Midwinter Sun, Four New Poems up at Live Encounters, Money and Poetry, and Plath’s New Book

Glenn and I near a creek in Woodinville

A Hint of Spring Sun

Greetings from Seattle! We had a little peek of sunshine today, so even though I’m still fighting off this virus from hell, I got out a little bit and saw the sun! We had deer visitors, the birds have been chirping like it’s springtime (even though it’s still a little chilly outside.) So if anyone tells you it rains all the time in Seattle, well, I post these pictures as proof that is not technically true.

Nature Poems up at Live Encounter

Sneak Peek at two of my poems up at Live Encounter

I love taking pictures of nature, as you may know if you follow this blog, but I don’t often write about it. That’s why these four poems, up at Live Encounter, may surprise you: “Halloween, 2018,” “Charmed,” “November Dark,” and “Lost Flowers.” These are the sorts of poems I write that never end up in books – orphaned, one-offs, or just not themed in a way that lends itself to a certain collection. Do you have poems like this?

Nature Pics: Baby Hummingbird, Super Wolf Moon Eclipse, Deer Gangs

Speaking of which, here are some nature pics: a gang of deer, a baby hummingbird, and a few pics of the Super Wolf Moon eclipse (I didn’t sleep right for three days afterwards, FYI,)

Reading the new Sylvia Plath Story

Sylvia with her namesake’s book – four paws up!

Delighted to receive my copy of “Mary Ventura and the Ninth Kingdom,” a new short story published by Faber & Faber that Sylvia Plath wrote when she was 20 years old, and Mademoiselle rejected. She didn’t work on the story again for two years, and when she did, she diminished the mystery and darkness of it. A reminder that we, as writers, often let editors guide what and how we write way too often – and just because something is rejected, doesn’t mean it isn’t good. She was just way ahead of her time. This story seems today, Murakami-esque, in the school of magical realism or symbolism – some resemblances to the story of Snowpiercer, in fact – at the time, it must have been very surprising reading indeed. I wish she had been encouraged to write more short fiction – this piece shows she had a real talent for it. One more lesson from Sylvia: don’t let editors discourage you from writing something different, or something people haven’t seen before. Or, in modern parlance, F&ck the haters.

A Little Midwinter Panic (Health, Money and Poetry)

I’m already indulging in a little midwinter panic – first, AWP Portland (will I be healthy? Will I get sick while I’m there? What in the heck is the hotel going to be like – will it be accessible? Will the conference be more accessible than last time? Will I be able to meet with everyone I want to, or get all the books and lit mags I want home?) Also, health stuff – will I ever get better from this virus (as I speak, on a new inhaler and antibiotic and still running 100 degree fever and coughing like the dickens). I have to go get my thyroid checked out and some more cancer tests at the endocrinologist on Monday. And then I had this dream about the afterlife and how I told the afterlife people I shouldn’t have spent so much of my life trying to be a poet, that I should have aimed higher and tried to be a rock star instead. So obviously mid-life crisis-ing – this often coincides with about the time I do my yearly taxes, which shows my yearly writing expenditures vs income. This may be the first year I actually made more from royalties than I made from freelance writing – which was still not very much.

I also posted a link to this article on Vox about money and a life in the arts. I’ll try to post a little more about my thoughts on poetry, money, and Plath a little later in the week, but to put it shortly: yes, a life in the arts is almost impossible without marrying money or having family money, no, most people won’t be able to pay off their MFA student loans writing (or even teaching, as I discovered to my dismay as an adjunct.) If publishers want “diverse” voices – women, writers of color, disabled writers – as much as they say they do, they should offer to waive those exorbitant submission fees, or they are literally ruling out the people they say they want to publish – and they should publish those “diverse” voices more often, rather than straight white men who happen to come from money (a dismaying majority, still.)  Sylvia letters reveal a great deal of anxiety about money, starting when she was fairly young – always worried she didn’t have enough of it, always looking for a side hustle though she was desperate for time just to write – having two young children and a terrible husband didn’t help that, of course. I would even say that Ted running off with their entire bank account and leaving Sylvia to support their two children alone may even have contributed to Sylvia’s death. So money is serious, and anyone who gives people advice about becoming a poet or artist or whatever ought to be frank about what is involved, and the hardships moneywise people will face. I still remember the advice I tried to give the students in the MFA program I taught in – I didn’t come from money, and many of those MFA students certainly financially struggling and from working-class backgrounds – and I was often distraught when I had to tell them the truth – how little I made from teaching (less than minimum wage,) how that was often the case for women who are most often assigned adjunct teaching roles and very rarely make tenure, how little I make from writing, despite some serious hustle on my part, how technical writing paid my bills for years until I became too sick to do it full-time, and that is why I had the time to become a poet, but how I would probably still be working for the man if I had the health for it (ironically, mostly because working for the man provides the best health care.) I am still paying my student loans off. I do not make enough to pay them off as a writer – I have to rely on my husband’s help. That’s not cool, but it is the reality. I wonder often if I’m doing the right thing (see: afterlife dream) putting so much effort and time into poetry when it seems to give so little back – and I still wonder if the MFA was a silly expenditure for me. I wish more poets – and other people in the arts – were more up front about how the got where they are, how they afford their life, and how much their students can expect to do with their MFA once they get it. The truth about money – it’s part of politics, even poetry politics, and the more we keep it a secret, the more power it has over us.

Anyway, read the article for yourself and let me know your thoughts! Or just stress out about AWP 🙂