Posts in Category: announcement
“The Heat Wimp” — that’s me.
Dorothy Parker’s Ashes
I unabashedly enjoy this publication: Dorothy Parker’s Ashes. I’ve been reading it for at least three years, maybe more. I love their mission, their muse, their layout. When a new issue arrives in my inbox, I pop right over to read it. Each issue has a theme, and all the essays are short little works that usually hit just right, if you know what I mean. If you don’t, well, tough cookie, I can’t explain.
And because I admired DPA, I wanted DPA to publish me. Badly.
Am I allowed to be this honest?
Now, every writer has their bucket list of dream publications. Salinger’s was The New Yorker. I am not Salinger, and I know better than to expect the New Yorker to publish me. But I can dream of Ploughshares and Sequestrum, can I not? Not to mention Rattle.
Rattle is an amazing publication. The first time I entered the poem of the year contest, I sent off my favorite poem just positive that it would win. And of course it didn’t. As it turns out, none of the other markets I’ve sent this poem to share my enthusiasm for it, but still, it remains my favorite poem I’ve ever written. Anyway, after that first time entering Rattle’s contest, I knew I’d never win because each year I read the Reader’s Choice contestants, and most of them are brilliant, and we only get to vote for one. It is almost impossible. So no, I don’t enter that contest expecting recognition. I just enter to renew my subscription.
But I wanted Persimmon Tree to publish me. And Thin Skin. And they have.
Back to Dorothy Parker’s Ashes.
I just looked through my spreadsheet, and I’ve (unsuccessfully) submitted to DPA six times. SIX. This is dogged persistence on my part. I generally don’t allow a publication to hurt my feelings that many times. I mean, a person can only take so much scalding rejection, even though scalding rejection is the name of the game when it comes to submitting your work to the world of literary journals.
One thing I sent was just wrong for this publication, so of course they declined (it has found a home elsewhere). At some point I sent a piece about my minivan that I have no memory of, so it probably wasn’t very good. For their “Secrets” call, I sent a very good piece and wondered why they said no. When the issue came out it turned out my secret was a very common secret.
I sent a sweet piece about my sister for the “Myth” call, which disappeared, which leads me to believe they didn’t receive enough quality submissions to go ahead with a full issue. For the “Body” call, they rejected my piece but sent a personal note that said, “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.” Which was sweet.
Heartbreak came with their “Cops” call. I sent a piece called “Married to One.” I received a note asking for some specific changes. I made them, sent it back and received a “Wonderful, this is great, send your bio right now!” note. I did! I waited for the Cops issue. And waited. And the issue came out and my piece was not in it. I was crushed.
BUT NOT CRUSHED ENOUGH, apparently.
Always a glutton for punishment, I answered their “Heat” call. And GUESS WHAT. On my seventh try, I received an acceptance and thanks for my delightful essay. And the clouds lifted, and the sun shone, and small birds flitted around my head, singing notes of joy.
Not exaggerating. I really love this magazine.
Read my essay here: The Heat Wimp
A new poem in Abundance Literary Magazine
Ekphrasis strikes again!
I love to write poetry in response to art. This poem was inspired by a painting by Jules Bastien-Lepage, of Joan of Arc having a vision. It hangs in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
My friend Karl says it’s his favorite painting in the European gallery. He guided me to it many years ago.
Now that you’ve seen it, you can go read it!
Read the poem here in Abundance: Joan in the Garden
Who Knew a Breakfast Could Go So Bonkers?
A Meal Gone Crazy
Sometimes, without knowing why, you write something weird and before you know it, it’s published.
This is based in reality–I do have breakfast with one of my dearest friends every Monday morning. Thank goodness this has never actually happened to us. And thanks to The Dilettante Zine for giving this one a home.
Another one about leaving Montana at JMWW
A Purse Full of Change: When I Left Missoula
I think finding out that my first husband died knocked loose some bravery. Here is my second published piece about being nineteen years old and heading out of Montana and into a new life. The last one I posted was a haibun series. This one is an essay.
You can read it here: A Purse Full of Change: When I left Missoula
Poem up at NewMyths.com: A Robot Brings Flowers
Another poem in June!
I have a poem called “A Robot Brings Flowers” at NewMyths, a fantasy/science fiction journal. You can read it here:
Thanks to NewMyths, and also to Rattle
I wrote this poem in ekphrastic response to a beautiful piece of art, “Yellow Flowers” by Carla Paton. This was part of the Ekphrastic Challenge by Rattle.com, and when I saw it, my heart just kind of exploded with tenderness.
I’ve linked to the illustration below.
Yellow Flowers” by Carla Paton
My Haibun sequence about leaving Montana in The Mackinaw, and bonus haibun
It’s here!
I am so pleased to have this five-poem haibun sequence published by The Mackinaw, a journal of prose poetry. These five chapters work together to tell the story of leaving my first marriage, which really started before we were ever married when I first saw Portland, Oregon. Each part of the sequence has a slightly different tone. “Escape 1980” is my personal favorite.
Read it here:
Bonus Haibun
This is a nice example of the form, and it captures the longing and sadness of those miserable teen years, but I didn’t feel it belonged in the sequence. So I’ll put it here.
The Planet
One afternoon while visiting my parents in Portland, I watched “Silent Running” on TV. It’s about a manned spacecraft that holds geodesic domes that preserve Earth’s environments; desert, jungle, forest, arctic. The crew is helped by three small beeping droids, clear forerunners to R2D2. Forces on Earth decide to end this mission, and the ecological domes are slated for destruction. Bruce Dern is a crew member who refuses to accept that the mission is over. He rebels. At the end, it’s just him and one droid, and Dern is failing, too. So he makes a decision. He tells the little robot, “When I was a boy, I put a message in a bottle, and I threw it into the ocean. That’s what you are. A message in a bottle.” The final shot is the geodesic dome holding the little droid floating in space, carefully tending what’s left of Earth’s animals and vegetation. I was quietly devastated. For a full day after watching this movie, I would think of it and burst into tears. Earth, as far as I know, is alone in this universe. Despite searches and radio waves, telescopes and crafts of exploration, we still haven’t found any evidence of life as we know it. Our planet is that little dome of earthly life, floating alone in space. Sometimes the weight of that is almost more than I can bear.
wheeling, watering
alone in the universe
tiny guardian
I Hate Horoscopes at Defenestration
Funny fake horoscopes…
…are live today!
I wrote these from a prompt, part of the TwoSylvias poetry advent calendar. I think they are hilarious, and I’m glad that the anonymous gatekeepers of Internet humor at Defenestration agreed with me.
Here’s a link:
Shopping at the Used Man Store
New in “Pasager”
Poem out but not up
I love being published in physical print, but I like being able to share with you, too. This is a print publication of my poem, “Awakened by the Nashville Skyline.” It’s in the winter issue of Pasager Press’s journal.
Passager is a nonprofit, independent publisher whose mission is to publish the work of older writers, encourage the imagination in the later stages of life, and create beautiful and welcoming publications.
If you’d like a copy, you can order it here: Pasager
“Just Like Christmas” in Open Secrets Magazine
Here’s a fun essay.
Merry Christmas. Here’s something of mine published today in Open Secrets magazine about a very bad manager and a very happy day. And those of you who were there will recognize just how KIND I’ve been in this piece. There were some days, let me tell you.
Read it here: Just Like Christmas
Pushcart nomination!
“Wet Rain” made the cut!
I am delighted to announce that Thin Skin has nominated my short story, “Wet Rain,” for a Pushcart Prize.
You can read it here: Wet Rain
