Fall is Here, Sign Up for a Spooky Season Zoom Class with me and Kelli Russell Agodon, Zoo Visits and More

Fall is Here!

No matter that we’re a few days early for the official start of fall, the cold temperatures and rain don’t lie—and neither do the farm stands, with squash and apples showing up along with the last peaches and corn. I love fall, although this one is pretty busy—I’ve been tied up with dental stuff for two weeks now, first a dentist broke my tooth at a cleaning, then back to patch it, then to an endodontist who said I needed a root canal but he refuses to do it because I can’t take Novocain (allergy)—I mean, exhausting—and that’s outside of all the specialists and scans and infusions on the calendar. I have to make sure to take some to focus on the good things—a quick stop at the Woodland Park Zoo to see snow leopard cubs (hiding during my visit) and our red panda, a visit to Bob’s Corn and Pumpkin Farm. And squeezing in time to write and try to submit and work on my next book (and work a little harder at promoting Flare, Corona!)

September is also rejection season AND submitting season—a double hitter that can be hard on the writer’s ego, and of course I’m waiting to hear about the results of the Washington State Book Award after Flare, Corona was named a finalist. And later this week I’m doing a recording for Writer’s Digest this week and putting together a Zoom class with my friend Kelli. (More about that later in this post!)

Kelli and I with sunflowers

Sign Up for a “Spooky Season” Zoom Class with me and Kelli Russell Agodon

Just in time for Spooky Season AND Sylvia Plath’s birthday, Kelli and I are hosting a Zoom class on October 27, 2024, called:

The Thinning Veil: Writing Poems About Where the Natural and Supernatural Worlds Meet

Spend Sylvia Plath’s birthday writing new poems! Just in time for Spooky Season, a poetry class exploring how the natural world intersects with the supernatural with poets Kelli Russell Agodon and Jeannine Hall Gailey. Kelli and Jeannine will discuss their fascination with the natural and supernatural worlds, sharing poems by Plath and others that blur the lines between the familiar and the unknown. Together, we’ll harness this energy in our own writing, drawing inspiration from the unknown and the uncanny. This two-hour Zoom class will end with a Q&A for a deeper dive into this hauntingly beautiful topic. Join us to to stir your imagination and leave with fresh drafts of new poems!

Cost: $119 Scholarships and tuition assistance available.

Register Now!
I think it’ll be a lot of fun! I will wear my witch sweater.

Zoo Visits

Carson the Red Panda

Woodland Park Zoo is under a lot of construction (including building a new habitat for our red panda!), but it had three brand new snow leopard cubs, and it was the last day of the Butterfly House being open, so we snuck in a quick visit. The snow leopard cubs were hiding while we were there, but we got to visit with their beautiful mother.

Going to the zoo is one of the summer rituals I didn’t want to skip, even though the weather is getting cooler, and the timing was hard. It’s important to squeeze in the things that matter to us—even if it’s just watching butterflies—in between paying bills, doctor appointments, work, and the busy work that is too big a part of our lives. To be a writer is sometimes to prioritize the butterfly watching.

Flare, Corona is a Washington State Book Award Finalist! And Art Gallery Openings, Visiting with Friends and Family

Infographic of Flare, Corona by Jeannine Hall Gailey as a Washington State Book Award finalist

Flare, Corona is a Washington State Book Award Finalist

I can finally share my good news—Flare, Corona is a 2024 Washington State Book Award Finalist! I’m very grateful for the honor and am happy to be in very good company, including my friend Rena Priest. You can cross your fingers for me—I’ll find out by the end of the month if I’ve won or not.

Washington State Book Award 2004 finalist infographic by Open Books and SAL

We poets go a long time between pieces of good news, luck, recognition, awards. So, something like this can feel like a big deal and we try to celebrate it as best we can (in between rejections, LOL). Does this mean more people might buy or read the book? The answer is really only maybe. But we can hope! And I might get a sticker for my book, which is always nice. And thank you to all the people who wrote me nice notes of congratulations. It really does mean a lot.

(SAL and Open Books did an announcement on Instagram that had a cute graphic I thought I’d share!)

