence the future tense! Since I started writing the book under the shadow of a terminal cancer diagnosis, my hope was just to leave a little something behind—but I wanted something more than a funeral dirge, something more funny, more hopeful. I have to say my essential personality is “hopeful pessimist” or “optimistic realist,” depending on how you look at it, and even with the worst news, I never really lost hope. My thought at the time was: what are the positives in leaving life behind? Which sounds a little crazy. My last book, Field Guide to the End of the World, was all about hope after the ultimate sorts of endings, so this was sort of a smaller, more personal version of that. (I did worry a little that writing Field Guide sort of conjured an apocalypse, you know?) So Flare, Corona isn’t trying to create darkness—it’s trying to focus on light, so to speak—the corona of the eclipse, the bright red of the Blood Moon, the coyote in the street—ominous, maybe, but bright.”

Two Visits to the ER in a Week: Not Fun for the Holidays!

Yes, I spent a great deal of time being sick enough to be in the hospital twice, getting IVs of fluids and tons of blood work and swabbed in the throat and nose multiple times. Nope, it wasn’t covid, just a bug that most people wouldn’t even be bothered by but, because I’ve got a weak-kitten immune system, became pretty serious. This is not a fun or cheery way to spend a rainy cold week during the holidays—I had to cancel going to see the Bellevue Botanical Garden lights with my brother, among other things. There were also three rejections this week, plus a scandal around an anthology I’d sent in a poem for and the editor taking things out of bios (for instance, people’s preferred pronouns, and in my case, my MS). That’s the first time I haven’t been sent a proof of my bio and my work before it went to publish, which I consider strange anyway. It was contentious and one of those things where you think, “the poetry world is so hard already—can’t people just, you know, print the bio the way it was sent, or just be kind and considerate to each other?” Oh well.

I have not been productive in the last three weeks—our Christmas tree is just now fully decorated; I usually have it done by the beginning of December. I haven’t written or submitted much. But that’s part of the cost of being a disabled/chronically ill person. The past several years, I managed to miss being sick during the holidays, but bam—it got me this year.

Charlotte with tree and carousel horse with bookshelf

Books for the Holidays?

I understand people cutting back this year, as things are more expensive than usual, but you know what? Most books are the same price they were ten years ago! I don’t know if you’re the kind of person who gifts books, but if you are, I most heartily recommend the following:

-Kelli Russell Agodon’s Dialogue with Rising Tides

-Lesley Wheeler’s Unbecoming (speculative fiction) and (nonfiction) Poetry’s Possible Worlds

-Cynthia Hogue’s instead, it is dark

-Melissa Studdard’s Dear Selection Committee

–Rosebud Ben-Oni’s If This is the Age We End Discovery

Some of my favorite fiction reads this year included White Cat, Black Dog by Kelly Link (re-imagined fairy tales) and When We Were Dragons by Kelly Barnhill.

Charlotte the literary kitten with Flare, Corona

and if you have friends or relatives who’ve struggled with a tough diagnosis in the past couple of years, may I recommend my own Flare, Corona? A book I hope others will find helpful in tough times. Hope your holidays will be healthy and bright!

A Podcast about Flare, Corona and Thoughts on Being Sick During the Holidays

A Podcast about Flare, Corona

A big thank you to Dion O’Reilly for doing this podcast with me about Flare, Corona. You can listen to the podcast below.

S5:E37 Jeannine Hall Gailey talks with Dion O’Reilly by S5: E37 Jeannine Hall Gailey talks with Dion O’Reilly (spotify.com)

It’s a very thought-provoking conversation mainly because Dion asked such good, thoughtful questions.

