Signs of Spring, a New Review of Field Guide on The Pedestal, and Spring Poems

First, thanks so much to The Pedestal and Stephanie Chan for this excellent, thoughtful review of Field Guide to the End of the World. Here’s a little bit from the end of the review:

She makes the end of the world strangely relatable, filled with details of normalcy that have been flipped on their heads. Field Guide to the End of the World feels very much like a collection of postcards, poems sent from a series of desolate vacation spots, each inscribed “Wish you were here”—with romantic nostalgia for a future that may or may not come to be.”

(If you’d like to purchase a signed copy of Field Guide to the End of the World, you can do so here! And here it is on Amazon in case you’re just dying to write your own review 🙂 Did I mention I’m in the middle of revising and trying to finish my PR for Poets book? I’ve re-organized it into more bite-size chapters and interview tips, and So I thought I’d practice a little of what I’ve been writing about.)

Had a bit of a hard week with the aftermath of more medical testing – I’ve got a couple more important ones to do, then hope I can get a break for a while, as in, no results will be worrisome and require even worse follow-up testing. And at the end of the month, a new Aimee Mann album drops – “Mental Illness,” so I’ve got that to look forward to!

Today’s the first day of spring, and yesterday we had actual sunshine (after two months of record cold and wet) so I went out hunting for signs of spring. Nothing in my own garden is blooming yet, but we put roses, blueberries, and sweet peas in the ground anyway. Here are a signs of spring from all around town…plum blossoms, camellias, and other early blooms:

I thought I’d post a poem from my previous book, The Robot Scientist’s Daughter, called “The Robot Scientist’s Daughter in Spring,” as appropriate for today:

Success, Ambition, and the Body: How Do We Define Success as Writers? And What Do We Do When Circumstances Defy our Expectations?

I am staring down my 44^th birthday next month, in the middle of a bunch of medical testing I had to put off while I was sick the previous couple of months. I have noticed that many of my conversations with friends lately – younger friends in their twenties and early thirties, older friends in their mid-fifties and sixties – are about whether or not we are feeling successful in our lives as writers.

What does success mean to us? Is it a full-time, tenure-track teaching job (I used to think so!) What about getting an NEA grant? (Though now, after seeing the Trump budget proposal which I dearly hope will be turned down by Congress, the NEA may in fact disappear, so,…) What about getting a poem published in a dream publication? What about getting your first book published? What about your second? What gives you happiness and satisfaction in your work? Would a MacArthur Genius Grant make you feel happy with what you have done, or would it drive you to work harder? Do you just want to get paid enough to cover rent and food?

I asked this question of Facebook and got a myriad of answers from writers just starting out and writers who have several of the accomplishments I’ve listed above. (You can check out the thread here at this link, I think: https://www.facebook.com/webbish6/posts/10155904705729951)

You can see that success, satisfaction, happiness with your work on a writer can be hard to define, can be a moving target, and can often feel like it depends on external factors we cannot control.

I was talking to a writer friend of mine who, like me, is often limited in her drive to succeed by what her body is able to do (or is not able to do.) I had to turn down a reading visit I dearly wanted to do next month because I have been so sick this year and I was worried the travel would send me back to the hospital. When I have to do stuff like that, it feels like crap. I feel like a failure. Though I know I can do a Skype visit (which I love! And thank goodness for technology!) I miss the in person visiting. I’m one of those writers who actually likes being around people – other writers, students, etc.

When I consider applying for full-time jobs I’m worried my body would not be able to handle…but on some days when I feel optimistic, I feel like I could do…when I wonder if I’m letting down my publishers by not traveling more to promote my books, or skipping AWP… I’m running into the problem of drive versus limitation. My friend whose been laid off from her job of twenty years and is stressed out looking for something new, or my friend who’s looking for her first job that can sustain her financially – they are also running into limitations, different ones. Our lives are defying our ambition, our plans for success, our road to what a writer is supposed to be able to do and be.

I wrote last year when I was diagnosed with terminal cancer that I was happy with what I’ve accomplished so far in life, and you know what? That’s still mostly true. I’ve been Poet Laureate of my city, I’ve published five books, all with publishers I consider friends. I’ve published in a few “dream” publications. But now that I’m looking at the possibility of a little more time, and the possibility of being slightly more mobile (I’m mostly not in a wheelchair or on a cane right now, due to 6 grueling years of twice-weekly physical therapy for neurological issues) it feels like I SHOULD be doing more than I am. But I’m still worn out, the cancer tests keep going, my immune system has been a big FAIL for three months. I’m grateful that I may not be facing death in six months. But I’m also anxious about what I should be doing in the meantime.

Last night I turned in two articles, turned in the judging of a poetry contest, and finished my first organized draft of what will become my sixth book eventually (possible titles: Post-Life? Sitting by Yourself at the End of the World? Self-Portrait as Accident?) and am thinking of what I can do to help promote Field Guide to the End of the World that I’m not already doing. And you know, today, I’m getting ready to go undergo more tests at a medical office which will take a couple of hours, and I’m like – can I get a submission in? Or write a new poem?