Dewi Plass’ “Instinct”

Art Gallery Opening at Roq La Rue

Saturday night we went to the opening show for Dewi Plass and Hallie Packard at Roq La Rue, my favorite Seattle art gallery. My little brother and sister-in-law were also in attendance, and we had a great time catching up with them. Plus, we talked to the artists and Kerstin, the gallery owner. A gorgeous show (it’s up ’til Sept 28th if you want to see it!) And I purchased a great book of sci-fi and steampunk art. (Roq La Rue has some terrific and hard-to-find art books, if you’re into that sort of thing.)

It made me think about how art inspires me and how making friends with artists is always so rewarding. It’s good to give your life a little space for music, visual art, theater, anything that makes you feel more creative. Visual art has a way of making you see the world a little differently.

Visiting with Family and Friends

Sunday, I visited with my writer friend Kelli Russell Agodon and her family, which was wonderful. I don’t get to see my writer friends often enough, especially this year, it seems. We got to catch up and celebrate good news, commiserate, enjoy brunch. One of the things about the pandemic is how much many of us got used to not socializing, even with family and close friends. Even now, Glenn and I probably go and about less than we used to. But there’s such a benefit to getting together with actual humans.

Kelli and I talked about doing a possible Zoom class together soon, so stay tuned for details on that!

September Begins: Changing Seasons and Life Assessments, Reunions with Old Friends, and Back to Work

September Sunflowers

September Begins: Changing Seasons and Life Assessments

It’s the first day of September, which brings with it a lot of changes. A lot of us start to think about work after more leisurely summer days. Our local lavender farm closed yesterday, getting ready to shift to become a pumpkin farm at the end of the month. The weather today was bright and 85°F, unseasonably warm, but the days are noticeably shorter than they were a month ago. The gardens—my own and others around town—are in their last bright, ragged days, rampant and moving towards the end of their flowering. I admit to a fondness for September over August, usually a time of looking forward, to holidays, to a new year, a time of hope?

Waxwing in flight

A Facebook “memory” brought up something that caused me to do a brief life assessment—it was a blog post from about six years ago, when I was 45. The post was angry, frustrated, obviously a person who was struggling with many things in her life. Now six years later, I wonder why I was so angry. Of course, I had had a terminal liver cancer diagnosis the year before, and then an MS diagnosis—two things so devastating, and complicated by the fact that I have friends that still to this day have not called me since those two events (losing friends is tough, but I guess those weren’t real friends, as my mother would have said to me in eighth grade). The terminal diagnosis was wrong, at least a little premature, though I still have a liver full of tumors, and the MS diagnosis was wrenching, though years of physical, vestibular, speech therapies have helped a lot of the symptoms. I was frustrated by what I felt like was a stagnant writing career, full of frustrated ambition. (It could also have been the beginning of perimenopause, often punctuated by mood swings.) One good thing about blogs is that they capture a certain moment in time, in your life. Was I feeling lucky that we weren’t in the middle of a pandemic, that I could go to the movies or dentist relatively freely? No, I was not. Ah, hindsight.

Hello deer neighbor!

At 51, I wish I could tell my previous self about what was to come: the pandemic and all it would change, the fact that I would make new friends (and renew old friendships unexpectedly), that my marriage would improve, that my writing career might not be rocketing towards stardom but feels like enough to me these days. (I did have a book come out to some success, some good reviews, appearances in Poetry Magazine and Poetry Daily that bolstered my confidence, among other things. But also, a shift in mindset about what constitutes “enough” success?) That I would build connections to my community (and a pretty decent garden) during the covid years. That though things aren’t perfect, I no long feel as frustrated in my daily life. My health isn’t perfect, but my dental hygienist commented on how much better I was doing physically than five years ago, which caused me to wonder—what is she noticing that I haven’t about improvements in my overall well-being? I’m no longer in a wheelchair all the time, many of my MS symptoms are less acute, I’ve been getting treatment for more of my weirdo stuff. I lost weight during the last four years and increased my bone density, not usual at 51! I feel grateful for these positive changes, though sometimes they’re so gradual you might not remark on them.

Dr. Kathy McCue and me

Reunions with Old Friends, and Back to Work

I got to see an old friend (my best friend from fifth grade!) who is an ER doc living in Alaska doing all kinds of amazing charity work, and we caught up over brunch with our partners. It’s so funny, because I know we are both older intellectually, but I still see her as the tall, red-haired girl in fifth grade, a little awkward, just as I was at that age. It’s kind of like going to a high school reunion and goes along with my theme of life assessments—when you see old friends who knew you when you were a kid, you also remember the paths you’ve both taken—and the ones you didn’t take. Like many of my friends from Tennessee and Cincinnati, we didn’t ever stay where we were put, and I like to think we’ve achieved some of the ambitions we had as our younger selves.

