Early Cherry and Camellia Blossoms, New Poetry Books and a Rattle Podcast Where We Talk about Poetry Submitting

early camellia

Signs of Spring? Early Cherry and Camellia Blossoms and a Frost Moon

This week was a confusing and overstuffed week of a doctor visit a day (two brand new, which is always fun because you’re explaining all the weird stuff that’s wrong with you AGAIN) and three poetry Zoom sessions (two podcasts and a planning session for an upcoming poetry presentation).

On the plus side, a beautiful frost moon, at least one sunny day, some signs of spring around town such as early cherry and camellias blossoms—although we’re supposed to have snow tomorrow and again later this week. And some field trips—to Kirkland to walk on the water, and downtown during a windstorm to Open Books. More on that later.

Glenn and I in Kirkland on our one sunny day

Rattle Podcast on Poetry Submissions

One of the podcasts I did this week was “The Poetry Space” for the magazine Rattle, and I was joined by several other poets and the editors to talk about poetry submissions: advice about them, how we organize them, pet peeves, and more.

You can listen on Spotify (link below). It’s about an hour long, and I still don’t think we covered everything. Always interesting to talk about this sort of thing, the humdrum work of not writing, but getting published—a difficult and complicated chore that can be discouraging (all the rejections) and off-putting (all the different rules). But if you want to build an audience as a poet, it’s probably a good bet that you have sent out some submissions and will send some out in the future. (Although we also discussed sharing work on social media.) Anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments! I believe this podcast is also available on iTunes and other podcast listening options.

ep. 53 – How to Submit by The Poetry Space_ (spotify.com)

Sylvia in a bucket

New Poetry Books

Although I missed AWP this year, I did try to make up for missing the bookfair by picking up a few books at our Seattle all-poetry bookstore, Open Books, today, during a windstorm (A tree fell in a car in our neighborhood while we were away, the 520 was closed for construction, and I was nearly blown over walking down the street. Still, we would not be stopped!)

So far, I’m loving the essays on feminism and pop culture edited by Marisa Crawford, The Weird Sister Collection, and Dorianne Laux’s new book, Life on Earth. More on these later, but I particularly loved the essay the “White Male Canon as Nineties Pop Songs” by Marisa Crawford, and this beginning to the essay “The Honesty of Jean Rhys” by Kristin Sanders:

I recently had a conversation with a man about Bukowski. Had I read much Bukowski? I said I’ve avoided a lot of the bro-writers: Bukowski, Burroughs, Miller, Kerouac (though I’ve come to love Kerouac). He said, Yeah, those guys are great writers, but, you know, they’re not really great toward women.

It’s not surprising we have a whole genre of literature by men who disrespect, objectify, reduce, and silence women. A more interesting question is, who are the women—especially the early women writers—of whom we might say the same: they aren’t really great toward men, you know, but they’re still worth reading.”

This bit got me thinking if I knew any women writers who weren’t great with men but are still worth reading. Even Margaret Atwood writes at least as many female villains as male ones. Also, would I count as one of these? The men who show up in my poems aren’t always great, although I don’t think I’m mean in general to the men in my life, i.e. brothers, husband, male friends. But maybe male enemies? I had to think about it. The self that represents us in our writing isn’t necessarily the self of our real life. Anyway, a book I wanted to discuss with people as soon as I stopped reading it.

Open Books Haul

Palm Desert Residency Part II: Poetry Energy Magic, What Makes a Great Residency? and Valentine’s Day

Selfie with pool on the last day of the residency

Palm Desert Residency Part II: Poetry Energy Magic

So, this is a continuation of last week’s post about the Desert Rat Residency, Palm Springs and Palm Desert. I’ve had a week of recovery time by now, plus Valentine’s Day, so I’m capping with a bit about what makes for a great residency.

The last few days of the residency were mostly spent working on my second book manuscript, as well as standing out by the lemon tree watching hummingbirds. We left feeling like the residency wasn’t long enough, which is a good feeling. And definitely a little bit of sunshine—albeit chilly for southern California—was good for both my and Glenn’s mood.

