Supermoons and August Flowers, Hospital Trips, Taylor Swift and Flare Corona on Instagram Together, and A Topsy Turvy Week

Supermoons can be tricksters

August Supermoons, Things Go Topsy Turvy

This week started with the first of two August Supermoons, two things that bode ill for me—August and Supermoons. On the nights of supermoons, I have passed out, been diagnosed with MS, been in the hospital…and August is my worst month for MS symptoms. I looked at my Facebook memories over the past ten years for the first week of August, and in seven out of ten I’ve been in the ER for something. And I’m afraid this week was no different.

But it started out with good things: seeing August flowers, some house projects we finally got around to, and the news that Taylor Swift as Books (the Instagram account) was going to feature Flare, Corona. I started out with good intentions for the August Sealey Challenge.

August blooms—dahlias in Woodinville

Blooms of August, Cats in Boxes, and Sealey Challenge Stacks

August can be a beautiful month—my own garden suddenly looks like a real garden—lilacs, sweet peas, dahlias, roses, and hydrangeas all in bloom at once! I’ve been gathering little bouquets the last few weeks. We also spied a gorgeous dahlia display in Woodinville and water lilies in Kirkland. Our cats enjoyed our home improvement projects—especially the chance to sit in boxes. I got out my stack of poetry books for the Sealey book-a-day challenge (which I may not succeed at, but oh well, intentions!)

But then…I started to feel sick…

Taylor Swift as Books and Hospital Trips

The good news for this week was a new kind of thing for me—Instagram book fame, LOL! The Instagram account Taylor Swift as Books—which pairs book covers with Taylor Swift looks and funny hashtags—put my book, Flare, Corona, up on Thursday!

But before I had time to celebrate, something was going very wrong with me, and I ended up in the hospital with a pretty bad infection. I’m back at home now, on heavy antibiotics, but several days were just a blur. I did have two doctors get ahold of me on the weekend (!!) to make sure I didn’t die, which was nice. I have an immune deficiency, and sometimes infections hit me harder than they should, and are harder to shake, and that was the case this week. But at least I got a nice pint of saline, some Zofran, blood work and antibiotics—and the female ER doc also had MS, which I thought was amazing (I rarely meet doctors with MS, even as an MS patient). Hopefully, I’ll be on the mend soon—wish me luck!

Getting Back Into Routines, Finding Joy in Writing and Talking Books, and Looking Forward to Fall (Readings?)

Three Hall Siblings in One Space/Time: Mike, Chuck, and Me (missing oldest brother Don)

Getting Back into Routines

My older brother and his family flew home Tuesday morning, and after a great visit, Glenn and I are settling back into our slower, two-person routines—watching birds and butterflies, giving our two cats and the garden attention, going to book club, and a staggering amount of laundry and grocery shopping to catch up on.

I am also catching up on e-mail and other correspondence, so if you’re missing something from me, please ping me and let me know. It is possible things have slipped through the cracks! As covid levels are ticking back up, I’m extremely grateful to have been able to visit with my parents and my older brother this year after so many years of not seeing each other. Zoom and phone calls are not the real thing, though they are better than nothing.

Tiger Swallowtail butterfly on pink verbena in my garden

Finding Joy in Just Writing and Talking Books

After book club on Wednesday where we discussed the poetry book Our Dark Academia (in case you’re following along with the book club) among other things, I remember feeling a moment thinking about taking joy in talking about books and just writing for fun, not worrying about publishing or marketing or any of that stuff.

I think I got exhausted from the first few months of my sixth book coming out, plus AWP and all that accompanies that, and it was nice to remember that appreciating poetry is kind of its own reward, and that there are simple things that give us joy: visiting with family and friends, walking through a field of lavender, watching butterflies, and writing poetry among them.  I’m not particularly good at slowing down and having moments of peace and joy, I actually had a book as a teen called When I Relax I Feel Guilty, so this week was a bit of a revelation. Then I wrote two poems (I hadn’t written in a little while) and didn’t worry about updating any spreadsheets or submitting or rejection—I just enjoyed writing them.

Looking Forward to Fall (Readings?)

Having taken a brief break from promoting the book (because summertime in Seattle—the whole Pacific Northwest is a rough time for readings unless you’re part of a conference or an MFA residency because everyone just wants to be outside), I am now planning and thinking about the fall—doing more readings for Flare, Corona, doing a “PR for Poets” talk and Q & A with Kelli Agodon over Zoom for her Two Sylvias Daily Muse subscribers. (Here is a link to subscribe—it costs money, but there are free Zoom talks included—Kelli did a poetry generating workshop last month and she’s got speakers like Maggie Smith lined up and a cool newsletter among other things.) I may even run an independent class (I’ve been asked to do it—I just need to figure out what to teach and how to do it online in the best way). It turns out I really like the human connection aspect of doing readings in person again, and I’m actually looking forward to it. Plus, autumn is my best time in terms of energy—the air’s a little colder, the long summer days shorten a little, my favorite foods are in season—and it also seems to be a time when people want to read more and buy books, maybe? Anyway, look for more information on upcoming events coming soon!