Hairy woodpecker

Thoughts on Being Sick During the Holidays

I’ve had a very nasty bug (but tested at doctor’s office – not strep, flu, or covid)—mainly sinus issues, fatigue, and a very sore throat (along with an asthmatic wheeze and of course MS symptoms)—since Thanksgiving. I feel like I’m missing out on a lot of holiday merrymaking, including being able to write anything cogent or decorate my Christmas tree or go holiday shopping. It’s been colder and rainier than normal so maybe I’m not missing out on that much. If I’m not writing scintillating prose this week, I apologize—but this week has been productive from things I did in the past—I did have a poem come out in JAMA (which you can read here) about climate change and Persephone I’m very proud of, and a Podcast I did earlier in the year when I didn’t have sinus problems or a wheeze.

Anyway, I hope you are feeling fine and avoiding all the bugs in the world right now, and celebrating with friends and family, because we could all use a little light right now. I promise to have a better, more cogent post next week, if I’m better.

“Persephone Explains Global Warming” appears in JAMA!

So excited about this publication, for several reasons. Excited that doctors will be reading this poem, one of a series that will form my next book. Excited for my parents, who, since I got a Biology degree, always wanted me to be a doctor – well, at least I can now say I was published in JAMA. And excited for the thoughtful editor’s note that accompanies the poem.

Here is a screenshot of what the print version looks like, and links to the poem and note online:

“Persephone Explains Global Warming”

Editor’s note on the poem by Rafael Campo

And for those of you who do not subscribe to JAMA, here’s a sneak peek:

A Week of Eagles, Thanksgiving Celebrations, a Poem in JAMA this Week, Guest Appearance at Washington and Lee University, And Year-End Evaluations

Eagle silhouette with Frost moon

A Week of Eagles and Thanksgiving Celebrations

Do you believe that birds can be messengers or signs? We do have a lot of amazing birds in the Pacific Northwest, but my little corner of Woodinville is rarely a place to sight eagles—although this week, we saw as many as five at once and even witnessed (gruesome, but also slightly awe-inspiring in a nature-documentary way) an immature eagle fly away with a Canadian goose. And at twilight one day, we saw a group of…snow geese? tundra swans? With the Canadian geese on the local pond. Amazing sights.

We had a fairly quiet Thanksgiving celebration with just my little brother and Glenn and me, we Facetimed our folks and took a picture, took a walk outside in the sun, and then changed into pajamas to chill out the rest of the day. (My preferred way to spend Thanksgiving.) We all Covid tested before getting together—so many people have covid right now, and we all had allergy symptoms, so we wanted to be safe.  Now, suddenly it is holiday season—Glenn was out hanging Christmas lights yesterday, and it’s been unseasonably cold and dry here, maybe that’s why all the eagles are showing up? Below, more pictures of eagles, and the mysterious snow geese/tundra swans.

The local wineries and municipalities have started putting up their holiday decorations as well—sparkly deer and lit-up trees—and we hope for peace on earth, good will towards men.

Kitten Charlotte in a Christmas tree wishes you a very happy holiday season

A Poem in JAMA, An Appearance at Washington and Lee University, Holiday Wishes and Year-End Evaluations

It’s a busy week this week for me with a poem that’s supposed to appear this week in JAMA (I’ll put up a link when I get it,) a guest appearance for Lesley Wheeler’s class at Washington and Lee University to talk about Flare, Corona, and about ten year-end doctor appointments (somehow, they all stack up at the end of the year, don’t they?)

This time of year also brings on my informal year-end evaluations—what went well this year and what didn’t, things I want to invite into my life and things I want to do less of. It’s easy to forget the accomplishments and successes of the year in cold, stark November—so I try to keep track of those too. On the writing front, I had the book launch for Flare, Corona in May (and a preview of it at AWP, where I connected more than ever with the disabled writing community, which was great), and I turned 50—there were many more family visits than in the past seven years, and I reconnected with friends that I wanted to see again who had sort of slipped out of focus. I’m prioritizing friends and family, my writing work, and my health in 2024 for sure. I also want to make sure that I do less unpaid labor (and look for more paying opportunities) because my financial health is becoming a priority too—especially as my health care becomes more specialized—and more expensive.

