For the past few months I've been settling into my new job (career) as a substitute teacher, submitting in short bursts, writing (jotting) in the Notes app on my phone, and keeping one eye on the writing community.
Recently I ordered peluda, a book of poetry by Melissa Lozada-Olivia, published by Button Poetry. I decided to pre-order right after seeing her reading of "My Spanish," which was agonizing and rooted right into my heart. Anyone from a bilingual family who is less than fluent for any reason will reach for that particular poem.
I also found a great group interview on CNF via Submittable (if you're a writer and you don't have Submittable, get it). You can find the interview here.
Even when life gets a bit fast-paced I try to keep one eye on the writing community. Hopefully I have some time in the next few weeks to get back on the grind.
So I think in previous posts I've touched on the fact that I'm not really one of those writers who forms habits. I don't write at a specific time of day, I don't have any kind of build up to writing, I don't even really have a specific place that I write. Although usually it's at the kitchen table or desk. But I don't need to be there to write. And often I have tea - sometimes hot chocolate. A few nights ago, whiskey with a ginger mixer. But those still aren't necessary for me to grind out some work, they're just comfortable.
Even the notebooks I carry around with me vary. Recently I tried to keep just one for another blog that I update every few days (A Loud Girl) but even that now has lists that aren't related to "good things," and a few character names that attracted my mind.
A few days ago, though, I decided to start a new routine. A real routine, aside from the squats I do daily or bringing the puppy out every few hours.
Over the last couple of months I've talked to cowo...
I wrote it just on the cusp of going out to Idaho/Wyoming/Utah, the experience of which struck me more than I expected. I had thought that I'd have a hard time of it, since I was supposed to go with the subject of this poem. Instead I spent a little over a week wandering the wilderness out there with my dad. It was a trip full of old trucks, wind turbines, potato fields, elk, bison, ravens, staring at mountains in silence together. I couldn't have asked for a better cure for my soul at that point.
The thing about The Hunted is that I had only been able to imagine the west - I didn't know that what I was writing would be so spot-on to how I imagined him out there wandering around, away from the east coast, looking for something.
I go back to this poem sometimes when I think I'm missing him or when I'm feeling a bit bitter. It helps me re-orient myself.
There is a lot of the past here. Although I wouldn't label this an elegy, I remember reading...
I'm feeling especially restless and bitter and a bit angry today - probably for no real reason.
But I sat down anyway and slogged through my emails, through possible journals/magazines to submit through, and after updating here I plan on going through some poetry and stories and seeing what comes of it.
A few small things have happened that I feel I should update on. For starters, I now have an Amazon author page here.
That's actually very exciting for me, and something that has made being a writer a little more real. It still feels like a dream, but a dream that's closer now - more visible.
I also have another blog that I've been trying to keep up with more often than this one. So far I'm only a month in - it isn't writing related in the way that I'm going to include past work, where I've been published, etc. But it is a way to practice.
On Pinterest last night I stumbled on a post about how important it is to practice writing, and while I agree with that, I just don't find prompts that...
Today I finished about five poems - and some are much closer to finished than they were a few weeks or months ago.
I've been walking wide circles around my desk for months now, and I've even been leaving the small notebook I normally carry around at home. I don't think that I've been actively avoiding writing, but I think that I just haven't been feeling it - I mean feeling it IN me - and so I get guilty when I walk by the pens and laptop and jotted down notes.
But today I made myself sit down and at least start going through older, unfinished poems as well as recently finished ones that I want to get sent out. I've been moping around dealing with health issues, the house, and gearing up for finishing my last semester at school (!). And I've let that hold me back a bit.
Today I'm wading through poetry - later this week, I hope to get through some of the fiction and nonfiction. I have so many ideas hidden away in the Notes app of my phone or scribbled on torn off pieces of paper. I still...
When I first got involved in writing, a lot of outlets tailored to that lifestyle were trying to tell me how to write.
Habits of "writers". Waking up at 4 am, writing by hand in a notebook, plotting out stories, having correspondence with other writers, keeping up some kind of social platform (both online and out in the real world). It was a lot to take in, and frustrating, because I wasn't meeting a lot of that criteria.
Part of the problem is that I'm a naturally shy person. I'm usually turned inwards - if I'm not at my day job, I can spend an entire day not speaking at all. I tend to day dream or mull things over. And not just once, but repeatedly. Rehash the past, replay scenarios. I'm quiet enough that I accidentally listen to other people's conversations, and when they're long gone I continue them in my own head. I create worlds for them and put them there to see what happens.
I think that's a decent part of what makes me a w...
I've read through the other stories and poetry in this Issue and I'm pretty happy to be included among them. The first story in particular drew me right in, even though I don't delve into fantasy too much anymore.
The story I have here, Soul Making, was actually written for a different prompt - fairy tales turned into horror. I love fairy tales so I gave it a shot, but while writing about the girl and the Beast it started to turn into something else (largely inspired by the quote from Swift that it begins with). So now it lives at Pulp Literature and I've included it here for anyone else who wants to read it.