I also want to plan to celebrate some things—including Glenn’s graduation with his master’s degree, which he got entirely during the pandemic at Pepperdine University—because I’m realizing it’s important to celebrate things, to take time to feel joy, to do things that make you feel happy. It’s also important to prioritize spending time with people you love. It’s all about balance—the world may pressure us to prioritize everything but resting, catching up with friends, celebrating, wandering through proverbial lavender fields (or actual ones)—but in order to build mental and physical health, creative energy, and a semblance of happiness, we need to prioritize them. Giving yourself time to dream, or do a puzzle, or redo your bookshelves, or read a book you’ve been wanting to get to “just for fun.”  As we head into August, which can be an anxiety-provoking month, the heat, the back-to-school expectations, the knowledge that summer is almost at an end—take a day off from work, or just a weekend morning, to do whatever brings you joy—and plan something you love for September, so you have more to look forward to.

A New Review in Colorado Review for Flare, Corona, A Visit from My Older Brother and Family, and Guest Blog Post by Kelli and I at the Poetry Department Blog on Making Your Own Residency

Me with sunflowers

A New Review of Flare, Corona in Colorado Review

I talked about feeling a little discouraged by the lack of reviews of Flare, Corona recently so I was very happy to see this review during this busy week! Thank you to Colorado Review and Carrie Ann South for this wonderful new review of Flare, Corona!  

Here’s an excerpt:
The discussion was inspirational, but make no mistake, Gailey’s work is not a saccharine survival story full of platitudes. She breaks down the false narratives we tell ourselves to get through the day in “At the End of Two Years of the Plague, You are Tired of the Word Resilience”: “…Resilience: you hear “Silence, slice, siren.”

The speaker points out the irony in companies touting “safety” during one of the most unsafe periods of our collective lives. Gaily approaches language with a tongue-in-cheek playfulness, taking an overused word like “resilience” and rearranging the letters into darker, perhaps more truthful, words. The poem argues that this kind of cheery language is meaningless, or at least filled with underlying tension…

…There’s something comforting in Gailey’s insistence that we’re powerless against forces of nature. Maps, Geiger counters, storm trackers, MRIs, and other tools intended to predict catastrophes recur throughout the collection….

At the same time, there’s an appreciation for nature’s beauty and the sheer miracle of our brief existence. The poems ask, is it better to know death is imminent or to be oblivious? “How to Survive” points out the futility of trying to prepare for death. It reads like a satirical instruction manual. The suggestions to avoid a plague (“Be alone, in the desert”) or a tsunami (“Be uphill”) reiterate the circumstantial nature of our existence. The real advice? “Sing your song, put the note in a bottle, be remembered, / because someday soon, we will all be gone.” No, this isn’t a depressing thought, it’s a truth, a relief, a peaceful acceptance. That’s the paradox in Gailey’s writing.”

Anyway, read the whole thing – it’s very well-written and I even cried a little when I read it.

Visiting with my Older Brother and His Family from Ohio

My older brother Chuck—a great older brother, who bought me my first record albums, introduced me to MST3K, and taught me how to make a cheeseburger—has not been able to come out to visit for a long time, and my health problems and then the pandemic kept me from being able to travel back to Ohio. So, a visit with him, his wife, and three children (who I’d never met) was overdue!

I took them to our lavender farm (a hit with the kids!), the Microsoft Museum (hit with the two nephews – video games!), and the Seattle Aquarium and Ivars (tried to talk them into the Ferris Wheel and various other things, but they just wanted to go back and swim at their resort pool LOL). It was a good visit—I can remember how awkward it was a kid visiting relatives who 1. had no kids and 2. had disabilities, so I tried to make it as fun as possible (within the limitations I have). And it seemed fine. It was great having time to catch up talking in person to my brother who I’m close to and miss all the time (thanks, Disney Plus, for entertaining the kids LOL).