Deer and lights, Chateau Ste Michelle

I love the poetry world but one thing about it I don’t love is how it relies on writers’ unpaid labor (and submission fees, etc.)—usually the people who can least afford it—to prop it up.  I’ve been volunteering as a reviewer, editor, fund-raiser, PR person, etc. for over 20 years. Isn’t that crazy? If I acknowledge that I have limited time and energy, then I need to volunteer…less. This also means being pickier about venues for submitting poetry and reviews, as well as maybe trying to write more essays. (And a big thank you to the journals that pay reviewers and writers and the folks who organize paid readings and classroom visits!)

How do you guys balance your art with your finances and your health? It’s tricky. I also want to continue to schedule specific times to get together with writer and artist friends, too—and to continue to support local farms and artisans. If I can make it happen, maybe a residency or two and even a little travel (health-dependent, but it would be nice). It’s possible my folks may be doing an extended visit out here as well next year, which would be exciting. I’m going to try to continue to promote Flare, Corona (and hopefully help get some more reviews, especially—let me know in the comments if you’re interested) into the new year. It’s easy to get book fatigue at six months—I definitely feel like everyone has already heard about it from me too much already—so I need to keep at it and not get discouraged.

I hope during these darker, colder, hibernating months that you are taking good care of yourself, and I am sending you good writing energy and light. The holidays can be tough, so I hope they bring you a little bit of joy.

Speculative Sundays Reading Tonight, a Video on How to Read a Poem, Celebration vs Obligation

Speculative Sundays Reading Tonight, Sunday, 7 PM Pacific

I’m doing a reading and Q&A tonight at 7 PM Pacific with Speculative Sundays. Tickets are free and available below. I’ll be reading a little from my newest book, Flare, Corona, and a little from my previous book, Field Guide to the End of the World.

Speculative Sundays Poetry Reading Series presents Jeanine Hall Gailey Tickets, Sun, Nov 19, 2023 at 7:00 PM | Eventbrite

Photos of Charlotte and Sylvia at the request of my mom. She likes to see proof of cats!

Edited: I missed this reading somehow by two hours and never got the correspondence the organizer sent. I’m so sorry if you showed up and I didn’t. I was having breathing trouble tonight (MS-related? asthma?) but I had my outfit and makeup and even practiced the reading (for no one, sadly.) Boo hoo.

Canadian Geese in flight

A Video on How to Read a Poem

Last week, at our Reading Between the Wines book club, we talked about Louise Gluck’s Meadowlands, and I was asked to give a talk for beginning poetry readers on how to read a poem.

I talked a little bit about this in my last post, the fact that I hadn’t really ever given a talk on how to read a poem, rather I was used to teaching people how to write a poem. Here it is on YouTube, though the lighting is less than flattering. Caveat: it’s fairly short, people may not agree with everything I say, and I use Meadowlands’ poems as examples throughout the talk. Canadian geese in flight at a winery down the street from my house.

Sylvia holiday

Celebration vs Obligation

I had the good experience of a salon with Tatyana Mishel Sussex on the subject of celebration, and then talking about how holidays, birthdays, writing news can be seen as obligations and celebrations. You may have heard the “magic” of the holidays is mostly created by the free labor of women. I am a big holiday person, though I hate Thanksgiving (pretty miserable childhood Thanksgivings probably the source) and love not just Christmas, but all the yuletide-type celebrations of light—Hanukah, Dewali, the New Year, etc. Anything that celebrates lighting a candle in the dark. My husband, when we got married, was not much of a Christmas person but loved Halloween—so we started a tradition of spaghetti dinners on Christmas Eve, chilling out, watching movies as well as me embracing a much more Halloween-y Halloween.

This has been a rough week for me—a close relative was diagnosed with cancer (and I’ve already got a list of good friends and relatives—mostly youngish—battling it) and I had a mini-flare (or exacerbation) of MS caused by mystery reasons—I did have a mini-flare at this time last year, so maybe something about the time of year—the cold, the lack of light, allergies, time change, the stress of the holidays. Anyway, it meant I couldn’t sleep, read, I had trouble swallowing, I kept tripping and I had to take emergency medication. A lot of my friends and family have covid right now. Glenn had a restaurant event with work, he got a flu shot but the Novovax won’t appear in our pharmacies until next week. Have you read it’s a record year for norovirus too? Martha Stewart, that icon of home-and-holiday-celebrations, had to cancel Thanksgiving because too many people called in sick.

