A Wonderful Reading at J. Bookwalter’s, New Glasses, Changes Coming and Looking to the Future

New Glasses and a Wonderful Reading at J Bookwalter’s New Reading Series

This has been a busy week: I got a crown on one of my front teeth (sorely needed), tore my rotator cuff (a first for me), got new glasses, and did my first live in-person reading in a very long time with three other lovely poets at the brand new reading series at J. Bookwalter’s Winery (fourth Thursday every month, includes features and an open mic, plus wine!)

The reading featured Erika Wright, Catherine Broadwall, Michelle Schaefer, and me, with John Campos as MC and a very civilized open mic at the end. There must have been fifty people in the audience, and I didn’t know many of them, but did get a see a few familiar faces, and met a lot of new ones. It seems there is, after all, an interest in poetry in Woodinville! Catherine, who has two books already, and I both sold multiple copies of our books (which seems miraculous these days), and the energy in the room (as you will be able to tell in the video) was just joyful and energetic. It was such a relief after the relentless bad news—I’ve been trying to avoid it, but it is difficult to avoid it all—to have a moment like this of happiness and wine and friendship and, um, dare I say community?

And if you want to watch my part of the reading, in which I tried something new: seven poems (from six books and one still-in-progress manuscript). At J. Bookwalter’s debut new reading series in Woodinville:

And here are a few pics from the reading, and me modeling new glasses:

Changes are Coming

You know how sometimes you get this feeling that whether you embrace it or not, changes are coming? I think we’re in that era. Not just the country, but the economy facing disaster under Trump’s terrible policies (like the tariffs, which will make all goods more expensive in the short term, perhaps even causing boycotts of American goods in the long term), facing a possible new pandemic (bird flu) under Trump’s terrible policies (like stopping funding to the NIH and removing America from the WHO), climate craziness, worries about my aging parents in a leaky three story house, and smaller things, worrying about my own body and house remodeling for accessibility, and trying to figure out the writing life and my place in the universe.

I think my goal of being more adventurous which I talked about in earlier blog posts was really my attempt to be on top of the increasing stormy swells I can see coming. This seems like a good time to improve your agility at life: building relationships, working on your physical and mental health, getting finances and home things in order. There are things you cannot control, but if the ability to see the storm coming is worth anything, it’s making sure you and your loved ones are as prepared as possible. If that ache in your knee can predict the weather, perhaps it can propel us forward into steps to make yourself as disaster-proof as we can be—though of course, disaster preparedness—or, trying to predict the monster of the week when you live on a Hellmouth—can feel futile. Our best assets are the ability to adapt to change—I did write a book called Field Guide to the End of the World, after all—keep your passports current, keep a go-bag handy, keep your friends close, try to forget “comfort” as a priority and focus on “survival skills” instead.

I am going to a writing retreat soon, so I’ll be off social media for a bit. Wish me good luck working. The new year has me off to a bit of a shaky start – with unexpected glimpses of kindness, joy, and kindredness. I need to be able to see a better future to finish this book. It takes a bit of looking, sometimes, to envision beyond the chaos of the moment.

Cold Wolf Moon, Changing Times with Fires and Social Media, Taking Better Care of Body and Mind in the New Year

Contemplating Changes and Changing Times with Fire and Social Media under a Cold Wolf Moon

Cold Wolf Moon

The full Wolf Moon was visible because of the uncanny cold clear weather we’ve been having here in the Pacific Northwest. We’ve been watching the LA fires with so much sadness, because I spent part of my childhood in LA and have many good memories of places there as an adult that have disappeared. Pasadena’s Altadena neighborhood was particularly tragic. Sending so much love and empathy to those who have lost so much. California is so beautiful, but so startlingly apocalyptic, and at the strangest times.

And we do live in strange times, don’t we? MLK Day is tomorrow (along with the inauguration of one of the worst people to be elected President in history) and a younger generation is mourning the loss of TikTok while an older generation, pissed at social media mavens’ various betrayals, are disavowing Facebook, Twitter, and Amazon.