Me with Moon Jellies at Seattle Aquarium

It was really the first time I’d spent any time at all around kids since the pandemic began—besides a short visit with my college roommate’s very well-behaved daughter at a poetry reading—so that was interesting and anxiety-provoking. Glenn’s cooking was a big hit even with the very picky children, and the cats were a hit too (although they were not excited in reciprocity—they are only used to adult visitors). I really enjoyed introducing the kids to things I loved around town—they loved feeding fries to seagulls at Ivar’s, for instance, and had unexpected enthusiasm for the lavender farm and its various flowers. (They even went back without us one morning!) They loved going to a local park. My niece loved my pink typewriter, and I taught her how to use it (though an antique, it doesn’t work flawlessly—much like myself, LOL!) This was my second big family visit in the almost-but-not-quite-post-pandemic this year—my parents came out for my birthday—and I was grateful to have the time with them.

With cocktails after a long day and night of manuscript editing

Guest Blog Post on Making Your Own Mini-Writing Residency with Kelli Russell Agodon on the Poetry Department Blog

Kelli and I have a three-part account of making your own mini-writing residency (plus takeaways from our experience) up at the Poetry Department Blog…aka The Boynton Blog. If you’re interested in the inside story in how we made a weekend retreat work for us as a way to work on our upcoming manuscripts, strengthen our friendship and increase our focus on our writing lives.

• Making Your Own Writing Retreat, part one
• Making Your Own Writing Retreat, part two
• Making Your Own Writing Retreat, part three

Wishing you a wonderful week! How can it almost be August? This summer has flown…

Anniversaries, Birthdays, Heatwaves, and Thoughts on Asteroid City and the Poetry World

Glenn and I at the lavender farm on our anniversary

Anniversaries, Birthdays, Heatwaves, and Asteroid City

Since my last blog post, I’ve celebrated my 29th wedding anniversary, my husband’s birthday, there’s been a crazy heatwave, I had my doubts about poetry, caught a summer virus (not covid, no worries, just a regular childhood virus my immune system isn’t strong enough to fight off), and watched Wes Anderson’s newest movie, Asteroid City.

For our anniversary, we accidentally stopped in for a Lady A (formerly Lady Antebellum) mini-concert at Chateau Ste Michelle, stayed out late with the first sunflowers in Woodinville at the Lavender Farm, and Glenn made a wonderful dinner of duck with cherry sauce and black forest cake for dessert. (We looked at reservations, but the menus weren’t very allergy friendly, and the prices have gone way up since we last went out—pandemic inflation maybe?) I was a little under the weather on Glenn’s actual birthday, so my little brother Mike took him out axe-throwing (yes, it’s a thing) and then out to dinner, which they really enjoyed. (Glenn said I’d enjoy the axe throwing, but my MS and joint problems said probably not, LOL.)

First Sunflowers in Woodinville

First Sunflowers, Heat Waves, and Asteroid City (Thoughts on Film and Poetry)

My weird summer virus coincides, weirdly, with a huge heat wave—temps of 90 (and humidity levels at 30) meant an almost desert-like feeling to Seattle in the last couple of days. We were watering the hummingbirds, two bird baths and fountains, our poor flowers and baby trees – and ourselves. We have air conditioning, but it struggles to catch up with temps over 80. A common Seattleite’s summer retreat to a cooler area, Cannon Beach on the Oregon Coast, had to close today because a mountain lion went to the beach to cool down!

Thirsty goldfinch at our bird fountain

On my sick days, I had a chance to catch up on movies—and I watched Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret (which was cute, and very true to the book, except for I remember the mother worked in the book?) and Wes Anderson’s Asteroid City, which felt like a mashup of many of my own poetic obsessions—apocalypse, the Cold War era’s paranoia, mistrust of the government, aliens, nuclear testing anxiety, quarantine and its reverberations, and of course, death, Shakespeare, and witches. Some of my friends really did not like this movie, which highlights artificiality in a sort of odd black and white narrated Rod Serling juxtaposed with a tableau of the American West in color and admittedly does not have a linear plot. But I loved it—and more than that, it was the first movie I’ve seen that made me want to make a movie. (I have a friend with a fancy Ivy League degree in film and I suddenly had the urge to ask to borrow all her books from the program.) This film almost felt like a visual poem—a pastiche of Wasteland-like fragments. The other thing I noticed was influences from my generation—from Futurama episodes (I recommend watching “The Series Has Landed” and “Roswell That Ends Well” for shot-to-shot comparisons) and MST3K fifties apocalypse anxiety films. Wes is four years older than me, so we probably watched and read a lot of the same things growing up. I loved Moonlight Kingdom, but I strongly identified with this film—it’s practically set in my childhood home of Oak Ridge with its massive government buildings and kooky genius children in nearby schools, called “Atomic City.”