Me at Cranberry Cottage in Bothell

We’re just trying to stay as safe as we can—while still trying to connect with friends and family, doing the celebrations that are important to us. This picture is from a little excursion to a new-to-me corner of Bothell—a neighboring town—with a cute shop called Cranberry Cottage, which has got to be the most Hallmarky-name of a shop like this in the universe. I got some presents for my mom and surprisingly, my oldest brother—who both have birthdays coming up in the next couple of weeks, I talked to some of the employees, some of whom made candles or ornaments that were on the shelves. I admire makers—writing is a kind of making—and once again, just like at the farm, it felt like small connections to the world around me, from which I mainly hide or communicate by Zoom, phone, or e-mail.  I’m looking forward to spending Thanksgiving with my little brother this year—a small but manageable celebration, and mostly very chill (although Glenn is still making his extravagant plans for roast duck, stuffing with apples and cranberries, roasted sweet potatoes and carrots, probably some amazing appetizers as well and dessert, which he has been doing experiments for the past couple of days).

All this is just to say, we have to remain in balance—safe, but still connected—celebrating, but not out of a sense of obligation, but real, well, thankfulness, at a time of year when it’s cold and dark. Here’s wishing you and yours a safe and happy holiday season.

How to Read a Poem, In Between Holidays, and Galloping Toward 2024

Our red maple

How to Read a Poem

Hello from chilly, blustery November in the Northwest. This picture is from my maple tree during a brief break of blue sky. I was under the weather for a lot of the week (some days not even able to get out of bed)—not covid, but another equally annoying bug I caught probably when I went to the dentist earlier in the week. Sigh. Even Glenn got the sniffles and slept in a bit.

I’ve been trying to prepare a 15-minute talk for my winery bookclub this Wednesday. We’ll be discussing the late Louise Gluck’s terrific book, Meadowlands.

I’ve taught classes to veterans and disadvantaged high school kids and college students, but since I usually teach creative writing, I would instead talk more about how to write a poem than how to read one!

I know what I don’t want to say—poetry isn’t supposed to be an escape room, it’s supposed to be something enjoyed or appreciated the way a piece of visual art or music is. Poetry isn’t autobiography—it can be memoirish, but it can also be fictionish.  But there are some tools poets use that non-poets might want to understand or know about, so I thought I’d talk about those—tone, diction, punctuation, sonics, images, metaphors, etc. Anyway, I hope it will be useful! And if you have any suggestions, leave them in the comments!

Sylvia and Charlotte with Halloween decorations

In Between Holidays

As we took down the decorations for Halloween (see the cats who had a lot of curiosity about said decorations), we started thinking about our plans for Thanksgiving (this year we’ll be celebrating with my little brother) and Christmas (only five weeks away now, somehow…which means it’s almost the new year—an alarming thought).

The state of the world, such as it is, seems like the opposite of peace on earth, good will towards men right now, so it’s hard for me with the cognitive dissonance of the news and the celebrating of our usual holidays. But there are still small kindnesses all around—an older man in a cowboy hat helped me when I lost my balance with my cane at the grocery store, waving off thanks, and there’s the kindness and love of my friends and family that they show to each other, even struggling through cancer, covid, money troubles.

Glenn and I with poinsettia tree at Molbaks

I know in my last post I talked a little about feeling down and I’m still struggling myself with—I don’t know, depression and anxiety for cause? It’s hard to motivate myself to do my usual things. Especially when my MS acts up as it did this week, when I got the dental work-related bug. And it’s extra hard to get out of bed when the wind is howling and the rain keeps falling.