My ideas about what I expect for my life are different now, my ideas about what success as a writer consists of has changed. Sure, I would love a part-time job I could actually do from home, I would love a best-selling book or more prestigious book reviews or an award for Field Guide to the End of the World, I would love an unexpected award or fellowship out of nowhere, but I’m thankful for what I do have: a whole bunch of poems I’m pretty proud of, a great bunch of writer friends around the globe who are supportive and helpful when I need it, a spouse who values the work I do (even when it doesn’t bring in the kind of money I’d like it to.) I am thankful for today, which I would usually classify as a “bad day,” as it involved a company coming to cut down one of my backyard trees, a birch that’s gotten infested with birch beetles, which was sad, the news about Trump wanting to cut Meals on Wheels, which at least several of my house-bound relatives are reliant on, the NEA, and PBS, and the aforementioned several-hour-long medical testing. But the sun shone a little today, I made plans about new things to plant, and when I get home, I’m going to make more plans, submission and writing plans. That’s what we do to truly succeed as writers: we hold on to hope, we plant seeds, we try again. We keep writing.

Happy 20th, Buffy! And Making It Through March…

Today is the 20th anniversary of the first episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I didn’t catch a Buffy episode until the end of Season 2, and I was instantly hooked. That when I was (over)working as a Capital One Media Manager in my early twenties. So Buffy was entirely a thing of my adult life, not my teenage life, which was too bad. I mean, I did have Daria during high school (the original MTV version with original music – so much better than the edited/without music episodes you can see now) but it would have been nice to have a dose of kick-ass girl power in those days.

So here’s my poem, from Becoming the Villainess, that was meant to immortalize my version of Buffy, “The Slayer Asks for Time Off.”

I’m thinking there’s a segue-way here about survival and weariness, what with Buffy and Joan of Arc and what this year so far has felt all about. The worst winter in the Northwest in history? Check. The government’s extreme chaos? Check. Health stuff? Yep, I’ve been sick in one way or another almost every day since the year started. Today there was a brief window of grayish sunlight. I took a walk at a nearby winery where there was no hint of spring yet – the vines had no visible greenery, no flowers, the ducks (wood ducks, mergansers, buffleheads, Canadian geese, etc) were huddled together against the wind. As I was walking along a path, a whorl of wind picked up around me, raising leaves – that I previously hadn’t even seen on the ground – up into the air around me, along with a cacophonous murder of crows. It was like a magical moment when a teen witch discovers her powers, except it was just me, and the weird wind.

It’s a struggle, sometimes, to feel like the heroine of your own life. It feels like there is only more evil to confront, more tasks that seem insurmountable, more problems to figure. When the weather and the news and your body conspire against you to make you miserable, we are required to look beyond the moment, beyond the cold wind and the crowds, to a future where flowers and abundance and health and happiness seem possible again. Most of us are required, sometimes, to fight battles that no one else will ever understand or know about. We feel alone. We feel helpless or overwhelmed. When it feels like we have nothing, we still have ourselves, the mysterious power of hope and even sometimes love. Our resources are larger than our enemies imagine. We must become our own magic.

Poetry Taxes, Thundersnowstorms, Out in the World, and a new review for Field Guide to the End of the World,

First of all, thanks to The Nervous Poodle’s Noor Hindi for posting this new review of Field Guide to the End of the World. It’s very thoughtful and well-written, which I always appreciate as a fellow reviewer! I just received a review copy of Marie Howe’s Magdalene, and I’m trying to figure out how to write a good enough review that honors Howe’s work. I also appreciate the new Amazon review for Field Guide to the End of the World – in case you don’t know this, writers, especially poets, could really use more Amazon reviews, but it is excruciating to ask for them, so do us a favor, and if you ever like a book of poetry, note it somewhere – your blog, Goodreads, Amazon, a literary magazine, The New York Times Review of Books, whatever. The poet will be grateful!

So, it’s been snowy – check that, thundersnowy – here in Seattle. We’re supposed to have more snow later this week. I for one am sick of having super-crappy weather when we’re supposed to be having flowers and songbirds and at least the happiness of a few sunny days. Here’s a picture of the Space Needle being struck by lightning during a blizzard and my back porch if you don’t believe me. April can not come soon enough.

We took advantage of our lingering bad weather to work on taxes. And here’s what I discovered – I am NOT in poetry for the money. I spent more on poetry last year than I made. By a lot. To be fair, I thought I was dying for the majority of the year (see previous blog posts about my metastasized cancer diagnosis in February of last year), AND I went to AWP AND had a book launch, so there were more than average expenses and I wasn’t exactly out there hustling for every dollar. But sigh. It was discouraging to look at the numbers. Also, I feel a little bitter about the fact that Trump probably paid less taxes than I did last year, despite the fact that he brags about how rich he is. #poetspayingmoretaxesthanTrump – do you think that hashtag will take off?