It’s weird because this week I had a little bit of poetry-life anxiety (ie I applied to jobs that pay money again and felt my book wasn’t getting enough reviews and I wasn’t sure what else to do to promote it and that made me feel like a failure, tbh) so it was good to focus on another art form—especially since I’ve also been reading Tom Hanks’ book on movie making magic (Tom Hanks was also terrific in Asteroid City, and he should keep the silver hair from the movie.) And of course, the writer strike and actor strike are very much in mind. What would it be like to be a writer and director in the Hollywood world right now? I’m looking forward to two new movies coming out too—Barbie and Oppenheimer (which as you probably know, in my mind I combined as “Barbie as Nuclear Scientist: I am Become Death.” It’s hard to break new ground and be unique in the world of movies—it’s an art form that’s been around for about 100 years, but it feels like so many movies are sequels or remakes of earlier, better things, as if people have run out of ideas in that amount of time—and all these movies are sort of the opposite of that (Barbie could be a corporate movie, but with Greta Gertwig in charge, I doubt it). And poetry can be the same—it sometimes feels like the same ten people get all the awards and attention and just get rotated, and they come from the same neighborhoods and fancy colleges and sometimes all their poetry can feel the same. It’s hard to stand out in the poetry world! It’s hard to be unique. My favorite poetry books are quirky and off-the-wall and very much reflect the poet’s personalities—and I guess if my book finds its audience eventually, that’s the most important thing, not if it gets reviewed in the “cool” places or wins the “cool” prizes (though of course those things would be nice). With Flare, Corona, in particular, the experiences of being diagnosed (wrongly) with terminal liver cancer and then (correctly) with multiple sclerosis, with the science and comic book and humor and solar weather spins that I brought, I hope sharing it helps people going through some of the same things, even though that sounds corny! Anyway, I’ll be positively distracted this week because my older brother, his wife and kids are coming out to visit – the first time I’ve seen him in over six years, and I’ll be meeting the kids for the first time. So that’s exciting.

Stay cool as the whole country seems to be encountering a heat wave this upcoming week, and take advantage of any summer lulls to see movies you have been wanting to see or read books on your to-be-read stacks. You never know where inspiration might hit.

Academy of American Poets Puts Flare Corona on Their Summer Reading List, Writing Retreats with Friends and Working on a New Manuscript (with Supermoon)

Academy of American Poets Puts Flare, Corona on Their Summer Reading List!

Got a little bit of good news after the holiday week. Very grateful to have Flare, Corona appear on the Poets.Org 2023 Summer Books Reading List—some people received it in their Academy of American Poets mailing, but you can read the whole list here:

https://poets.org/2023-summer-books-list

Every little bit of PR really helps with poetry books. I also got my print copy of Foreword Reviews in the mail today, so it was a good poetry book day. If you haven’t gotten a copy of Flare, Corona yet, remember you can order a signed copy direct from me here or order from BOA. And if you want a review copy, you can send your review copy request directly to Kathryn Bratt-Pfotenhauer, Director of Development & Publicity, at bratt@boaeditions.org.  I’ve been a poetry book reviewer for 20 years, so no one more appreciates a good poetry book review than me!

Kelli took this picture of me with my new manuscript all over my hotel bed

Writing Retreats with Friends and Working on a New Manuscript (with Supermoon)

So, over the holiday weekend, my friend writer editor and publisher Kelli Russell Agodon and I snuck away for a few days at a local lodge to work on our manuscripts, talk poetry, goof around a little bit but mostly try to make some dents in our work on both of our next books. And I think it was very productive! In just a few days, Kelli and I both had updated versions of our manuscripts (mine hadn’t been touched for about eighteen months) and we got cocktails, went out for sweet potato fries, visited Woodinville’s awesome lavender garden, visited the Lodge’s resident pot-bellied pigs, stayed up late/got up early, and talked poetry. I did that thing where I spread out all the poems on my bed to see how they went together. I think I talked Kelli into putting mermaids in her book (you’ll have to see when it comes out!), and she talked me into putting less plague in my book and more spells.

July’s Thunder Supermoon at Moonrise, no filter

This also made me feel empowered as a disabled person, because I was able to pull off a trip with a friend without any major illness/disability crises. Sometimes people like me with chronic illnesses and disabilities can feel shut out of the traditional residencies because they’re not particularly handicapped-friendly or they’re someplace far from doctors or the difficulties can just be overwhelming, so I want to suggest this kind of alternative.

I felt so motivated, got so much done, and had such a good time. Grab a friend, find a place to stay for a couple of days (hopefully you’ve scouted out its ADA appropriateness and it has some local attractions around to visit and a good fireside lounge)—you don’t need two weeks or anyone’s permission—try it!

Happy Disability Pride Month!