And me? I’ve started the new year by contemplating change to my life, both mind and body.

Taking Care of Body and Mind (and hopefully spirit) in the New Year

I am not big on New Year’s resolutions, but given the stress that the news has brought (along with increased feelings of helplessness) and the clusterfuck that is social media right now, I limited myself since Jan 1 to thirty minutes of news a day (television, newspaper, or online) and decided to cut my time on my phone and social media in half. And you know what? My terrible anxiety and depression have lessened. I’ve seen more people in person, gone out of the house more, read more books. I’ve written more poems in the new year than I had in the previous three months.

And I spent some time taking care of some physical things as well—getting an eye exam and getting new glasses made (aging and MS are hard on the eyes!) and getting the first of four front teeth crowned (without Novocain – ouch!) I spent time checking in on myself in terms of where I am in my life and what I want to spend time doing with it. I’m going through a whole house reduction in stuff—from little things like throwing out old makeup and bath products to reducing the number of items in my closets and helping Glenn get rid of worn-out items—a broken toaster oven, worn out t-shirts. We are donating, recycling, and even consigning to help reduce overall waste, but I’m telling you, this act of getting rid of stuff in general has given me a feeling of more control over my immediate environment. (Have I reduced books yet? The answer is, not enough, lol! And I got rid of expired sunscreens and lip gloss and found I had to replace them. On the positive side, I found that going to the mall once convinced me that the clothing I already have is better made and cuter than the stuff I could buy there. So has it been a perfect experiment?)

I am also looking at my network of friends and family—and my writing career/life, as it were—and seeing what I need to nurture both. If the last four years have been isolating for me, as they have been for many with poor immune systems, it seems time to start rebuilding networks of people you can care about and who care about you, strengthening bonds you want to keep. If I don’t know exactly why I write, and I’m a bit at sea about what to do next, so to speak—for the next section of my life—not exactly sure at my age what to even expect—maybe that’s pretty normal. I can prioritize things that matter and decide to get rid of things that aren’t aiding me in my life. I can’t control wars, or Presidents, or the environment, my health, or how many people read my work, but I can decide what I spend my time and energy on, and who, and what deserves that time, energy, and money.

On the plus side, we had a lovely book club meeting this month at J. Bookwalter’s discussing After Dark—staying late afterwards to talk (and some to talk and try some fancy whiskeys—what a book club!) I spent time catching up with some new poet friends. Spending time with people in person can be so life-affirming, even if it does bring a few more bugs my way. And I have a real in-person reading next week, and my neighborhood of Woodinville is getting a reading series at the winery, with an open mic after—the first literary reading series I’ve heard of in this area for some time. I want to enter the world of writers again in a more active way. Like blinking into a brighter, harsher light after reading in the dark or cave walking for some time, I’m looking with realism—and some optimism—into 2025.

Sending you all the best possible energy into the next week, which might be a challenging one. Let’s hope the planet’s alignments bode well. Let’s hope we can all work to make our individual corners of the world a little brighter, and hope, by extension, to illuminate the world.

Hello 2025! Upcoming Appearances, Classes and Readings in January, Plus Plans

Hello 2025! Upcoming appearances, Plus Plans

How was your new year’s? I had a mild cold so we actually celebrated our new year on January 3rd! Now we’ve taken down our Christmas decorations and have restored the house to some kind of order, I’m starting to make plans for the new year.

One thing I want: more fun and more adventure. I’m not sure exactly how to make this happen, but I want to spend less time in doctor’s offices and more time with friends. I want to visit people and places that make me feel joy. More joy in 2025, somehow, even the chaos spinning around us.

