Stealth Spring in Seattle, Spring Submissions, Poetry Month Approaches

Early pink cherry blossoms

Stealth Spring in Seattle

Waking up to gray, forty-something degrees most days this last week, it felt like we were experiencing a “stealth” spring – flowers were blooming, little by little, birds were singing a little more, but the warmer days (and the accompanying sunshine) have not, so far, appeared. Nevertheless, I’ve kept my eyes open for signs – a few daffodils opening here and there, early cherries, and here and there, a branch of flowering quince. All these pictures were taken in my neighborhood. O3

I had a reading – a Redmond Poet Laureate Reunion Reading – on Thursday, which I had to leave early from in order to speed Glenn across town for his first Pfizer shot. Soon we will both be safe to go inside buildings and visit with friends – although people still are very cautious here, everyone’s still wearing masks and nothing is as busy as you think it should be – except for the outdoor winery tables, which are overflowing with people, here in Woodinville.

Daffodils

Spring Submissions

And along with spring, comes spring submissions season. Of course, some places read submissions year-round, but for some reason – spring – particularly April – and fall – particularly September – seem to be the big submission month, maybe because most lit mags read during those times. So I’m printing out my Excel spreadsheet and looking at lists of places that are open. Hey, getting published isn’t easy or effortless – it takes a lot of work. And more organization and detail-orientedness than is ideal for someone like me. Oh well. Part of the job of being a poet.

Besides individual poetry submissions, I’m now sending out three (!) separate poetry manuscripts, which seems nuts. Someone has got to pick up one of these collections soon!

Red quince and red rhodies

Poetry Month Approaching!

It’s almost April, which is National Poetry Month – which means more readings – yes, even I’ll be doing a reading – and more attention to poetry in general, which is good. It’s also my birthday month, and when I’ll technically be able to safely go out and be fully immunized. And it’s Tulip Festival time – even if spring is running a little late, Skagit Valley will be full of blooming tulips by the middle of April, and I’m planning a day trip up there to see them this year, having missed it last year due to the shutdown. Wish me good weather luck!

It’s also a month when many new poetry books come out, including my friend Kelli Agodon’s book from Copper Canyon, Dialogues with Rising Tides, among others. Go ahead and treat yourself to a few good poetry books for poetry month. If you want any of mine, signed by the author, (some of them hard to find on Amazon anymore), see here!

Anyway, I am wishing you all a happy and healthy spring, and a happy National Poetry Month. I am hoping the vaccines will be faster than the variants. I am hoping for an end to our plague year at last

Spring Equinox, St Patrick’s Day, Vaccinations, a New Book in the Works, and an Upcoming Redmond Poet Laureate Reading

White cherry blossoms, white sky

Spring Equinox and a New Book in the Works

It’s cold and gray on today’s Spring Equinox and official first day of spring here in Seattle, although there is evidence spring is approaching or at least trying to make some progress. I usually write and think about poetry (and life) more on the equinox for whatever reason (passage of time, seasons, poetry stuff, don’t they go hand in hand?) and today found me organizing, shuffling, taking poems in and out, copyediting a brand new poetry manuscript – all written in the last year and a half. A press asked to see the full manuscript yesterday, which led to me having a flurry of fixing and editing and polishing and retitling. But it was a good feeling – productive, happy – to be working on this new book manuscript, and looking towards the future.

St Patrick’s Day and Vaccinations

It was a more celebratory St. Patrick’s Day this year than usual because I was finally able to get the Johnson and Johnson vaccine, so a lucky day indeed. I felt great the day of the shot, no allergic reactions, though had a down day the next day (like a normal human – fever, chills, headache, nothing crazy.) It was sunny and Glenn and I went out and took pictures with the plum blossoms afterwards. Glenn won’t have his shot for another week or two at least so it’s a moderated celebration, but it feels like there’s something positive on the horizon. after so much stress and anxiety about when and how I’d get the shot and if I’d catch covid before I got the shot.

Washington State has only vaccinated about 12 percent of people so far, so we still have a long way to go to any kind of “safe” opening up, but at least it’s finally moving forward after crawling at a snail’s pace while other states raced ahead. The process of getting the vaccination appointment took three people (myself, my mother in Ohio, and Glenn) after a friend called me to clue me into to how the vaccines were proceeding so yay teamwork, but it shouldn’t have been such an undertaking. Don’t be afraid to ask for help if you are still waiting for your shot – your tech-savvy friends and family, your friends who are volunteering at vaccine sites – and I hope you all get your treasured vaccines sooner rather than later. It really took away a great weight and anxiety I had been feeling for at least a year, but even more recently as numbers and variants have been on the rise. I feel like I can focus on other aspects of life again. Like writing. And friendships. And living life.

And my birthday is coming up at the end of April, usually a happier time although last year it had a distinctly mournful feel in the middle of rising death tolls and with the vaccine far on the horizon. I hope this year will have better things on the horizon.