Some of these pictures are from a strange side trip to the Living Desert Zoo, almost walking distance from the Desert Rat Residency, which has amazing botanical gardens to walk through, is set up the mountains, and has a kid-friendly gigantic train set exhibit, but the animals are mostly older and kind of sad, because it lacks a breeding certification, so the animals are for the most part (barring rescued animals, like the juvenile fennec foxes, and meerkats, because they breed whether you want them to or not) retirees from other zoos. The animal exhibits vary in goodness, from pretty good for the animals (spacious! airy! full of natural environmental things and enrichment) to not as modern (and a little claustrophobic). It also includes a carousel for endangered species (good!), and I got to talk for a while with a retired Santa Barbara zookeeper who used to take care of this tiny California island fox, which is smaller than a house cat and climbs trees—he’s ten and still pretty spry! My favorite animal—the fennec fox—was “off exhibit,” but the talking to the retired zookeeper about California island foxes almost made up for it. Tiny tree climbing foxes that live only on certain California islands? I thought the San Juan Islands and Japan’s island of foxes were where the coolest island foxes lived, but now I’ve learned of a whole new breed of tiny, adorable foxy things!

But here’s the poetry magic part. January was a tough slog for me poetry-wise. I didn’t write much, I sent out a bunch but received a bunch of rejections, and I had some discouraging information on the life front and was kind of at-odds about how to make a living (or at least cover my own bills) as a disabled, chronically ill poet (along with recovering from a three-month long respiratory mystery illness).

But when I got back home, strange positive things began to happen. I was invited to give a tutorial (for pay)! I was solicited to send work! I got two acceptances and got asked to do a podcast. Is this because of the residency? Did some energy thing shift in the universe? I do not know. Mysterious, but I hope it continues for a while!

Valentine’s Day…

was kind of a non-event in our house, except Glenn sent me pink tulips from Skagit Valley (local flowers!) and chocolates from Fran’s Chocolates (local chocolate!) and he made a delicious duck and cherry dinner and heart-shaped cookies to share with neighbors and a few friends.

Charlotte as the Valentine’s cat

We were still so tired out from travel (and still doing laundry from travel—how was that possible?) that we made it a chill-out night, but it still felt pretty good. After all, we were home with our cute cats (see Charlotte at left) and in our own bed and after dinner we watched a romantic movie (well, a romantic thriller—Hitchcock’s Rebecca, which is really more a cautionary tale, come to think of it, than a love story, but a darn good movie).

What Makes a Great Residency?

This part might be useful to writers seeking out residencies to apply to finish a book project…or start one.

Seven must-haves for a good writer’s residency

For those of you who have applied and/or gone to a writer’s residency, you know they are not all the same. Some are better than others. Some (like Yaddo and Macdowell) have famous writer histories. Some have more natural beauty—some have better food delivery systems. A lot of them have ghosts, and ghosts are perfectly acceptable for a writer’s residency, as I outline below. The “must haves” are:

Desert Rat bedside cocktails, tea, and book station

1. A comfortable bed with extra blankets. If you’re not sleeping well, you’re probably cranky, achy, and unable to write well. Facts!
2. Either a pretty well-set-up kitchenette or food delivery that can feed even those of us with food allergies and/or intolerances. If you’re hungry, you’re not writing well, because you’ll be thinking about where to get your next food. So, not just food, but good food. Same with coffee shops and/or a coffee source.
3. Natural beauty is very high up there for me. Mountains, an ocean, a fantastic garden, as many birds as possible (ideally birds unknown to the writer). Dolphins, whales, deer, foxes and other magic animal visits are encouraged. Outdoor space—a porch, a garden, an overlook—must be available, because occasionally writers need sunlight and fresh air, even if they don’t want to change their clothes.
4. Reading material and visual art to help inspire you. Music is also useful. Maybe art materials? I often start art projects on residencies.
   

   Me with hallway art wall, Desert Rat Residency

5. A comfortable (for me, ergonomic) chair and writing desk.
6. Something unexpected—a sequin tiara, a special cocktail setup, a soaking tub, a fancy robe or a fancy pen—the little extras that surprise and delight.
7. Cleanliness, security, privacy and safety. You don’t want to worry about safety on a residency. No weird windows you can’t close, sketchy bathrooms or too many spiders, or as happened to me once, either a cicada-eating wasp or a murder hornet (Yup, welcome to the Pacific Northwest!) Ghosts are optional but acceptable in this section.

