Two Week Post: a Bunch of Small Disasters, June-uary in Seattle, Hoping for Inspiration, Poem in The Shore, Plus Roses, Typewriters, and Cats

me with summer hair and pink and yellow peonies

A Two-Week Post: Bunch of Small Disasters, June-uary in Seattle

Sorry to miss you last week! Our home has been a source of small disasters and I had a lot of mostly bad on my plate: Glenn’s parents in the hospital last week after a dual fall, I broke a tooth and had to wait a week to get it repaired (oh, and did I mention, it ended up being four broken teeth? My jaw doesn’t know its own strength), I’ve been sick with a never-ending upper respiratory infection and got some troubling news from the immunologist after a ton of blood work, and the weather has truly been more like February than June, with temps in the fifties, thunderstorms, rain.

On top of this, my Apple watch—a gift from my husband that’s truly a safety measure (it does alert Glenn if I fall, for instance—and Glenn was actually contacted about his father’s fall this last week too)—dropped dead, as did my replacement computer (purchased just six months ago) to replace my randomly-restarting old computer, just before I have to do a recorded tutorial and leave town, because of course all the tech drops dead when you’re sick, stressed, and need it desperately.

When you feel like the chickadee, not the goldfinch

Besides this, I’ve been feeling disappointed and disillusioned with PoetryWorld in general. I haven’t been writing or submitting much. It feels like a stacked deck that after 30 years I’ve never truly cracked. My last book, Flare, Corona, which I had high hopes for (and hired a publicist for), just didn’t get much in the way of attention, reviews, prizes – and this after 25 years of doing poetry book reviews for others, which makes me feel a little…bitter? (Lesley Wheeler, who certainly deserves acclaim for her fiction, non-fiction and poetry, all of which she writes terrifically, says something similar, with less bitterness and more grace, on her blog this week.)  There have been scandals in the lit mag world, closings of MFA programs and journals, and people on social media lamenting this way and that, plus rage and accusation at different literary organizations for various sins that I don’t even know much about. It seems like a toxic stew out there of anger, grief, disappointment. And that’s just the poetry world—I’ve turned off the news in the last two weeks—I’m usually a Seattle Times, BBC news regular—as my stress level can’t handle more bad news, though I’m sure it’s out there.

I need to figure out my inspiration again, why I write what I do, the things that bring me joy about it. Right now, I can’t really remember, or worse, feel stupid for once loving it. I should have known it was a closed system 25 years ago. Or that’s what my bitter cynical side tells me. I try to ignore that voice.

A Poem in The Shore

But that doesn’t mean I’ve given up completely! I’m still publishing and working on my next book. Here’s proof—a Cassandra poem from a series I’m working on for the next book that was recently published at The Shore. 

Here’s a snippet graphic, plus a link to read the whole poem at The Shore:

Jeannine Hall Gailey “Cassandra Explains the Secrets of Survival, Plague Edition” — THE SHORE (theshorepoetry.org)

Roses, Typewriters, and Cats

I’ve been trying to get out whenever we get a sunbreak, because the flowers are still blooming like its June, even if it doesn’t really feel like it.

So here are some roses from around Woodinville:

And though it was raining, there was a flower and art cart outside of my hair place in Kirkland, which seemed like magic and Paris and all things cool and charming, and I got some gorgeous (and wonderful smelling) pink and yellow peonies, which made me feel like taking some pictures of typewriter and peonies, and my cats Sylvia and Charlotte decided to get into the game too. Well, they are named after literary characters, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised! Now these ladies are true stars! I hope this cheers you up as much as it does me.

The next time I post I will have been away at a writer’s retreat, hopefully feeling better health-wise and writing-inspiration-wise.

Oh, and the weird health news—I already knew I had a primary immune deficiency I was born with, but on top of that, they found a proliferation of B cells and lymphocytes, the B cells weren’t acting normally, and some of the news could indicate a kind of cancer. But the immunologist is leaning towards this diagnosis, which is very similar to what the singer Halsey was just diagnosed with, but with B cells instead of T cells. (But I have MS and not lupus on top of it.) I’m not totally out of the woods in terms of scariness, and it’s always stressful to find out new and exciting things are wrong with you (and lead to, for instance, not being able to fight off infections very well). But then again, new information can help you find new ways to treat your problems? I hope?

Here’s hoping that a little time away in the wilderness—where power and internet are not a given—will give me some much-needed perspective and a chance to spark new ideas and a new mindset. I truly am an optimistic person, so maybe this trip will reset me. Like my darn computer. (I wish I had a warrantee—I wish to speak to the manufacturer, please?)