Hummingbird hovering over bird fountain

The next two weeks are going to be challenging so I’m glad I had a little break! Sunday is Glenn and my 29th (!!) Wedding Anniversary, then his birthday is Thursday, then my older brother, his wife and three kids are coming out for their first visit to see us out here in Seattle, so I will be busy busy busy the rest of the month! There is usually something hectic about Seattle (and Seattleites) in the summertime, which is so gorgeous and short-lived—the need to get outdoors and appreciate the ocean, the mountains, the flowers and all outdoor venues becomes almost impossible to resist! Of course, with the wildfire smoke and MS flares being more common in the heat, I have to force myself to take it a little easier than most. Here’s wishing you a wonderful and productive July!

Happy Almost-4th with Birds on Display! Foreword Reviews Flare, Corona, Writing with Friends and Other Ways to Nurture Your Inner Writer, and Disability Pride Month

Happy Almost-July 4 with Birds on Display! And New Reviews, a Disability Pride Month Reading List, and Writing with Friends

Happy holiday weekend! I know most of the country is wreathed in wildfire smoke, so stay safe out there. I myself have been struggling with bad asthma this week – though no wildfire smoke is here yet – and have been breathing my nebulizer and relying on eucalyptus steam and steroids to keep my lungs clear.

While I’ve been resting, the birds have been putting on a wonderful display – especially a family of goldfinches and migratory Rufous Hummingbirds and their babies.

Flare, Corona Reviews and Reading Lists

Me with red hair for the 4th in lavender fields with Glenn

I was also lucky enough to have my first official print review of Flare, Corona in Foreword Reviews! Thanks, people at Foreword!  Here’s a sneak peek at the review, which also included a poem.

And did you know July is Disability Pride Month? I did not until CLMP posted a reading list for it, including wonderful books by friends like Ilya Kaminsky, my own new book and a poem of mine. I feel honored to be in good company, and ordered a couple of books off the list immediately. Here’s the list! Feel free to support disabled writers in July!

Writing with Friends and Other Ways to Nurture Your Inner Writer

I’ve also been working on my next book in preparation for a weekend writing retreat with my friend Kelli Russell Agodon. We are going to exchange books, talk shop, bring some books to read and maybe take some outings for fancy tacos, ice cream, or a lavender farm or winery. I also attended a wonderful online talk by Orion on fairy tales and climate crisis, which was really interesting (and I re-subscribed to Orion,) and had our book club where we discussed Donna Tartt’s The Secret History, and our next book up, the poetry book Our Dark Academia by Adrienne Raphel, who I’d never heard of before I picked her book at Open Books, Seattle’s all-poetry bookstore (where I’m heading today as well, along with a stop at the Frye Museum to see this exhibit by Kelly Akashi.)

Kelli and I pre-gaming for our writing retreat

As you might be able to tell, after six months of doing promotion work for Flare, Corona, readings, radio interviews, social media, etc, I felt my inner writer and creativity needed a little bit of a boost, a refill, if you will. I hadn’t been writing much new work or sending out much work, and some of that is the energy bank of a chronically ill/disabled person – hey, if you’re promoting your book, you don’t also have energy to write reviews, write new work, experiment in the way necessary, or think about where to send new work (much less get your nerve back up for rejection!) I don’t think it’s discouragement as a sort of estrangement, so I think that being around my writer friend and being around new books and art and the overall energy of working on a new book rather than trying to generate excitement about your previous work, which let’s face, you had to turn in edits way back at the beginning of the pandemic and who can even remember that far back?

In the meantime, my nine-month-old kitten Charlotte demonstrates a wise lesson: we really should stop to smell the literal roses (or lavender, or peonies, or sweet peas.)

Something about this time of returning to work/life/travel after a long period of absence with the pandemic makes everything a little strange, so it’s important to literally stop where you are, evaluate your surroundings, and make sure you are still enjoying the little things around you that might have gotten blotted out by all the busyness of the last few months. Part of being a poet, I think, is remembering those little moments – I mean, not all fluffy kittens and flowers, but all the moments worth remembering – time with your family, time creating, and time spending nurturing your creative inner self.

Welcome Summer! Celebrating the Solstice and a New England Radio Interview about Flare, Corona

Solstice sunset, with lavender and sun flare

Welcome Summer! Celebrating the Solstice and a Radio Interview

The solstice came this year gently – a little overcast, temperatures in the 70s, and the sunset lasted til almost past 9 PM. We celebrated more simply this year, a trip to 21 Acres, a local farmer’s market, where we bought local honey, cherries, peas, and carrots, and a sunset spent at the lavender farm down the street, where the blooms have just started on the oldest lavender plants. It was lovely to feel the grass, smell the lavender, feel the sun – not too hot or punishing – and welcome in this fraught season. (Fraught because of the wildfire risk and because MS patients tend to worse in the heat.)

