A Good Day Followed by a Terrible Week, MS Awareness and Women’s Awareness Month, and Writers, Disability, and Money: Some Thoughts

Me, on a good day in Kirkland

A Good Day (Followed by a Terrible Week)

This is a picture of me on Tuesday of this last week. So happy to be out in the sunshine (despite the 45°F temperature) enjoying the early flowers, some deer crossing in front of her on her street, walking along Lake Washington. So terribly unaware of the how the rest of the week would go. The bobcat, the predator, appeared last week. This week, the prey, the deer, appear on my street. So which am I to believe, the predator or the prey?

After this, I had dental work, which was supposed to be a crown and a couple of fillings, but ended up being two crowns and a filling, which cost me a thousand dollars more than expected (surprise!) but also, my husband came back during the work and I was in so much pain and so lucid that he asked for more sedation, which meant it took me two full days to get un-sedated. But my jaw still hurt, one of the crowns was too long (and I was unable to get back in to get it fixed—still!) and basically, it made my MS symptoms flare up and took me out for three days which were going to be very busy with work and taxes. Very fitting for MS Awareness month. Hello, MS! I remember you.

Then, I got an estimate. I had mentioned I was doing a remodel for an ADA bathroom in my house. I told the group at the beginning what the total cost was we could afford. Alas, after we’d sunk $20K into materials, they sent a work estimate that was twice what we could afford. Then I started stressing out about my choice to be a poet which pays no money (see my taxes for proof,) being disabled (which I can’t help) but forces you to do expensive things to a house to be more independent, about trusting the people the way I did to get the project done in the budget we’d agreed on (ha ha, niave woman!) On top of getting the too-expensive and super painful dental work, I was suddenly counting up things I could sell (old jewelry? clothing? books? not enough) and scrambling for any kind of money in the works – from poetry royalties (which publishers can conveniently forget sometimes) to freelance work even knowing I’m already overcommitted for March and April as it is. People with MS have a certain amount of energy, and after that, sadly, we are out and we have to rest and recover. Dental work has always been a major trigger for my MS (in fact, what caused the first flare), so I should have known this week would be tough. Then I cancelled cable services, housekeeping services, sold some clothing, and cancelled some magazine subscriptions. None of this, sadly, makes much of a difference financially. None of this is the end of the world, but it was very stressful. It did make me think about money, being a poet, and being disabled…

AND SO…

Plum blossoms, blue sky

On Writers, Disability, and Money (and Possibly Gender Pay Disparity?)

(Warning: Frank talk about money. If that makes you uncomfortable…flee!)

I started thinking seriously about the writing world and how little it values writers, especially poets. Back when I was healthy and could keep up with the stressful atmosphere, the sex discrimination, and the terrible hours, I was a tech writer, and I was good at it—I got promoted and promoted and ended up with a pretty good job at a pretty good salary. Unfortunately, I had spent all my spoons (see: spoonies) getting there, and almost immediately was hospitalized and almost died from health things that were undiagnosed (who has the time when you’re working 80, 90 hours a week) or neglected (again, when you’re in a time crunch, there goes your self-care). I ended up quitting technical writing and becoming a full-time poet, with some side things like essays, book reviews, and occasional journalistic writing that paid something. That was 23 years ago now. I am now pretty disabled, and all my health stuff is expensive. I just can’t do some of the things, energy wise, I was happy to do when I was younger—like volunteering 20 hours a week at lit mags and creative organizations, for example. I can’t make it to as many readings, or travel for book promotion like I used to. MS—which I probably had for over ten years and have been diagnosed with for seven—has made energy conservation a serious matter. If you do something one day, you have to rest the next. And if you don’t, your body WILL come for you. MS is not unique in this way. CFS, long Covid, lupus, and cancer all affect energy levels AND finances.

So if you’re a writer and you’re disabled, what are your choices? Well, I can tell you from experience, even if you paid into disability for years—and I did—it is very hard to qualify for government disability payback (which is different than disability social security?)—it is just paying you what you paid into the system for this occasion. Plus, they limit you to $1100 a month in pay or they kick you off and you have to reapply. It takes an average of six years—and a lawyer—to get any kind of real disability money, the kind you could sort of live on. So, instead, you choose freelancing, gig work, OnlyFans—whatever you can do to pay the bills. Maybe you have wealthy parents (I don’t) or a wealthy husband (again no)—I do have a husband whose health insurance at a big tech company helps keep me alive, but we pay out of the nose for it. We both have student loan debt. Specialists are expensive. MRIs are expensive. All the meds I’m on—you guessed it—very expensive. (Most MS drugs cost 3-5K a month.)