To cheer myself up, I went out to see Ellen Bass read at SAL last night after a somewhat positive meeting with my new neurologist (this one encourages physical therapy – my two previous neurologists basically told me I was wasting my time.) (If you’re new to the blog, I have a mysterious neural lesion issue that’s affected things like my balance and motor skills – they just show up and they’re not sure why, although now they’re pretty sure it’s not MS or strokes.) I showed her the progress I’ve made and she seemed really impressed. So that was good. Seeing a lot of poetry people at the SAL event really did cheer me up – it’s really nice to be around other writers and poetry-lovers. I feel like forcing ourselves to go out even in bad weather, even when we’re not feeling great or cheerful, is good medicine for the writer soul.

I also did a class visit earlier this week via Skype, which went well and was blessedly free of technical problems, and Friday I’m going to do a reading and Q&A in Mississippi via Skype. These things make me feel cheerful too. I love interacting with students, and with readers and audiences that I might not otherwise get to see because of health issues or whatever, with technology. I like getting out there in the world, even if it’s just virtually.

Hailstorms, HWA Bram Stoker Award Finalist for Field Guide, Elgin Award Nominations, and Tapping into February Despair for Positive Actions

Kitten Sylvia’s First Hailstorm, and She Does Not Care for It!

Woke up to hailstorms (second day in a row) and a little good news: Field Guide to the End of the World made it to the finalist round in the HWA’s Bram Stoker Award! Hooray!

http://horror.org/2016-bram-stoker-awards-final-ballot/

It’s also been nominated for this year’s Elgin Award! Thank you to those who nominated it!

So if you’re a voter in either the HWA or the SFPA but have yet to see Field Guide to the End of the World for yourself, there’s a special link here where you can download the PDF. Every vote helps! Just like in real life 🙂 Also, if you’ve read it and liked it, please put a review up on Amazon! I’d really love to see at least ten reviews up there!

February Despair, and How to Channel It

So, it’s February, and the weather’s been dreary, wetter and colder than usual, I’ve been sick for the majority of the month (it also hit my normally healthy husband) and then I knocked a tooth out Monday night which resulted in my very first crown (so $$$!) and Glenn needed thumb surgery after a kitchen accident. The news of course has been horrifying (people being asked for their papers before they’re able to get off planes; people being picked up in the middle of the night, burning the Standing Rock camp, The EPA/Russia stuff, Arizona deciding it can take your house if you plan a protest, in case you missed any of that fun.) If I check back on my blog in years past in February though, chances are I’ll be blogging about discouragement, depression, and despair, because February is the month of giving up/getting sick in the Northwest. This year everyone else across the country has been getting sunny, warm, spring-like weather, and I also had to miss AWP, which sort of made it worse! Anywhere but here…although since I’ve lived in so many places I know intellectually that each place has a downside, that this feeling will pass, that I’ll love the Northwest again (but not as long as snow is in the dang forecast! Come on, spring!)

But how to turn this February despair into something positive? Well, since I’ve been stuck at home for the most part, we’ve gotten started on the taxes, I’ve gotten started on two new articles for Poet’s Market, and I’ve been hard at work on an editing pass on the PR for Poets book, which I realized was in worse shape than I thought and needed tons more work. Isn’t that always the way? You’re so proud of yourself on the first draft, and then you look at it a few months later on the editing pass, and you’re like: “What was I thinking? This all needs to be re-written!” I’m also working on a full-length new manuscript of poetry (title still undetermined), which somehow has found itself put together since January, and I’ve been working on it a little at a time. Plus calling and writing my representatives about the various nightmare political stuff. So, to recap: being disgustingly sick and fairly discouraged/down but trying to channel this into making things better. At least when I’m not so sick I can’t even sit up or focus on the computer, which has been a good amount of time!

Sometimes being chronically ill makes me hibernate, though I’m more outgoing in nature than most writers. You just 1. want to avoid germs, either getting or spreading them 2. don’t feel you have the energy (See: The Spoon Theory from “But You Don’t Look Sick”) and 3. tend to have a more pessimistic outlook when your body physically hurts. I need to make more of an effort to socialize, to get out when I can, because we really do have a lovely poetry community here. And I found out we’re about to get our very own independent bookstore nearby in Redmond Town Center called Bricks and Mortar Books. It opens in May, and I’m excited about that! Nothing is more demoralizing than having to drive 45 minutes and pay a bridge toll to get to an indie bookstore! I will also make an effort to be a bit more active on social media until the weather turns better/my health improves. At least I can contribute that way and it’s very difficult to give anyone the flu through e-mail or the phone. Anyway, if I owe you an e-mail or phone call, please don’t hesitate to bother me!