But I’m also trying to do the small things that I can do to brighten the days. Visiting with friends and neighbors, buying little gifts for loved ones, reading books I love, even trying to write and submit a little bit after a break of a few weeks. Yes, even putting up holiday decorations or admiring the ones going up around my neighborhood. I’ve even been gardening a bit—planting bulbs, fertilizing my little trees that I’ve planted over the last few years in my small yard, as it feels like something productive even when I can’t be productive in other ways. I also spent time watching movies I love—Before Sunrise, Christmas in Connecticut…old Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant films never fail to make me smile.

There’s something about the end of the year that makes me take notice of the things that happened in the year, significant, happy and unhappy. In the year 2023, I turned 50, I saw my parents and older brother in person for the first time in years, my sixth book came out with a terrific press, and I even did a mini book tour for Flare, Corona (my next reading, by the way, is online on November 19th—no rest for the wicked!) I made new friends among local farmers and winery workers and book club participants. I spent a lot of time walking with my cane through flower fields and pumpkin farms. And even though I feel a little down now, I can say this year really did have a lot of gifts in it.

Carousel Horse at a local shop in Bothell

Galloping towards 2024

Yes, just like this little carousel horse, I’ve felt like I’m galloping towards 2024. It seems like it’s creeping up on us whether we want it to or not! The year of the Dragon! The year of America’s next Presidential election. What good and bad await us next year we have to wait and see.

I’m hoping for a more peaceful year in 2024. I’m hoping this darn pandemic starts to wind down a bit, still having a number of friends and family in the hospital—while trying to dodge the germ myself—is a bit wearying. I’m hoping to find a way to make enough money to pay off my student loans and hope to find a magical miracle kind of work that I can do while chronically ill and disabled and that I actually enjoy. I’m hoping to see more loved ones in person, both friends and family.

So, during this “in-between” holiday season, I’m wishing you peace and joy. I wish you time for fun and hope, not just worry.

And in case you missed it last week, our baby bobcat paid us another visit captured on our Ring camera and here it is:

Welcome to the Big Dark—Halloween Costumes and Cats, Hanging with Poet Friends, When You Contemplating Quitting (Poetry, etc) and End Times Mindsets, Bonus Bobcat

Cat disguises self as Halloween candy

Welcome to the Big Dark!

Seattle welcomed—or, grudgingly accepted—the Big Dark last night, when the time change brought us dark mornings AND dark afternoons, and dark all the time in between. Plus, a week of power outages, rain and windstorms! You can see why Seattle-ites—even non-sunworshippers like myself—can suffer from depression this time of year.

Fortunately, the storms waited until after the trick-or-treaters on Halloween! You can see this picture of Glenn and I dressed up as Barbie and Ken (below). I couldn’t attend the Barbie movie premiere in person because my immune system (I was still being fairly protective because of some antibody infusions I was getting) so we brought the props home—a little child-size Barbie box and Glenn looking legit like Western Ken (sans fringe).

Me as Barbie and Glenn as Western Ken

Plus, this cat was trying to escape disguised as Halloween candy. No good, Charlotte! We saw right through your schemes! We did get a lot of cute trick or treaters this year, which is always fun and we took the rest of our candy to a local winery that donates Halloween candy to the troops, which seems much better than Glenn and I eating it.

The weather also mercifully held out until my poet friend Kelli Russell Agodon and her husband Rose got on the ferry back to their home, after their visit out to see us and do some local celebrating at Woodinville’s Molbaks, which does some fantastic holiday display stuff (as you will see in pictures later in the post).

Because we visited the very day after Halloween, they didn’t have ALL the holiday decorations up yet—missing some lights and a huge poinsettia tree that was up two days later.

Kelli Agodon and I with tropical plants at Molbaks

Hanging with Poet Friends

One thing I’ve been trying to do is make time to see friends in person—at three and a half years and counting, it’s been a long pandemic—and this week my friend Kelli and her husband made the long trek from over the water to see Glenn and me. Glenn provided a delicious brunch, we had sparkling wine from a local winery, and then we went adventuring at the aforementioned home and garden store famous for its over-the-top holiday decor—like $1100 stuffed display polar bears, oversized trees, camping scenes, holiday pastel bakery scenes. Hey, when you’re trying to stave off Big Dark (not to mention, horrible news all day everyday) sometimes you’ve got to do some crazy things. It is really good to see people we love in person. Kelli and I got to talk a little shop too—about writing, making money, survival as a poet, book sales during a pandemic, and more.