Upcoming Redmond Poet Laureate Reunion Reading

And I have a Zoom reading coming up – a Redmond Poet Laureate Reunion reading, with current Redmond Poet Laureate (and friend) Raul Sanchez, Rebecca Woods Meredith, Michael Dylan Welch, myself, Shin Yu Pai, and Melanie Noel. It’s from 3 PM to 4:30 PM Pacific on Thursday the 25th, so you’ll see each of us read for a few minutes, which should be fun. I’m going to read some new work!

Here’s where to register for the event. 

Changing Times (and Seasons), New Poems in the Fairy Tale Review, Science Fiction Libraries, and Daring to Hope

First Plum Blossoms

Changing Times (and Seasons)

Well, we’ve now had a few sunny dry days and already our late spring seems to be starting to arrive; I snapped pics of the very first cherry and plum blossoms in our neighborhood. I was out sick last week after a mammoth five-tooth-repair dental appointment (these things knock me out for about a week, typically – I blame my weak immune system) but this week I notice I am moving slower, going to sleep earlier, and craving more vegetables (especially in soups – potato and fennel, snap pea and asparagus) and our time change happens tonight at 2 AM, which can affect a lot of people different ways.

In Seattle, I’m usually happy for the extra hour of light, which is desperately needed. I purposefully took some walks around town this week, trying to get some exposure to the sun, fresh, air, birdsong, etc. This morning we picked out some herbs to start in the garden and Glenn will do the hard work of getting them in the ground. I’ve been practicing my Japanese (still very beginner level) and guitar (same, I’m afraid.) I snapped some pictures of birds as well as flowers.

Sylvia poses with Fairy Tale Review’s Gold issue

New Poems in Fairy Tale Review

I had a little good news in the mailbox this week.  The first was the Gold issue of Fairy Tale Review, a journal I have been trying to get into for years, maybe since it was first created, and this issue (yay!) has two of my poems in it. The theme of the poems was Anne Sexton’s Transformations.

I’ve included them below in case you want to take a sneak peek at them.

Two poems from the Gold issue of Fairy Tale Review

First cherry blossoms

Science Fiction Library Feature

I also received a lovely booklet from Jeremy Brett, a librarian and archivist at the Science Fiction Library at Texas A & M University. This booklet featured a bunch of books, but my book The Robot Scientist’s Daughter was featured in “When Science Goes Awry” with a nice write-up. I appreciate it, guys!

If you ever get a chance to visit Texas A & M, you should seek out the Science Fiction library, which includes wonderful archives of terrific science fiction writers (including me!) It’s on my list of trips to take!

Steller’s Jay in planter

Daring to Hope

So, are we there yet? Chronically ill and disabled people in Washington State are STILL not eligible for the vaccination yet, but I’m hoping the time is drawing closer (and I’m twittering about it to my governor as much as possible.) With the vaccine being an important step to being able to live a normal life again for both me and Glenn – we are starting to think about things we might be able to do again without worry – shopping at a grocery store or picking up flowers, browsing in a bookstore or going for my MRIs (among other doctor and dentist appointments) without fear of dying as a result. I have been in a stew of anxiety since the year began – wondering and waiting for the vaccine to be available – but now I’m starting to hope I’ll be vaccinated by my birthday at the end of April, that I’ll be able to visit Skagit Valley’s tulip gardens while they’re still in bloom, that I might be able to see my friends and family in person and even hug them (?) I’d like to visit Snoqualmie Falls in spring, too – I love the woods – and maybe even an exotic day trip out to Port Townsend.

Me with new fixed teeth

And, I have to admit, as an asthmatic, I am really hoping they do away with mask requirements for vaccinated folks (at least outdoors,) because I didn’t want to complain publicly because I know we had to wear them for safety, but I struggle to breathe in almost any kind of mask for any amount of time. But I will probably still wear one in dentist and doctor’s offices, when I have to go into the hospital, for medical testing, and certainly in any kind of mass transit, for the foreseeable future. With a primary immune deficiency, I realize there are more germs than just coronavirus out there, and I could have been doing a better job protecting myself – mask, gloves, changing shoes and clothes when I get in from a crowded setting or travel. This pandemic has made me much more aware of my vulnerabilities – and not just to coronavirus. I want to spend as little time in the hospital as possible for the rest of my life, and these new practices might help.

During this last two weeks, I also had some pretty crushing rejections – including a press that kept my book for a year (ouch) – and am hoping that a good press will give one or both of my books a chance very soon. I want to be able to focus on something positive as we wait out the rest of this painful year (plus) of plague.

So what about you? What are you most looking forward to?