September also reminds us to get back to our regular routines and, yes, that involves maybe more attention to details, accounts, work. I have a tutorial to do and I’m trying to write new poems, work on a manuscript for my publisher, manage my social media (I got spoofed on Insta and Facebook this week, which was no fun), and send work to the lit mags that re-open on September 1 or thereabouts.

While summer is a good time to reflect and remember, fall is a good time to refocus and try to put energy into the things that are important to you. Sign up for that dental cleaning, put on a face mask, donate some old clothing or clean out the pantry, read that book you’ve been putting off, because it’s September! It may not be sweater weather yet, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get out my notebooks and sharpen my (metaphorical) pencils, so I’m ready.

August Rain, the Last Days of Lavender and Bobcats, Considering the Female Midlife Crisis Novel, and When You Know a Manuscript is Ready

Sunflowers and Blue Skies

August Rain and the Last Days of Lavender and Bobcats

It’s been a rainy, cold week that reminds us again fall is on its way. For the pictures today, they were mostly taken on the one sunny day we had! But I liked the return of the rain, and so did my garden, mostly (I lost a couple of dahlias that snapped under the weight of the rain). We did have a brief visit from an adult bobcat, and I snapped a couple of shots of hummingbirds and goldfinches, but the birds are getting ready to molt and/or migrate. Fall/winter/spring here in the Pacific Northwest all bring out different wildlife and beauty, but it’s hard to not be a little sad about the flowers winding down and the swallows and Rufous hummingbirds leaving.

The Lavender Garden down the street is closing for the year on the last day of August, so we’ve been trying to get out when it’s nice to enjoy the last week of sunflowers, dahlias, and lavender. A pumpkin farm in roughly the same location will open up in about a month, so can’t wait for that. We also stopped by a local winery—but here’s a funny thing—three places we tried to go today were “closed for private events,” including the Seattle Zoo. Sometimes having a lot of millionaires (and 15 billionaires) in your town is kind of a bummer, because if you’re not in the 1 percent, everything is closed to you. I can’t afford to buy out a zoo or a winery on the only sunny day of the week at the end of summer! And there are three new snow leopard cubs I’m dying to see. (And if I was disappointed, imagine all the children parents brought to the zoo today only to find “closed for private event” at the door. They also closed down the main bridge out of the East side over the water for construction (which they’ve been doing since, oh, no exaggeration, 2008.) So we stayed around Woodinville. Sometimes the universe says “stay where you are!” LOL. Anyway, we did walk around and enjoy the sunshine, even if we couldn’t leave the area, so can’t really complain, can I?

I’ve been trying to get back to a regular sleep schedule (who knew sleep at night could be this elusive?), but I’ve been spending my nighttime awake hours reading. I’m still a little under the weather too, so spending time under the covers while it’s raining outside is okay. At the same time, I’ve been struggling with problems with my web site, for unknown reasons. I wish I could reboot my body to fix things as easily as easily as rebooting a server. Anyway, this is the bobcat visit below.

Considering the Female Midlife Crisis Novel

When I wake up from a nap…Charlotte

Speaking of bodily reboots, I’m thinking about the female midlife crisis novel/memoir/autofiction, which seems to be everywhere right now. Maybe there’s also something in the air with the Republican animosity towards “childless cat women” and “women’s bodily autonomy” but it’s sort of a counterpoint to decades (and centuries) of men’s midlife crisis books, too. Miranda July’s All Fours is all the critics are talking about, and they’re like “a novel about perimenopause for the first time ever!” which is definitely not true, because you could consider some of Virginia Woolf and Doris Lessing’s books that dealt with similar subject matter, and I know Lesley Wheeler wrote a fascinating book about the subject that didn’t get enough attention called Unbecoming that came out about year or so ago. (Totally worth reading and much more fun than some of the other books I’ve read!) Also read Liars by Sarah Manguso, which belongs in the same category and came out recently, but I could also include Maggie Smith’s You Could Make This Place Beautiful and Sabrina Orah Mark’s fairy-tale autofiction/memoir book Happily. I mean, not all of these books are exactly the same, but they circle around some of the same subject matter – women at midlife reconsidering being a wife and/or mother, dealing with lack of fulfillment in their work and home lives, reckoning with their achievements, illnesses, choices, etc. All Fours and Liars both talk way more about masturbation and sex and other bodily functions, maybe (but probably not more than Doris Lessing?) but this has been something that’s been a palpable movement in the world of memoir and literary fiction. A LOT of these books seem somewhat depressing to me—the subject matter especially of terrible husbands who cheat, then leave, but it turns out they were always terrible—not empowering, which is what I guess I would like to see instead? But hey, these things take time. The critics are right that this kind of novel is sort of…novel in the world of midlife crisis memoirs and novels. But can a woman’s midlife and perimenopause/menopause be an empowering time? I hope the answer is not NO, as I am still in perimenopause and wondering if the sleep disruptions are part of it, or any time I feel grumpy, frumpy, or disenchanted. Anyway, chime in with empowering female midlife crisis readings suggestions in the comments if you want.