On a Good Day, Podcast News, Presidential Felonies, Peonies, and Chocolates

Glenn and I at Meydenbauer Bay Park

On a Good Day

You wouldn’t know it, because right now it is below 50°F and pouring rain, but we did actually get a couple of nice, normal May Spring days this week, and we got out to make the most of them. On one, we checked out a local park, Meydenbauer Bay Park in Bellevue, and stopped by a place I hadn’t been in person in years, Fran’s Chocolates (located in Old Town Bellevue). The sun felt good, I got to reminisce with one of the Fran’s employees about the old days when they made terrific burnt sugar ice cream and Fran wasn’t really famous yet, and I sat outside sipping hot chocolate and feeling the sun and feeling happy.

On Thursday, I had another terrific day—the sun came back out for us after a terrible wet cold May, got to talk with a cool podcast about a very cool poem, and then got a strawberry Frappuccino and gluten-free safe sweet potato fries (both rarities for me—food allergies make eating out at all a risk) And got an armful of peonies. Also, there was a guy convicted of a bunch of felonies which hopefully will lead to better people in our government overall (if you don’t do crimes, you’ll be better off, and we could use a less corrupt government right now, don’t you think?)

Now, for the rest of the week…I found out, in the same day, day my hairdresser of 20 years was leaving, my allergist was quitting (this is after losing an allergist of 20 years during the pandemic and getting this new one sigh) and going to the East Coast, and I also had some bad news about a family member, all while battling a fever, sniffles, and cold gloomy weather.

I have to remember that on a good day, my body isn’t failing at everything, people aren’t always leaving, the sun really does shine once in a while, and the right chocolate at the right time as well as an armful of pink peonies can really be magic.

And here are some pictures of birds:

Podcast News

Rufous hummingbird in flight

I learned a lot about podcasting this week as I was interviewed (can’t tell you which or why yet, it’s a secret, but I’ll tell you when it is supposed to be on) and got to chat with two of the podcast’s producers. For instance, did you know, for a fairly successful arts podcast, at least ten people work on it to get every episode, besides the person you hear talking? It takes a lot of work to make those things work.

I also thought about how podcasting poetry has maybe replaced what we used to think of as radio show poetry, like The Writer’s Almanac—now we might listen to The Slowdown or The Commonplace or podcasts of friends or the Poetry Foundation. There’s so much out there, and such a lot of voices, in some ways it’s overwhelming, but it also gives the feeling of a bigger, more inclusive community of poets.

Grumpy Great Blue Heron

I’m also reminded that the “news” that we get—whether from local newspapers, or television channels, or on Twitter or other social media—so much of it is so specific now, targeted in a way it didn’t used to be, that you have to really work to get outside the bubble of your own friends or region or party or whatever. People have talked about how depressing the news can be, which is true, but have you ever noticed some news sources are way more depressing than others? That some echo your own belief system more than others? I’m someone who studied journalism a bit in college, and getting what I can consider “unbiased” sources has become difficult, maybe impossible? Propaganda and “fake news” is everywhere, and most people, I’m afraid, will believe propaganda over truth if they never get a chance to see truth but their social media keeps showing them propaganda bots information.  But if that’s the case, then maybe this blog and its news about the birds and poetry and health—could be considered news, if only from on person’s very limited perspective? I’ll think about this some more. I mean, we tend to think of “news” as—I don’t know, crime waves or politics or wars. I remember the day the Iranian president went missing, someone I knew in Iran, as the “news” talked of Iran grieving, showed fireworks and people in the street dancing. What is the real news there? Is the official party line or is it one person’s street full of celebration? Which is more truthful? It’s why I think it’s important to travel, to read widely, to talk to people who might be different than us—different religions, races, countries, jobs, sexual orientations—because it’s too easy to only see our own point of view, or that of the dominant culture where we live. It’s like, we have the opportunity to think more widely than AI or algorithms might tell us we can, but sometimes, we have to take the time to look for those opportunities. It’s why I like to read people’s blogs, even now that some people consider them obsolete—because the personal take might look closely at just one area—say, the viewpoint of a librarian in Chicago or an academic in Virginia, or a clergyperson in North Carolina—but every take helps me understand the world from their eyes. Plus, I can only take so many reels about recipes or personal style before I go insane. I wish there were more videos of people’s home libraries instead. Hey, can we make that a trend?