In the wildflowers on the solstice

But there is a lot to love about summer, even for me – the slower pace, the longer less dreary days, more time for gardening and birdwatching, and cherries (I mean until you’ve had local cherries in Washington right at the peak of the season have you ever really had cherries?) And time with friends and family. I’ll be meeting some new family members for the first time next month – my little nephews and nieces who live in Cincinnati and have never been even close to the west coast. I’m looking forward to more wine-tasting dates with my writer friends – it’s easy to entice them out this way when the flowers are in bloom, every winery has live music and the patios are all open. When we were at the lavender farm (officially, the farm is called JB Growers Family Lavender Farm) we could hear a local concert on one side, people cheering for baseball players on another and the whistles of red-winged blackbirds all around – and still there was such a sense of quiet and peace.

Radio Interview about Flare, Corona, with WICN, a New England station, and Mark Lynch

I am grateful to WICN and Mark Lynch for interviewing me for their station about my new book, Flare, Corona. It was a pleasure – we talked about a shared love of 50’s sci-fi movies, health crises, and more. We actually went on talking after we were off the air, and it was so fun, It felt like talking to a friend, which means that guy is really good at his job!

Here’s the link to listen to the whole thing: Jeannine Hall Gailey – 90.5 WICN Public Radio

Anyway, I hope you enjoy and it gives you some insight into the book, writing during a pandemic, and killer shrews.

And here are a few more pictures from the week – from our solstice visit, a literary kitten living the good life, and our summer visitor, the black-headed grosbeak. I hope your entry to summer will be as gentle and lovely as possible. (Stay away, wildfires!)

Visiting (and Supporting) Local Lavender Farms, Building Your Own Residency, and When You Know You’ve Done Enough for Your Book

Mt Rainier with wildflower patch

Visiting and Supporting Local Lavender Farms

Glenn and I went to visit our local lavender (and later corn, and pumpkin) farm on its opening day, also the first day I felt well enough to get out of the house. It was the one cloudless sunny day before a string of cold rainy days (it was 54 degrees and rainy two days ago! In June!) And rain today. And tomorrow. After a hot dry May, our June has become June-uary.

We are thankful to have beautiful spaces in our neighborhood to celebrate. My own yard is pretty small (like most yards in the Seattle area—pricey real estate means small yards), so it’s nice to see what happens when you can plant acres of flowers or herbs or vegetables. Not to mention it’s good for local pollinators and birds. Look at this wildflower patch! And even though the lavender is just starting to bloom, it already smells amazing.

Flare, Corona in the lavender field

When Do You Know You’ve Done Enough for Your Book?

A friend of mine reminded me that I hadn’t posted a picture of my book on Instagram for a while, and also reminded me that most of my friends still don’t know I have a new book out (despite postings here, on social media, etc, for three months). And she was right! A friend just congratulated me on my new book after an Insta post this week.

This brought me to think about how and when you know you’ve done enough promotion for your new book. Even when you think you’ve done enough (and even if you wrote a book on book promotion for poets) you probably haven’t. So, Instagram post it is!

This also makes me think about my upcoming radio interview this Thursday on a radio channel in New England. Things like this are lucky breaks and bring attention to your book outside of your hometown. I’m also thinking about booking more readings this fall, and of course, still waiting for reviews (crossing fingers) and prizes (crossing fingers even more). It’s June and the book came out officially in May, though it made its debut in March at Seattle AWP. It feels like I’ve been promoting it for four or five months. But really, we should probably plan on about six months of solid promotion time for the launch of our books, including the months before and after. And for a whole year (or two), depending, we should plan to keep doing readings, interviews, or if other opportunities pop up. Poetry books have a long roll out—sometimes they sell better in year two than in year one, simply because word of mouth finally gets around, or someone teaches your book months after it comes out.

Fluffy Hummingbird

Building Your Own Writing (or Artistic) Residency

As a disabled and chronically ill person, most residencies are not built for me. If they require ladders to loft beds, or building fires, or steps, or even providing food that isn’t food-allergy safe (I’m allergic to about nine things, the most dangerous of which is wheat, in almost everything)—yeah, they’re not a good fit. I stopped applying for most residencies years ago when I realized—hey, they’re not built for non-perfectly healthy, able-bodied people. They’re not built for me. But I hear from a lot of people that they can’t do “normal” writer’s residencies for a variety of reasons besides their health—kids, jobs, or caretaking roles among them. So, here’s some ideas for people who can’t do the “normal” residencies.