Almost Spring, Tired of Resilience, and Contemplating Ten Years Ago

Pink rhododendrons

Almost Spring

Spring on the East side of Seattle typically starts showing up mid-February, with daffodils, cherry and plum blossoms, and camellias, but this year, winter has kept its cold grip on us, and all the gardens – including mine – are showing barely a spark of life. So we went driving around yesterday looking for signs of spring. We didn’t find many – these pink rhododendrons by Lake Washington, a red swirl camellia, and the jonquils in my yard were the only signs spring might – MIGHT – be on its way. And we’ve had more than our share of rainbows, but mostly in between the gloom of hailstorms, thunderstorms, and just plain rain. We are ready for more light, and more than just metaphorically speaking.

House finch and chickadee

Tired of “Resilience”

Are you as tired of that word as I am? If I am told one more time by a newsperson or magazine article that I need to build more “resilience,” I will scream. It has been a year since the pandemic was recognized here in the states, a year in which we lost 500,000 people in our country and 5,000 in our state. I am still waiting to hear when Washington State will start vaccinating people like me – disabled, chronically ill types who would certainly be at risk of death if they caught covid – but alas, they are only focusing on age as a risk factor, so I guess I’ll be waiting forever? It’s enough to give a girl a nervous breakdown, especially with the news that more contagious, more deadly variants of covid-19 are developing in CA and NY.

Add on top of that, the writer’s life that is mostly rejection, rejection, rejection, and the advice to build resilience can get really old. I did get an acceptance today, and I have some poems coming out soon in “dream journals” of mine, journals I have been loving for years, like Fairy Tale Review and Image, among others. So I am thankful for that.

But as I as listening to hail hit our roof and windows the other night, I was wondering if one of my three manuscripts I’ve been sending out will get taken soon, or at least before I die. I’m not kidding about that, and I’m not being melodramatic. Everything feels dangerous right now – I have to go to the dentist for a broken tooth this week, and get an MRI for my liver tumors which could kill me if we don’t keep a close eye on them- and without a vaccine it literally feels like I’m risking my life. And let’s not even talk about how impatient my neurologists are being for me to get brain MRIs and other MS tests I have to do in person. I can’t imagine how it feels for my friends who are young but have cancer and are going to regular treatments – and I have several – and be unable to get a vaccine while constantly being in a dangerous hospital environment. Much worse than me, probably. In the meantime, I’m happy for friends in other states who are able to get the vaccine, but I wish my own state would start acting like it values the lives of people like me. I’m happy the third vaccine, Johnson & Johnson, has been approved, but no word on rollout yet. No amount of resilience is going to make up for the tension, anxiety, loneliness, boredom, danger and strain of the last year, and platitudes do not make things better. My usual coping mechanisms- spending time in nature, reading and writing, and connecting with friends (these days, mostly by phone) – may not be adequate to what we are facing.

Reading before a party, 2011

Nostalgia and Reminiscing: Ten Years Ago

What were you doing ten years ago? I couldn’t really remember, so I looked back in a fit of nostalgia at pictures and blog posts from ten years ago, in 2011. I was 37, my second book came out, and even though Glenn remembers me being very sick that year (as yet undiagnosed with a mast cell disorder, a primary immune deficiency, or MS, I was really struggling with symptoms of all those things uncontrolled), I noticed I traveled, I saw friends, I even hosted a couple of parties and did readings. When I was younger, it was easier to “push through” than it is now. I am lucky enough to still be friends with most of the people in these pictures, too! We can’t always say that!

In March 2011, I was very concerned about the Fukushima disaster in Japan, especially as I have several friends that were impacted by the earthquake, tsunami and nuclear meltdown, and its enormous environmental impact. We are always experiencing some kind of crisis here on earth, aren’t we? I was looking forward to going to the Skagit Tulip Festival, I think I was planning a birthday/book party (?), and the Skagit Poetry Festival was coming up. Even though I was sick, I managed to go to a lot of things that cheered me up, and saw a bunch of friends. Looking at these picture makes me impatient for the time I can be inside a bookstore with friends, having people over the house without worry. When will we be able to do that again? Experts are giving us different times – summer, Christmas, 2022? Hopefully sooner rather than later, and hopefully science (the vaccines) will outpace evolution (mutations of the virus).

Sylvia and Shakespeare, looking like negative photos of each other

So much happens in ten years, right? But some things are comfortingly the same. The tulips will bloom in La Conner this year, whether or not there are crowds to greet them. I lost cousins, a close Aunt and Uncle, both my maternal grandparents. I gained four nieces and nephews. Spring will eventually come to us in Seattle, the days will get longer, more people will get vaccinated. Over ten years, I published three more books, getting correctly diagnosed with several health problems meant I could manage my symptoms better, and I am thankful for friends and family that are still with me. Getting older for me really does feel like a blessing, given that I was given six months to live back in 2018 from liver cancer, and multiple cases of pneumonia could have killed me, but didn’t. Even in quarantine, I am thankful for birds outside my window, my little garden, my cats, husband’s steadiness in the face of disasters. I am wishing you things that can make the next few months, if not joyful, at least bearable.