This is your neighborhood poet reporting from Woodinville, Washington in the rain, and saying, be safe, happy June, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Japanese Gardens, Blood Draws, ThrowBacks, and Thinking About The Secret of NIMH and Children’s Culture

A Week of Blood Draws, Throwback, and a Visit to the Japanese Gardens

Hello my friends! It’s been a weird week here. A wonderful book club meeting at the J. Bookwalter Tasting Studio to talk about The Husbands: A Novel with great weather and a lovely sunset. The next day, downtown to the hospital to have about 75 (I’m exaggerating, but it really was 15!) tubes of blood drawn from about seven different doctors. My mother sent me a picture of myself when I was about 22 (she’s been going through her old pictures), which I’ll post somewhere below. But as I was recovering from the big blood draw, we also had terrible, cold February weather, and I was feeling weak and tired and grumpy, I watched a few of my old favorite childhood movies—namely, the Secret of NIMH and Dark Crystal. I’ll talk about that a bit later. Anyway, today still looked pretty dismal, but I wanted to see the Japanese Gardens in Seattle while the wisteria was still in bloom, so we did, and it was lovely—the water lilies, rhododendrons, and water iris all in bloom. Considering the gloomy weather, I was surprised at how crowded it was, mostly with large tourist families and a few students from the UW. People were in a kind mood, smiling at each other and helping take pictures. It definitely cheered me up. (In surprising health news, one thing the test showed was that I still haven’t had covid, and I still have immunity from my J&J shot in 21! Isn’t that crazy?)

Throwbacks, Secret of NIMH, and Children’s Culture Changes

Picture of me at about 22

My mother sent me this picture of myself at 22, when I first tried to go blonde. I ended up with a platinum pixie with asymmetrical bangs, so, you know, not for everyone. Check out the framed photograph! This was from one of my earliest apartments. Almost 30 years later, still trying to go blonde or pink or experimenting with my hair.

As I said, I was recovering from my blood draw (and it turned out from the blood work that I have been as sick as I thought, all sorts of stuff was out), so I got to watching old movies. Two children’s movies that had a great deal of impact on me as a young person were The Secret of NIMH and The Dark Crystal, both of which came out when I was nine years old, in 1982. (I posted something on Facebook about these two movies.)

Sunset after book club this week

I actually read Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH as a book (which is science fiction, by the way, not fantasy, like the movie—there was no amulet or magic in the book) before I saw the movie. I still think about what I learned from reading Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH and how it influenced me as I studied biology (and refused to experiment on rats as a result—I stuck to tomatoes!) and also my, um, healthy skepticism of government institutions. The Dark Crystal and my apparent resemblance as a child to the “gelfling”—my ears stuck out quite a bit as a kid and the other kids loved calling me gelfling—and its chilling message of darkness and light being quite closely related (if you remember the ending).

Glenn and I at the Japanese Garden

I wonder if children today get as close to the edge of too scary, too dark—in their movies as we did in the eighties. (Disney turned down Secret of NIMH because it was “too dark”—but it had a wonderful feminist message than a non-extraordinary mouse—a poor widow with four kids, no less—can be as powerful as lab-enhanced rat intelligence or human farmer’s plows.) People talk about the “toughness” of GenX—the latchkey kid thing, the riding bikes without helmets, the parents smoking in the car with the windows rolled up—but there was something in the kid’s lit and movies of the time, too—I’m thinking of books like Swiftly Tilting Planet and The Wizard Children of Finn about children saving the future and the past by themselves, with little parental oversight. I was thinking about how the culture both impacts and mirrors a generation.

This started a great conversation, people talking about the movies that frightened them when they were kids, what their own kids watch, fairy tales and the dark side of things. I also saw Miyazaki’s Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind when I was ten—it must have come out through Disney, which has that same combination of darkness and a young female hero—in this case, almost a Christ figure, who has to come between toxic animals and plants and humans who want to destroy them—involving the fallout of nuclear war, a common theme in Miyazaki movies. While many of children’s movies these days—I’m thinking of the Trolls or Minions movies, or eek, even Paw Patrol—movies so light they barely land in the psyche, my mother talked to me about the contrast in the darkness of teen lit right now, using The Hunger Games and its relations as examples of darkness without the hopefulness of the kinds of books I read as a kid. What do you think? How have children’s books and movies changed since you were a kid compared to now? If you have kids, what do you notice about how the consume media? Do they shelter young children too much with stories that are too light, and present a hopeless future to teens? I’d love to hear your thoughts on these musings of youth and movie experiences.

“Serendipity” on LitBowl, Hummingbirds, and Baby Bunnies

Rufous immature hummingbird

Hummingbirds and Baby Bunnies

Though spring and summer seem a little confused lately (Two days at over 80 degrees, then a fifty degree day with cold rain) I swear we are in the late spring/early summer phase, which means lots of birds, and the occasional baby: goslings, ducklings, ospreys learning to fly and baby bunnies.

This week was supposed to be full of medical appointments but was too sick, ironically, to attend, so I had time at home to take pictures and read some of the books that have been accumulating in my room. (Earthlings by Sayaka Murata, Brother and Sister Enter a Forest by Richard Mirabella, among others.)