Build your own! I live in a lovely area and there are a variety of places to stay at a variety of prices (yes, they tend to be higher in the summer as that’s our high season, but not always). If you can housesit for a friend going out of town, that can also count as a residency. Renting an AirBNB down the street. Anytime and anywhere you can get away—even just for a couple of days—to focus on your craft, your art and your writing, that counts as a residency in my book. I’ve got one planned in a couple of weeks, and I’ve already printed out poems for my next book to look at and started some relevant reading to prepare for it. Just this last week I spent over fifteen hours sitting in (virtual) doctors’ offices. Health problems are time-and-energy-and-money consuming. If I don’t set aside time (and energy, and money) for art and writing, it won’t happen—everything else will swallow it up. I’m sure you know how it is—if it’s not doctor’s appointments for you, it might be your family’s needs, your job’s needs, or the seven things you volunteer for (hey, I used to be addicted to volunteering, too).

Residencies should involve down time, too—you don’t have to spend the whole time reading and writing—you can goof off, sketch, visit local things you don’t normally get to, have a picnic, listen to music at full blast—anything that helps you get into your writing groove. And you can involve writer friends! Inviting a friend might help your residency to be even more productive, as you can get together and talk shop, plus friend time is important for artists of all stripes. Think about as building space for your creative self. It is just as important as any other aspect of your life, and deserves time, money, and attention. You know how, if you’re married or living with a partner, you reserve “date nights?” It’s the same for your creative self. So, think about creating your own personal artist’s residency. Good luck! And leave a comment if you’ve successfully done this!

A Week of Dentists, Downtime and Summertime Rain: The Ups (and Downs) of New Books

The Ups (and Downs) of New Books

Not feeling super for this update, had dental work earlier this week and got pretty sick for the whole week. This happens a lot to me after dental work. Part of the whole “crappy immune system” that is part of my life.

Goldfinches in flight

But that’s not what I want to talk about on the blog this week. Someone on Twitter this week talked about how depressed she felt after her first book came out. I tweeted back something like: “That’s normal, you’ve got it all built up in your head so there’s inevitably let-down, book launches (now more than ever before) take so much effort on the part of the author—social media, readings, constant promotion. It is tiring.” And those things are the truth. Flare, Corona is my sixth book of poetry, and my eighth book altogether—but you never really get used to it. It never gets easier. Even if you have a great press, even if you’re totally healthy, even if you’re not coming into year three of a pandemic.

See the goldfinches in that picture. One of them is about to get off his perch—the other is mid-flight. You get the sense these birds are putting in a lot of effort. If you’re mid-flight, you’re thinking about your destination—if you’re just launching, you’re thinking about how you’re going to make it. It’s sort of like that with books.  There’s the book launch—maybe a party with friends or with your publisher—a few readings, a few reviews, maybe even good ones. Maybe you sell a fair number of books. Then the excitement fades, and guess what? You’ve launched, but you’ve still got work in front of you. My first poetry book still has readers, believe it or not—and it was published in 2006, the publisher changed hands, and I don’t even know if you can buy it through regular channels anymore. The point is, after the three months of book launch activities have faded, the book goes on. Sometimes you get tired. Sometimes—and this is completely normal—you feel discouraged that the book didn’t do as well as you’d hoped.

Pink Peony garden

I’ll tell you a funny story about a non-poetry book. I wrote a technical book about web services once. I knew the press expected to sell 60,000 copies, and it sold more like 10,000. That would be a huge number for a poetry book, but a disappointing one for this particular kind of technical book. Because I was writing about technology that didn’t even fully exist yet, reviews were sort of dismal. But the key for me was that the expectations were higher than the actual performance. That always hurts. You always think: what could I have done better? Every book, I’ve learned something. Book promotion has really changed since my first book. The pandemic has maybe changed the face of book promotion forever. This time around, I learned about Instagram and video editing—there’s probably more I need to learn, too.

Striped rose

Summertime Rain and Restoration

It rained this week after a long (for Seattle, anyway) dry spell. My garden appreciated it, and also, it takes a little bit off the frenetic pressure (in Seattle, anyway) to be out having a “great time outdoors” during the summer, after the long gloom of wintertime (and it was longer than usual this year, too). The flowers appreciate the wet April and the dry, hot May—things bloomed early, then died off, and the second wave of summer flowers has begun in my garden and all around. I got out a little in my garden, fertilizing and pruning and checking on the health of all my little plant babies (my particular baby is my little Pink Lady apple tree which nearly died of mold last summer, after a very wet spring).