Other “haves:” for a disabled person, the ability to bring a friend or partner (which Glenn terms a “residency valet”) might be crucial. For single mothers, the ability to bring a child might be a must-have. You may have your own specific needs (for me, no stairs to climb, a walk-in shower, and the ability to make some of my own allergy-specific food come to mind), so ask lots of questions before you apply.

Seek out inspiration

Inspiration may come from unexpected places, so take a side trip (for date shakes…to a special lighthouse, an art gallery, or a coffee shop) and maybe also try to move around a bit (hunching over a notebook or computer for multiple days straight has bad results for the human spine) during the day, get that fresh air and sunlight I talked about earlier. Do something you might not usually do—if the residency has a piano or guitar, try playing it, or try photography or sketching. I find that also inspires new ideas and new ways of looking at things. Jot down notes when you’re out and about. I’m sure California island foxes are going to show up sometime in my writing!

I hope this was useful for you. The Desert Rat Residency (thanks, Jeff Walt!) met all of these needs and was quite nearly perfect for me. I’ve also really loved some other off-the-beaten track residencies I’ve done, so don’t just think about Yaddo and Macdowell— do some research near your home, or in a place you’ve always wanted to visit, for unexpected opportunities. And good writing!

Palm Springs, Palm Desert: Sun, Cocktails, Art, and a Desert Rat Residency: Part 1

Palm Springs, Palm Desert: A Residency Story, Part I

Hello Friends! While everyone was in Kansas City for AWP, I had the opportunity to escape Seattle’s February gloom for Palm Springs and Palm Desert, thanks to a residency at Desert Rat Residency in Palm Desert.

The first day we spent touristing around Palm Springs. We flew in in a storm, windy and cloudy, but still beautiful. We saw the big Marilyn statue, posed with wings, marveled at palms, had cocktails and steaks at a fancy steakhouse (first time eating out in a long while for me, but they had outdoor seating.) Palm Springs has a kitchy appeal, but also a faint seediness, reminding me of LA a bit – the neon, the bright colors next to faded tourist businesses. Great art scene and pretty good coffee shops – we stopped by Shag, an artist I’ve liked for some years, and Glenn tried the coffee, while I posed with instagrammable things around town. If I had more time in Palm Springs, I definitely would have spent more time in the art galleries – they looked fab. Next time! In the end, Palm Springs seems to be about sun, mountain hikes, pools, cocktails, sexy affairs, architecture, and art. Since I am allergic to sun and have the drinking constitution of a young child, some of the glamour was possibly lost on me, but I was interested to see it. Such a different place than Seattle – and flowers everywhere as it had just rained, a good omen, I thought. (Although I learned the plentiful bougainvillea has terrible thorns! Did you know this?) I drove off into Palm Desert for a writing residency, my first in years! Poetry Business!

Desert Rat Residency – A Dream in Palm Desert

So we drove from Palm Springs into the desert to Shield Farm, which is a huge date and grapefruit farm. Bought dates and grapefruits, plus fresh grapefruit juice and date shakes (a little too sweet for my taste, but kind of cool to try!) Then we checked into the beautiful Desert Rat Residency, started by poet Jeff Walt, in a lovely neighborhood next to fancy restaurants, great shopping, and tons of lush spas and famous golf courses – none of which we got to experience, because we were so focused on how beautiful the residency space was! A fully stocked half-fridge – a soaking tub – a pool – fully stocked bar, tons of eclectic art everywhere you look, so many books and magazines you wouldn’t be able to read them all in a week. Really a dream. Here’s me in the front yard garden. Happy to be there! It was still a little cloudy and chilly the first day there, but Glenn was game to try the pool – about four steps worth! Every morning and evening was full of birdsong. I saw hummingbirds (they have nine species in the desert!) and mockingbirds and hawks, barn swallows, finches – this was just from the front yard! And every morning I woke up and walked by the lemon trees, which have the most amazing smell – not like perfume, not like lemon – just divine. Wish I could capture it! Better than coffee as a wake up perk.