So below, another pic of Kelli and me, and then two pics of Glenn and I two days later at Molbaks’ holiday party because yes, that’s how much I like being around flowers in November.

When You’re Considering Quitting (Poetry and Etc)

I had the sad news today that Tom Holmes was quitting his quirky-but-fun poetry magazine that I’ve been a fan of for years, Redactions—and that’s the news after a couple of high-profile lit mags went down this week. Funding is being pulled, universities are laying off staff left and right, and lit mags are struggling. The poetry world in general is struggling, maybe just here in America, but it feels like maybe this is a larger phenomenon. People in general are struggling to feel hopeful. This made me think about mindsets of writers in the past. T.S. Eliot wrote his classic “end of the world” poem “The Waste Land” in 1922 – he hadn’t even been through the Great Depression or WWII yet!

I recently read Agatha Christie’s Hallowe’en Party (the book on which the recent movie Haunting in Venice is loosely based – free on Hulu right now, FYI). It was written in 1969, right after the UK took away the death penalty for murder, a change that Christie – a woman who, might I remind you, successfully faked her own death when she found out her first husband was cheating on her and obsessively read crime news articles – thought was definitely signaling moral decay and even an end to civilized society. (Hey, stuff was weird in 69—the first lines of the song “Beeswing” are “they called it the summer of love—they were burning babies burning flags the hawks against the doves”—sound familiar?)

When Virginia Woolf took her own life at the midst of WWII, her house in London had just been bombed and she legitimately thought the Nazis were going to win and come and kill her husband (who was Jewish). Did England at the end of 1941 feel like end times? I bet it did. Add to that health problems and mental health issues, and it became too much.

Sylvia Plath and Marilyn Monroe took their own lives way too young, both thinking they were somehow “over the hill” (!!) and looking at themselves as failures, when years later we still see them as legends. It is a shame neither lived long enough to see how long their legacies would last. If they’d only held on a little longer, maybe they would have known more about their own success, their impact?

It is easy to lose hope. Little and big things—the weather, current events, job and money anxiety—can make life seem that much harder for people who were already struggling. Be sure to reach out to your loved ones and make sure they are doing okay. Be extra kind to the people around you, if you can be. I am a girl who thinks about endings a lot—I mean, I wrote a book that was published a few years ago all about the end of the world, and that was BEFORE the pandemic, Trump, the recent wars in the Ukraine and the middle East.

This year, I turned 50, and I guess I am feeling a bit of the midlife crisis they advertise – that is, questioning my life’s work at this point, wondering why I haven’t been able to pay off my student loans yet, wondering if poetry is something I should continue doing, worrying over the dwindling numbers of poetry mags and book sales. Should I do something that makes more money but that I hate? My health problems at this point probably make working a “normal” job impossible, but taking disability—which some of my family members have advised, given how little money I’ve made in the last couple of years—seems extreme at this point. (Plus, dealing with lawyers and paperwork are two of my least favorite things—I barely apply for grants and residencies as it is because I will do anything to avoid paperwork. That they ask sick and disabled people to jump through so many hoops to get payments that would barely cover my grocery bill is another whole problem. The average wait time in this country to get disability is six years.)

I love art. I love encouraging and mentoring people, but teaching full time—which is the way many poets and writers make their living—seems not likely at this age. (Multiple degrees, and eight books, what do I have to show for it besides a lot of debt? Sigh, sigh.) I could do a part-time low-residency job, but those are few and far between. I’m told I’m good at editing, which I could do part-time, but honestly, it takes a lot of brain power and MS has made it harder than it used to be.