Writers right now are getting squeezed. Universities are shuttering whole English departments, not just literary magazines which are also falling by the wayside. That means more writers, with less ways to make a living. (Adjunct teaching, by the way—which I did for four years at an MFA program—pays worse than minimum wage and requires a ton of time and energy.) Publishing—which used to a respectable business you could do to earn a living—has been consolidated so much that making a decent wage there is nearly impossible, and certainly not if you’re not in-person working, young, attractive, energetic and in a big city like New York City. I have noticed there are fewer places that pay for book reviews. Many newspapers are folding. My little brother tells me “Print is dead! You’re working with extinct ideas!” That may be. I’m also a little older—wiser, too, maybe but not wise enough to figure out a way to support myself. My brother encourages me to put ads on my web site, but I don’t want to do that. Yet.

Cherry blossoms, blue sky

Anyway, I come upon some hard facts: do I try to get paid for poetry, or do I try to do something else completely? If you are disabled, your choices for work are fewer and farther between. As much as I hustle, my books aren’t selling as well as they used to. (Buy a signed copy of my books from me to support a disabled poet! Or have your library request the e-book or print book of Flare, Corona.)

I am doing tutorials and college visits and virtual readings. Should I be turning down unpaid work at this point (like the con that pays you in free attendance)? Should I only be sending to journals that pay that don’t have submission fees (and how many of them are there?) So many questions. Where should I direct my limited energy in the short—and long—run? Are the rewards worth the effort? I’m questioning a lot of my decisions, and that’s okay. Tax time by itself usually brings up a panic attack about how much I’m NOT making, and this year with the unexpected immediate expense just throws that into greater relief. It’s not any of the things that happened this week individually, but the accumulation of them. I try to look on the bright side of things most of the time. Maybe it’s a sign from the universe that I need to change, but how and what I have no idea. It’s a new moon tonight. I was happy that Miyazaki won an Oscar but sad Lily Gladstone did not. I felt so positive about things last month, that maybe things were moving in a good direction. Maybe I’ve let the dental pain and financial stuff overwhelm me. The time change never helps, either. Anyway, signing off, and hoping for a better week ahead.

New Podcast on BeautyHunters, Bobcat Visits, and March Comes in Like a Jerk

Plum Blossoms in March

March Begins and a New Podcast: Q&A with Me and Tatyana Mishel Sussex on BeautyHunters

March has come in, not like a lamb or a lion, but like a jerk, bringing hail, sideways snow, heavy rain, sunshine and all in two days’ time.  The flowers continue to bloom through it all, and a bobcat comes to visit. Meanwhile, I’m reading a ton, trying to do some submissions this month, and getting ready for a ton of readings and talks later on in March and April.

From Tatyana’s substack:

What do you do when you’re told you have six months to live? Poet, author, and lover-of-life Jeannine Hall Gailey went immediately to a giant writer’s conference, bought a house, took up photography, and reminded herself of all the beauty around her.

“You have to give your body a reason to live,” Jeannine says.

And through all the years of doctors appointments and emergency room visits, pain and low-energy, Jeannine continued to be fully in life: writing and submitting poems, finishing and publishing books, beelining her way to parks when the sun shone, the leaves turned gold, the blossoms pinkened, seeing friends, starting book clubs.
In my view, Jeannine shows us what we’re capable of, even if we don’t feel we are—in the way we all show each other what we’re made of, and what’s possible beyond the limitations of our thinking.
Grab a cup of coffee or tea, take us for a walk—treat yourself to the gusto and all-in-ness Jeannine possesses, along with some fun, creative and wise views about all kinds of things.”

On how I faced a terminal cancer diagnosis, why I write, what I think about immigration, how I find beauty in the world, and an hour of all kinds of fun things. At the end of the interview you can hear a terrible noise which is my small cat trying to escape the bedroom because she really wanted to be part of the interview by jumping up on the laptop.

Bobcat Visits and March/April Mayhem

Jonquil in my garden

Below is a little Ring video of our bobcat visit. But in life news, I have several things lined up in the next two months, including a visit to NorWesCon, participating in a speculative writing panel for Cascadia Writers, a virtual college visit, and a Zoom reading for the Olympia Poetry Network. It seems April is almost here, bringing its National Poetry Month busyness, and hopefully some sunshine and warmer spring weather.

I’ve been trying to come out of my plague-years hibernation—doing AWP, my book launch, and visits with family last year. my first travel in seven years last month, and so, I’m trying to get out there in the world a bit more. I’m currently also working on my next book, sending out poems, doing serious edits (as opposed to those lighthearted edits of the last several years). But like the Northwest’s weather in March so far, it’s been a bit of a stop and start, with my energy and health being good for a while, and then having to rest and recover. Here’s looking forward to the warmth of true spring, better weather, and the opportunity to get out and enjoy it!

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