Then, Down To Poetry Business…and Hummingbirds

So after we unpacked and figured out what switches did what and put things in the giant closet, it was down to business. The first day, I wrote a new poem, I sent out a submission, and worked on the first two sections of my next book, reorganizing and editing. (Writing and editing a book is really such a work of time – it takes dedicated time and attention, hard to find at home.) About two in the morning, I fell asleep. While I was working, Glenn made a tour of all the grocery stores in a five mile radius, was sad he could find neither a cheese grater nor ginger syrup, but ultimately we were totally fine and did not need that much food. California sunshine and lots of exercise (even for this MS-haver who had to use a wheelchair occasionally) helped me shed a few pounds as I was always thirsty but never hungry the whole time. (Oh yes – pack extra lip balm! Dry air and flying are hard on the lips! I packed a ton of sunscreen too, and can happily say I am not going home with a sunburn, which is a bit of a miracle.

I didn’t turn on the (smart) television and didn’t miss it. I played music instead. I did go to the local Barnes and Nobles to get some bird identification cards to leave at the residency, in case bird nerds such as I use the residency too. I also put up a hummingbird feeder, which immediately attracted hummers! Listen, hummingbirds, like foxes, are part of the necessary work of this writer. I can’t identify all these hummers – can you?

To be continued…in Part 2 of Palm Springs, Palm Desert, and a Desert Rat Residency, the Living Desert, and What Makes a Perfect Residency

Self-Care for Writers, and the Anxiety of Turning Fifty—a New Poem in Rogue Agent, and Anxiety and Its Antidotes

A Mollusk Without a Shell with Charlotte

Self-Care for Writers

This anthology, A Mollusk Without a Shell: Essays on Self-Care for Writers, from University of Akron Press came out at a great time, no? I’m so proud and happy to have an essay in the collection, along with many friends like Kelli Russell Agodon, Charles Jensen, Lee Ann Roripaugh, and many others. (Thanks to Mary Biddinger and Julie Brooks Barbour.) Topics range from the distractions of social media and AWP hazing to dealing with issues like cancer and death of a family member. And with AWP, Valentine’s Day, the Superbowl, and Lunar New Year all happening in the same week, what do writers need more than a reminder about self-care? Charlotte (above) poses with a copy of the new book.

A lot of the anthology contributors are Gen X, who might have some unique knowledge about self-care, having been brought up as latch-key kids, the forgotten generation, the first generation to do financially less well than their parents, the sandwich generation (taking care of children and aging parents at the same time these days), and raised on teen apocalypse literature before it was cool. As a kid as young as 10, I was up before daybreak, walked a mile along a highway to the junior high to take a transfer bus to my school with my little brother, made my own breakfast and lunch and sometimes dinner, and then spent two hours after school at various activities (often finding my own ride home among friends and other people’s parents). I went to unchaperoned parties where yes, sex and drinking and drugs existed. I ran away from policemen (once with a friend on crutches), sketchy characters on motorcycles (after an ill-advised TP-ing sleepover activity), and a crotchety parent (of a house party he was not aware he was hosting, thanks to his son) with a shotgun. I was told I wouldn’t be able to have children when I was 19. On the cusp of a long weekend away, a doctor told me a year later, “You either have AIDs, lupus, or cancer, have a good weekend!” Since that cheery experience, I’ve been diagnosed with multiple life-threatening illness. Are these good qualifications for someone to give advice about self-care? You be the judge!

A New Poem in the Latest Issue of Rogue Agent

I’m also happy to say I have a poem in the latest issue of Rogue Agent, about the anxiety of turning 50. (Which seems like it was just yesterday, but how is it almost a whole year ago?)

Here’s a link to the poem and issue online: Jeannine Hall Gailey—Rogue Agent (rogueagentjournal.com)
This is a sneak peek:

Anxiety and Its Antidotes

Have you been feeling anxious? I’ve been having anxiety dreams almost every night, and (probably related) trouble sleeping at all, staying up ’til 4 AM. I haven’t been writing as much poetry as I’d like—too busy doing paperwork and web forms—and I’m going to be going to a residency that requires a plane flight, something I haven’t done since way before the pandemic. I’m worried about the state of the world, the state of America. I worry about my family members and friends. I worry about the pandemic, the fact that it’s not over, and we still don’t have that many good treatments for it. I worry about God and justice, my place in the world, if I’m doing the right things with my life. The poem above is all about anxiety, and I admit, many of them haven’t changed. I just did my part of the taxes, and that never leaves me feeling good about my choices in life (see: not making enough money to cover your student loans, that old saw, another thing we X-ers pioneered). My computer’s been constantly crashing, which means a switch to a new one will be coming soon. Another doctor retired, so I’ll have to train another specialist replacement. Are all of these things equally important? No, they are not.