All this is just to say, how do we decide when it’s time to quit—a job, a relationship, or even a passion for an art that just doesn’t seem to be thriving the way we wish it would? I’ve quit poetry twice during my lifetime—in my middle twenties, right after my MA when I decided the poetry world was too corrupt and became a tech writing manager for a dozen years instead, and in my thirties, when I struggled to get my first book—the one that became Becoming the Villainess—published. My love of poetry and desire to do it has flared up intermittently—the two notable times, when I had double pneumonia and was living in California, struggling to pay regular bills, at the hospital on several IVs and oxygen and thought “I can’t die—I haven’t published my second book yet!” and again when I was diagnosed seven years ago with terminal cancer and thought “I can’t die—I still have more poems to write!” Every single decision we make in life has an impact—where we live, whom we live with, what we choose to do for a living, who we hang out with, how we vote, even adopting an animal, taking on volunteer work for a charity—and sometimes it’s good to have moments when we look hard at our current situations and ask: is this right for me, right now?

Anyway, I certainly don’t have all the answers. If you are a writer and questioning whether you’ve made the right decisions, I understand. Just remember we’re not always the best judges of whether or not we live in “end times” or whether or not we’ll be considered “failures” down the line. Don’t give up too easily. I am saying that to you and to myself. Maybe there are good things right around the corner.

And if you’ve made it this far, just for a little anti-darkness cheer, here is a real-life video from this week of a baby bobcat on my back porch. I mean, baby bobcats! Or bobkitten, if you will!

Happy Halloween! Spooky Season, Spooky Poems, Spooky Reading, Upcoming Speculative Reading

Kitten with pumpkins at local pumpkin farm

Happy Halloween! Spooky Season, Spooky Poems, Spooky Readings!

Happy Halloween! I bet a lot of you have already bought your candy, pumpkins, etc and maybe even gone to a Halloween party or two. My husband is a big Halloween fan, and the news (and social media) has been so grim lately, we’ve been trying to create some joy around us. We had two nights of record cold temperatures that knocked out the last of our garden’s flowers and froze our bird baths overnight. We had a lunar eclipse this week and the moon has been rising orange at the edge of the sky.

I myself have been struggling with a low mood, so I’ve been consciously trying to do things that usually cheer me up this time of year—visiting pumpkin farms, reading seasonal poetry and fiction, spending time with supportive people, and helping others. We brought some pumpkins and wine (Woodinville’s most popular exports) to my little brother for his new rental home housewarming, and it was great to see my little brother and his wife (who had been living much farther away, requiring a ferry ride and a rather temperamental and prone-to-surprise closures bridge). I spent time with the local farmers, talking strategy, flower planting, even poetry. Anyway, if you are feeling powerless in the face of evil, hatred, and doom, you’re not the only one. So, even though the pictures often show me smiling—like the ones below—just remember we are all doing the best we can.

Bonjour Witches! At Chateau Ste Michele

Spooky Poem

I have a tradition of posting a spooky poem from my latest book on Halloween, and even though Flare, Corona is a little less horror-and-speculative centric than some of my other books, there are some Halloween-y poems in there. Here’s one of them, originally published in Boulevard: “Self-Portrait as Murder Mystery:”

Fly Agaric mushroom with fall leaves

Spooky October Reading

What do you like reading in October? Our Read-Between-the-Wines book club read Osamu Dazai’s Blue Bamboo short story collection this October, and the discussion was great – and a lot of people got into the spirit and came in costume, so that was fun. I’ve also been reading Agatha Christie’s Halloween Party, the slightly-more-disturbing basis for the new movie Haunting in Venice, Kiki’s Delivery Service by Eiko Kadono, the coming-of-age story about a young witch that was the basis of Miyazaki’s movie of the same name (very Halloween-appropriate for kids!) I also read Louise Glück’s books in honor of her recent passing, including American Originality: Essays in Poetry, and my first editions of House on Marshland and Meadowlands (which will be the book club’s November read!)  House on Marshland includes one of the greatest Gluck poems of all time, “Gretel in Darkness,” also great reading for Halloween.