How to Know if a Manuscript is Ready

Using these rainy, sleepless nights to catch up on work—making a tutorial, judging a poetry contest—and working on my seventh book manuscript, which I thought was done two years ago but then I added a lot more to it, and now I’m looking at an unwieldy hundred-page monster that I need to edit down and somehow make into a unified thing. Knowing when and if a poetry manuscript is ready is an art, not a science—sometimes they’ll need a tweak, like a title change and a shifting of first poem—and sometimes they’ll need an overhaul, which is what I’m doing right now—before they’re ready to send to a publisher, and it’s difficult sometimes to make that judgement. Especially when one is sleep deprived and half-sick. I usually write a good solid collection of poems around a single theme, but because the covid-19 pandemic happened in middle of writing these poems, it’s been tough to reign it in. Anyway, I hope to have it in somewhat finished form by October. That’s my goal, anyway.

Blue Supermoons, Thunderstorm, a Little Good News I Can’t Announce Yet and Other Literary News, Kirkland and Sunflower Sunsets

Me in sunflowers, Woodinville sunset

Blue Supermoons, Thunderstorms, Kirkland and Sunflower Sunsets

Right now outside my window is August’s Blue Supermoon. A few days ago we had the biggest thunderstorm since 2019, a sign of the fall’s approach and the increasingly changing weather in the Pacific Northwest. Glenn and I tried to take advantage of lower temperatures by walking at sunset, one night in Kirkland, another night at our local JB Grower’s Lavender Farm, where the moon rose while listening to Jimmy Page and Alison Krauss at the concert next door. The light in the August evening  makes everything more beautiful. Waking up at 3 or 4 AM I am able to garden a bit in the morning. The roses and hydrangeas in my garden are taller than I am, there are figs on my fig tree and apples on my apple tree, plus strawberry plants still providing strawberries. After the storm we brought in wet dahlias and hydrangeas in big vases. Already thinking about what to plant for next year.

I am finally getting some mental energy back, as well as sleeping short stretches – 3-4 hours – at night again. Not firing on all cylinders yet, but getting better, I think. And I got some surprise good news this week. Here are a few sunset pictures from Kirkland and Woodinville.

A Little Good News I Can’t Announce Yet, Plus Birds and Literary Stuff

So this week I got a little good news (which I can’t announce yet, but will soon!) I have to say, it’s amazing how these things can make so much difference to a poetry small press author. Very few of us get any real reach, the big prizes, any real recognition, so when you get good news, we better celebrate, right?

In other literary news, Calyx put up their poetry contest winners (I judged that contest) and I’m getting ready to read for another literary magazine’s contest. It’s nice to contribute in this way, especially because a big contest win early in my writing career meant so much to me. (You never know when someone needs that little push to stay a writer!)

I hope that as September approaches I will be doing more reading, writing, submitting, catching up on writer things. In the meantime though, some pink roses, a house finch, the blue Supermoon, and hummingbird. Wishing you stars and supermoons and poems.

Jeannine Hall Gailey

Jeannine Hall Gailey
Jeannine Hall Gailey is a writer with MS who served as the second Poet Laureate of Redmond, Washington and is the author of Becoming the Villainess, She Returns to the Floating World, Unexplained Fevers, The Robot Scientist’s Daughter, winner of the Moon City Press Book Prize, Field Guide to the End of the World, and the upcoming Flare, Corona from BOA Editions. Her work has been featured on NPR’s The Writer’s Almanac, Verse Daily and The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror. Her poems have appeared in The American Poetry Review, Poetry, and Ploughshares.

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