Last week I was saying I didn’t feel much like a writer, but then I got an acceptance and a handful of rejections (editors clearing their desks for summer), wrote a few poems, and sent out one or two submissions, so I guess that didn’t last too long. That’s usually how it is—I might have a slow period where nothing happens, then I’ll get inspired by something and get going. This week at our Bookwalter’s Winery book club we’ll be discussing the fascinating book, The Husbands: a Novel by Holly Gramazio, which I really loved and am looking forward to seeing what other people thought about it!

A Poem from Flare, Corona featured on LitBowl

This week I was lucky enough to have a poem from Flare, Corona go mildly (?) viral on social media when it was featured by LitBowl, which puts up poems on Instagram and other social media. The poem was “Serendipity.” Here it is if you want to read it yourself. Things like this can help sell books, which is nice around the book’s one-year birthday. Thanks, LitBowl!

Life news has seemed even more apocalyptic than usual these days, so if you, like me, need a break, reading poetry and short stories can help.

If you decide you want a copy for yourself, you can order it here: Flare, Corona  

The Aurora (or FireFoxes in the Sky), Signs of Summer Already Here, and How Sometimes I Don’t Feel Like a Writer

The Aurora (or FireFoxes in the Sky)

Awe-inspiring? Yes? I finally understand the big deal about the Northern Lights! Why so many myths. The Ainu people of Japan believed a child conceived under the Northern Lights would have a particularly lucky life. One Finnish myth involves Firefoxes running so fast they left sparks in the sky. Vikings believed in the reflection of the shields of the Valkyrie. I understood, when I saw what looked like an opening in heaven with streams reaching down to earth, why people believe in aliens or gods, or like some of the Alaskan peoples, the spirits of whales and seals in the sky. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced just out on my back porch, watching all these lights move around, snapping pics with my cameras (our eyes are capable of seeing less of the color of the Northern lights than even a cellphone camera!) There were people out there walking on our street, all looking up at the sky and snapping pictures, and I felt that community, you know, the feeling of being together experiencing something beautiful.

Me and Glenn in Kirkland

Signs of Summer

The last couple days have been in the eighties and the wildfires have already started in Canada. Also, two sure harbingers of summertime here—my birds, the goldfinches and black-headed grosbeaks.

Unfortunately, along with the warm weather came some troubling health symptoms returning—unexplained fevers and hives, for instance. More MS symptoms, which is typical with the heat, I know to expect it. I am looking forward to working more on my next book manuscript in June at my writing retreat.

Ducklings

Sometimes I Don’t Feel Like a Writer

I’ll be honest. I haven’t been writing or submitting much lately. My latest book project is mostly done (I need to do some pruning…) and I haven’t had the inspiration to start a new one yet. If you go so many days without writing a poem or thinking about poetry, you can start to…not feel like a writer. I mean, I’ve been writing poems since grade school, I’ve been publishing stuff since I was a teenager, but even so, sometimes other things in my life—like being sick—take up all my time and energy, and all I have the mental energy to do is maybe watch a movie I’ve seen before or listen to an audiobook. I’ve also been doing some spring cleaning—eliminating things, mostly—which is exhausting. Is this MS, or midlife, or the fact that I’ve been sick for over a month with a mystery illness the doctors can’t seem to figure out or treat while I go to appointments and get blood drawn and get MRIs. Ugh. I have hope that the writing residency upcoming in June will give me a boost, but honestly, I’m just feeling disconnected from the writing world—which let’s face it, has had a lot of ugliness in it lately—and even from poetry. It’s been a while since I read a poetry book that I was like, “Wow!” about. Once again, sometimes it’s hard for me to distinguish what’s happening physically to my body (pain, hives, weakness, fatigue, etc) and what’s going on emotionally and mentally. Usually, like Taylor Swift sings, “I’m so productive…it’s an art” but not lately. I was trying to find paid work for a while (we still haven’t gotten our ADA bathroom remodel started due to lack of funds) which maybe was a bit dispiriting. I feel old and unwanted and like the current batch of editors at lit mags are not even interested in the kind of thing I write anyway, so why send anything out? This is not a pity party, but I wonder if anyone else is feeling this kind of disconnect from writing and the writing world? Is this part of getting older? Or part of being sick? I can’t tell!

Still, it’s exciting to see ducklings on my daily walk (when I’m up for one of those) or see something as spectacular as the Northern Lights. I still feel happy with most of my life, honestly, I just feel annoyed that my health problems take up so much time and money and energy, and keep me from doing anything I actually want to do. And the fact that summer—with its heat (and MS symptoms) and wildfires (allergy and asthma symptoms) is coming, I know it’s not my best season, despite the proliferation of summer flowers and blue skies.

What do you do when you don’t feel like a writer? Comments welcome!