Book Club at J. Bookwalters

I’m still wrapping my head around the lyric essay and so re-reading some books of lyric essays in my collection, including Jenny Offill’s Department of Speculation and her newer Weather.

I’m doing a reading on Zoom for Speculative Sundays, on November 19 at 7-8 PM, and you can sign up for free tickets here: Speculative Sundays Poetry Reading Series presents Jeanine Hall Gailey Tickets, Sun, Nov 19, 2023 at 7:00 PM | Eventbrite

Spooky Orange Halloween Hunter’s Moon

Happy Halloween, My Friends

So, take care of yourselves and have yourself a joyous Halloween, Day of the Dead, All Saints Day, or Samhain. Take time to look at the moon, maybe eat some candy, read something spooky.

A New Review of Flare in New Pages, Pumpkins and Typewriters, Halloween Mystery Parties and Thoughts on the Lyric Essay

Typewriter with pumpkins

Typewriters, Pumpkin Farms, and Spooky Stories

This week has been busy—a new review of Flare, Corona in New Pages, a few visits to pumpkin farms, a Halloween Mystery night at a local winery, and a re-reading of Osamu Dazai’s Blue Bamboo for the October winery book club and reading up on the lyric essay form. Plus, typewriters in the wild has a new location—growing in a pumpkin field!

I have been practicing with my new camera some more, this time with typewriters. I love being around farms and farmers—and they are usually people I feel so comfortable with—that sometimes, even with my MS/health stuff, I wonder if I missed my calling to become a farmer. This week, the kind farmer at McMurtrey’s Pumpkin and Tree farm invited us to take home handfuls of dahlias and tomatoes. We talked about how to keep our apple trees from catching diseases and how to rotate dahlias and pumpkins. I know people say Seattle has a reputation for unfriendliness, but you won’t find it among Woodinville farmers or farm workers. A few pictures from that farm and backyard below.

Glenn and I at JB Growers Pumpkin Farm

A Review of Flare, Corona in New Pages

I was pleased and surprised—I’m always surprised to get a new review of a book that’s been out more than six months, but I’m also grateful. Here’s the link: Book Review :: Flare, Corona by Jeannine Hall Galley – NewPages.com

And a sneak peek of the review below:

Halloween Mystery Parties

This weekend we did a Halloween mystery night (themed: witches and druids) at J. Bookwalter’s Winery in Woodinville (hence the pictures to the left: that is a raven on my head, thanks). A lot of the party was set outside and it was a nice night, thankfully, so we didn’t have to worry too much about the dreaded covid.

It was not a typical murder-mystery scenario—more like a sort of goth video game? I’m very competitive so I was sad we didn’t win, but the team that won had five people who were way more committed than we were—costume wise AND game-wise. Anyway, it was a good way to shake up our routine date night and it was very on theme for the week before Halloween.

Lyric Essays and More

One of the things I’m working on now is an essay, ironically, on lyric essays, so I’ve been doing some research, reading some books of lyric essays. It’s weird for me, since I’ve been a journalist, a technical writer, an ad copywriter, a book reviewer, and a poet, but until the pandemic I didn’t write personal essays or lyric essays. Even though I’ve had some essays published I certainly don’t consider myself any kind of expert.

But on Facebook I put up a query and got some really interesting answers, from people who definitely are more qualified than me. And as a poet I’m attracted to the idea of an essay that isn’t necessarily: theme, point, point, conclusion. That allows for leaps, long parentheticals and ellipses – in short, essays that mimic poetry in a lot of ways.

Here’s a little fun read if you, like me, are interested in creative nonfiction and how to define the lyric essay: my friend and fellow poet Julie Marie Wade’s lyric essay on defining the lyric essay—funny and useful: What’s Missing Here? A Fragmentary, Lyric Essay About Fragmentary, Lyric Essays ‹ Literary Hub (lithub.com)

Anyway, my research has led me to think about experimenting more with the form. Next week, I promise to post a more spooky post with spooky poems!