If you want to see me, I am doing a class on PR for Poets with a Q&A after for the Poetry Salon – virtual on January 12th. See the flyer below. And, if you want to see me in person and you live in the area, I’ll be reading with a few friends on January 23rd at J. Bookwalter’s tasting room in Woodinville at 6:30 PM. Even though January is usually not my most energetic month, I’m also going to attempt to go to a writing residency! Whew! It turned into a busy month after all. And I’ve decided to try to attend AWP in LA after I said I wasn’t going to. I mean, Seattle in March is no picnic, and it would be great to see the sun, see friends, see the ocean…this is part of my plan for 2025. More fun, more adventure, right?

Plans, Resolutions, Hopes and Dreams

So, do you have a vision for your 2025? I am working on mine, though I admit the vision is not as goal-oriented as usual? I have hopes. Hopes I will be more well, and that I will get back into better physical condition (immune and otherwise.) Hopes that I can visit friends and family I haven’t seen in a long time, and visit places I have never seen before but always wanted to. Having the bath renovation in the middle of the year may be a good excuse to get away someplace (since I can’t be in the house for three weeks of the work due to my asthma and allergies.)

I watched the Wicked movie last night – I’d read the book when it first came out, but never saw the musical and though I enjoyed it, I repeatedly thought “I don’t really think I identify with the good witch.” Which would make sense given my first book was called “Becoming the Villainess,” even though I do like pink. I’m working on my next book which has villainesses like world-weary Persephone, Cassandra, Poison Ivy, confronting a world of plagues, politics, environmental disaster, with only their powers to protect them. I hope I find a publisher soon, but it’s a fun, and dare I say, defiant, book? So that’s part of my 2025 plan.

Accumulate less stuff, and add more experiences. That’s definitely a goal. More parties, more readings, maybe seeing some musical theater and more concerts (going to be ballet reminded me how much I love to be part of that scene! I used to do theater in high school, after all!) Be careful, but maybe not too careful?

Hope the beginning of your 2025 has been as healthy and happy as possible!

Happy New Year! Trumpeter Swans, Revaluating at Midlife after a Tough Year, MRIs, and Ballets

In Kirkland, in rare December sunshine

Happy New Year! Trumpeter Swans, MRIs, and Ballets

Writing this right before New Year’s Eve, and right after going to the ballet The Snow Queen, danced by the Kyiv Ballet, whom my little brother had seen while he was working in Ukraine right before the war. I hadn’t been to the ballet in a long time, but I remember really enjoying ballet as a kid and also as a college student (when I could still get student tickets).  It was fun, the dancers and costumes, although I was missing the talking reindeer and Robber Queen’s daughter.

Our Christmas was pretty quiet, but also low stress. The only thing I was sad about was missing Christmas Eve service, because for some reason the church we usually attend held their service on Monday the 23rd?  Then I had an MRI this week—never my favorite thing to do but expedient as it’s pretty expensive and I’d have to pay a new deductible after January 1 rolls around, plus those things always find something to worry about.

Here are a few pictures from Christmas, with Glenn holding Charlotte and a few baubles on the tree.

Driving by our pumpkin/lavender farm this week, we saw some beautiful Trumpeter swans among Canadian geese. And here’s a scene from the Kyiv ballet “the Snow Queen.”

Glenn and I going to the ballet

Re-Evaluation at Midlife After a Tough Year

I have to admit that this was a tough year for me. Is it because of my age? Is this a peri-menopause thing? A mid-life crisis? The election nearly wrung all my positive energy out of me. My last book’s sales were respectable but not great (not as good as my previous book’s), and my rejection vs acceptance rate was mediocre at best. I worked hard but felt a bit like I was butting up against a wall in the literary world. I am lucky to have wonderful writer friends but I’m missing the spark that usually drives me to write. Not sure if it’s plain disappointment or disillusionment or what, exactly. The grungy weather is bothering me a little bit more than normal, and my MS flared up worse this fall than it has in a long time—not sure of the cause, which left me unable to do much besides listen to audiobooks and watch old movies on TCM.