Red zinnia

The rain is a break, as I said, from the feeling that we should be out having a “good time” as long as the sunshine. Now, if you follow this blog, you may know I have something called “solar urticaria”—which means I’m allergic to the sun. My body actually does better under a protective cloud barrier. MS means the heat makes symptoms worse, too—so for most people, this is “max fun” season, whereas for me, summer is usually my time to stay in and not try to do too much. It’s a good writing season for me, as long as (ahem) I’m not sick. And downtime can be important. It can be restorative. When I study a lot of writers’ lives, I notice a lot of them had lots of downtime—whether because they were frequently ill, or they had a disability, or they were Emily Dickinson. The rain is good for the garden, restorative. It’s important for us as writers, especially during something stressful like a new book launch, to think about what restores us as artists. For me, the time to read (I’m reading five books at a time this week!) and spend time with other artists, and to be out noticing things – like, art galleries and gardens—are important parts of restoring my creative self. You have to decide what the things are for you. What’s your rain?

Reading Reports and Videos from Third Place Books and a Disability Fundraiser, First Butterflies and Ducklings, and Waiting and Planning (Summer Edition)

First butterfly report – swallowtail and lilacs

Reading Reports from Third Place Books and a Disability Fundraiser, First Butterflies and Ducklings

I was a little under the weather last week, and then had two reading events in a row – so this weekend I am taking it easy. The good thing about being a little under the weather is that when you’re around the house you notice things more – like, for instance, the first Swallowtail butterflies on the neighbor’s lilacs, or the first ducklings in the water.

And I was well enough for both readings to be fine – and I will say more about the readings later – but it’s nice now to have some downtime to plan for the summer. Maybe planning an online workshop, an online salon with a friend, or planning for the visit from my older brother and his kids. Right now it’s sunny and 65 degrees – now this is my kind of summer weather!

Glenn and I with peonies before disability awareness fund-raiser reading

Third Place Books and Breaking Barriers Reading Reports and Videos

So the two readings I had this week couldn’t have been more different, though both were wonderful. The first was Third Place Books, Lake Forest Park location. My college roommate (who I hadn’t seen in six years!) came and so did some old friends and even some of my book club friends, and I had lovely interactions with the bookstore employees too (and left with a special signed edition of one of my favorite books, Siri Hustvedt’s The Blazing World.) I was a little late and breathless on arrival, but Glenn captured some video. You can go to YouTube to watch the whole reading:

or if you don’t have much time, watch (in less than one minute!) one of the poems, “Wish You Were Here (Postcard from a Pandemic)” here: Jeannine Hall Gailey reads “Wish You Were Here from Flare, Corona.”

The other reading was at a fund-raiser event for Disability Writers Washington called “Breaking Barriers.” I performed after a hip-hop artist, there was a one-act play, a pianist and a comedian as well, all of us with disabilities, and the party was mostly disabled people (and some politicians) – it was huge, probably the biggest audience I’ve had in a while, at least two hundred people – and I felt I really connected to the audience, which was nice. (There may be a recording available but I don’t have it yet.) There were service dogs and I must say some very advanced wheelchairs – and an array of excellent sparkly jackets and shoes on both genders. (This has got me thinking of getting Glenn some bling-ier clothes!)

I was a little afraid of some kind of overload of people wanting some kind of performative positivity from disabled artists (which if you know me, is not really my jam), but because the audience was mostly disabled, it didn’t really feel like that. It did feel like a bunch of people who were actually trying to fight for things like accessible public transport and working rights (ADA stuff) being defended and other kinds of activism. I left feeling like I was part of a new kind of community. And I talked to a disabled teen about publishing her stuff, which sounded amazing. That kind of thing is very much like “oh, this is why I do this!”

Full Strawberry Moon

Waiting and Planning (Summer Edition)

So now is a time of rest, and waiting (for book reviews, or prize news, or anything else about Flare, Corona which, by the way, you can now buy locally at Open Books and Third Place Books,)  and planning for the summer. I plan to do a few more readings in the fall, if people are still interested, but in Seattle it feels like the summertime is not a good time to plan poetry readings, because so many people (especially after a weirdly cold long winter) are desperate to be outside ALL THE TIME. I’m looking forward to visiting Port Townsend and the beach, to visiting my local lavender garden and walking around the local wineries, summertime book club meetings, and more family visiting time. Glenn is also going to graduate from his Master’s program in August, so we should do something to celebrate that, right?

Summertime is also max MS symptom time, so I’m careful not to plan too much during the hot months. Last year there was bad wildfire smoke all the way through September, so hopefully no repeat of that (see: Poison Ivy new comics based in Seattle inspired by the pandemic and wildfires here.) The hard push – that started with Seattle’s AWP and ended with June 1st’s fundraiser reading – for Flare, Corona‘s launch has kind of eased, and now I can plan a more relaxed approach to book promotion, and choose my projects, which is nice. I’ve talked to a couple of people about doing some online events, workshops, and salons, which sounds fun. So as summer approaches, I’m wishing you all the same things I’m hoping for – adequate time to get outdoors in the forest, mountains, or beaches, good writing and reading, and getting back to in-person outdoors visiting with friends and family.