So, what are your good antidotes for anxiety? Reading a relaxing book (murder mysteries are usually my go-to relaxation type of book). I’ve been listening to music at night before I go to bed. I also tried watching old movies, mostly comedies. I’m trying to get outside during our brief moments of sunshine and get outside when I can. I spend time with my two cuddly cats. I’m trying to eat healthy (for me, more protein, and more iron and B12, less sugar) and get back to my regular pre-winter-illness levels of physical activity, which cliché or no, does help, I know. Spending time with sunrises and sunsets. I’m looking forward to spring, to being able to be out in my garden a bit more, going to farmer’s markets again, at least. I’m hoping this level of anxiety won’t last another month, another year. Wishing you an anxiety-free day, week, month, year.

Celebrating with Writers, New Hair, Vision Boards and Book Promotion, and Getting Back to “Normal” (?)

Celebrating with Writer Friends

This week I got together with Kelli Russell Agodon to celebrate her birthday (a bit late.) We talked new year’s writing goals, our next books, and of course there was sparkling rose and cupcakes (and a real brunch made by Glenn, not just junk food, I swear!) It was great to get back to socializing with Kelli and her husband Rose and feel like a real human again. I even went and got my hair done this week—something I hadn’t been well enough to do for a while!

Kelli took this fantastic shot of Sylvia (hiding in the linens as usual when we have visitors) and Flare, Corona on my pink typewriter. I do feel that I’ve been a bit lax in promoting my book lately, with the holidays and the long illness, so I’m going to try to schedule some promotion. It’s been nine months—believe it or not—since Flare, Corona came out. AWP is just around the corner, although I won’t be going this year but maybe next time in LA? Part of me wishes I was going, part of me is relieved that I can just have some down time.

Vision Boards and Getting Back to Normal(ish)

New hair—a little lighter and brighter

What does it mean, anyway, for a writer to “get back to normal?” Well, I’ve been writing new work, editing my next book, submitting, and finally getting to my vision board for 2024 (clearly, I’m winning no awards for my collage making, but hey, I was sick!) The headlines for 2024 haven’t exactly been the stuff of cheer and light—this year of the dragon has already been called, for instance, the fourth year of the pandemic, the year of the solar eclipse (again, which makes me book cover super relevant lol), the year of the cicada (two different swarms coming out at the same time for the first time in 200 years!) or, of course, the election year, which brings up different emotions for me that run from anxiety to disappointment…and two wars.

So, I’ve decided to brand my 2024 as the year of “restoration” after last year’s flurry of book launch events, AWP, a milestone birthday, big family visits, and generally being busy. Good busy, but not a sustainable busy. So I’m going on my first residency in a while next month, where I hope to work seriously on my next book, but also enjoy a change of scenery (the desert!) and just have some down time to think and devote some time to my health—physical therapy and catching up on my required tests, among other things. With MS, you don’t really know when the next “flare” happens, or when a remission goes kaput.

The thing is, despite the headlines, and the vision board, we can’t really know what the year ahead lies. We can hope and wish for good things—for better health, for book awards, for health for our families and our friends, for a better America, for a better future for us all. And I do!

Hope, manifesting, positive thinking—it seems time for a dose of something strong. Something that we can look forward to. I am wishing us all a magic we can’t imagine, a seed of something good planted at the right time. The fairy tale we live in seems to be mired down in the dark forest right now, the struggle, the part of the journey where we lose our shoes and have to walk in the snow and survive off the nuts and berries the birds bring us. The part where we’re abandoned, no fairy godmother in sight. But let us look to the light, to the mysterious and strange part of the story that gives us survival against the odds, that gives us the strength to stand up, to not give up.