So, what do you do? Well, two good, very healthy friends—one died suddenly, the other experiencing a “surprise” terminal illness—have taught me a hard lesson. Maybe we should be kinder to ourselves, appreciating the days that we do have, and maybe not being so judgy about what we are accomplishing and focusing more and how much we are enjoying what we have, and experiencing things like “joy” and “awe”—things we often don’t put a priority on in our culture of productivity everywhere, all the time. While I am being scanned for tumors and tested for cancer and autoimmune problems, when I am dealing with yet another crown or root canal—I have to remember to prioritize the good days and take advantage of them. I have maybe, in the last four years, lived a too-circumscribed life, too safe? Certainly, too much damn time in doctor’s and dentist’s offices. Have I not been allowing myself enough adventure? Maybe that should be my goal for 2025—to live a more adventurous, joyful life—to maybe take a few risks in the days I have, because tomorrow is never guaranteed.

Anyway, my friends, happy New Year to you. May it bring you good things.

Happy Solstice, Merry Christmas and Happy Hannukah, Bad Blood and the Ballet, Wishes and Hopes for a New Year

Solstice double rainbow

Happy Solstice, Merry Christmas, and Happy Hannukah!

It’s 12:01 on the 22nd as I draft this post, the moon is rising on the horizon, and today was drizzly, with a beautiful double rainbow in the middle of the afternoon. Glenn and I spent are spending a quiet holiday—we went for dinner at the Fireside Lounge at Willows Lodge, where we saw two friends from our neighborhood pumpkin farm—one who was the performer of the live music. We also visited Chateau Ste Michelle, which was decorated for the holidays, and playing holiday music. We had the last book club of the year at J. Bookwalter’s winery, where we had mulled wine and a terrific discussion. We’re also delivering cookies to our neighbors and still working on holiday cards.

Woodinville lights with bunnies

It’s a quiet holiday here, which is good. I still have an MRI and more blood work to do before the end of the year. Last week I had some blood work with 40-some results, with about seven troubling “abnormal” results. Sobering, sure, but it’s not the first time immunologists and oncologists have given me bad news before a holiday, and it probably won’t be the last. On a happier note, I’ll be going to the ballet before the end of the year to see the Grand Kyiv Ballet—my little brother last saw them in the Ukraine before the war, dancing Swan Lake—perform The Snow Queen, one of my favorite fairy stories that Disney tried to ruin with Frozen. I have been to the ballet maybe a handful of times—I’ve seen The Nutcracker more than once, Peter and the Wolf, Swan Lake, and maybe one or two others. The last time I went I was writing cultural pieces for (laugh if you want) America Online. So that’s been some years. It’s good to make time for these kinds of experiences, especially if you’re in the winter, in need of beauty, of feeling something new, awe, etc., that sometimes only art can bring.

You, like me, may be struggling to feel hopeful about the new year, with the next presidency of possibly our worst president ever (not discounting terrible presidents of the past Woodrow Wilson, James Buchanan, and Andrew Jackson) and the vague rumblings of another pandemic—the bird flu—on the horizon. Sometimes it’s hard to see the moonrise when the glow of fire blots it out, an experience too frequent recently here on the West Coast. But the moon is there, all the same.

I’ve got a residency planned in January, and looking at more travel – residencies, classes in Europe, maybe. I’ve got a new book manuscript that I’m sending out to new publishers. Even if my health situation wobbles—as it has for years—there will still be joy and beauty ahead. Hospitals and medical tests and terrible politics can’t blot all that out. Read writers who lived through plagues and world wars; they all have something to say to us, now. Hope and joy can seem unreasonable in certain circumstances, but I will say sometimes hard time can push us to try new things, to take leaps we might not have taken in happier times, to find courage. Or maybe I will take hibernation to new heights. Either way, see you on the other side of the light, with days stretching longer before us. Here’s wishing you all a happy holiday season and happy-as-possible new year.