Reading and Retrospective

First, Reading.
Those of you who have been reading here for a while may remember that I always post a list of books read in each year. Although I have lower than usual confidence in my record-keeping for the wild and crazy 2011, here's the list (and please forgive me for not properly formatting titles):

At Home: A Brief History of Private Life by Bill Bryson
Adam and Eve a novel by Sena Jeter Naslund
A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson
Blood Almanac poems by Sandy Longhorn
Threshold poems by Jennifer Richter
Rookery poems by Traci Brimhall
The First Four Books poems by Louise Gluck
Gilead a novel by Marilynne Robinson
Housekeeping a novel by Marilynne Robinson
The Forgotten Garden a novel by Kate Morton
Wuthering Heights a novel by Emily Bronte
A Room with a View a novel by E.M. Forster
Pearl of China a novel by Anchee Min
Rebecca a novel by Daphne duMaurier
The House at Riverton a novel by Kate Morton
Sacred Hearts a novel by Sarah Dunant
A Gate at the Stair a novel by Lorrie Moore
Private Life a novel by Jane Smiley
Queen Bee Moms and King Pin Dads by Rosalind Wiseman
Heart's West: True Stories of Mail-Order Brides on the Frontier by Chris Enss
The Beekeeper's Apprentice a novel by Laurie King
Today's Special Dish poems by Nina Lindsay
A Reliable Wife a novel by Robert Goolrick
The Price of Privilege by Madeline Levine
WAIT poems by Alison Stine
The Everything Tween Book by Linda Sonna
Selected Poems by H.D.
Colosseum poems by Katie Ford
When Will There Be Good News? a novel by Kate Atkinson
The Stone Diaries by Carol Shields

up next:

No Eden poems by Sally Rosen Kindred, and
Death Comes to Pemberley a novel by P.D. James

And now, Retrospective.
Reader, Both Fires is almost three years old. My how time flies.

In those three years of my life as mother, we've gone from little ones, to big-ish ones; from the bird theater to exclamations of "Epic fail!" and "Whatever." (Oh, how I detest 'whatever.').

In those three years of my life as writer, we've gone from the fledgling poet just trying to connect to the world of poetry a bit, to the still-fledgling poet who is now sending out her work on a regular basis and sometimes even getting acceptances; from the mom who felt guilty taking time off to write, to the writer who knows her children will be better and stronger because she pursues her own creative life without apology.

In those three years of my life as person, we've gone from the teeny tiny woman (who, I'm glad to tell you, doesn't live here anymore) to a gal who, yes, has a chronic illness but who now has the right meds and a clearer diagnosis, and who can see her illness more as a sculpting life force than an invisible box.

I've enjoyed writing here, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading.

Starting tomorrow, I invite you to join me at the stanza, where the story of mother, of writer, of person, poet and pilgrim, will continue. I hope to see you there.

Reader, I wish you peace, joy, and everything wonderful in 2012 and beyond.

Takin' This Show on the Road

at our friendly neighborhood CalTrain station

I'm considering a new tag line for my life: "have poems, will travel" (other contenders: "all times approximate" and "warning: introvert - approach at your own risk." This last one is my favorite for Kinder pick-up time).

Lately, I've been putting some feelers out into the Bay Area poetry scene, hoping to find other poets and make some connections. Because I'm naturally shy, and thanks to the librarian voice in my head that keeps saying, 'but you're not a REAL poet,' I have had to put on my brave heart in order to enter these waters.

But, gladly, my efforts have panned out.

The first connection I made was with Laura E. Davis who blogs at Dear Outer Space. I first crossed paths (virtually speaking) with Laura when I came across Weave Magazine, the literary journal she founded (how cool is that, by the way!? She started her own journal!). I bought an issue or two of Weave, and really liked what I read there. Then, last summer, I was reading through Adanna where one of my poems had landed, and came across another poem I really liked, noted that the author's name sounded familiar, but I wasn't sure why. Enter the rabbit hole of poetry blogs..... a month later, I came across a link to Laura's blog on another poetry blog, and finally put the puzzle together: this was the Laura E. Davis of Weave, and she had just moved to the Bay Area, too! Coincidence? I'd like to think not. Anyway, long story longer, Laura and I exchanged e-mails and decided to work together, exchanging poems and information, etc. Our first meeting was last month; our second will be this Sunday. We meet at The Creamery near the CalTrain station in San Francisco. I'm thrilled to have found a poetry pal, and excited to work with Laura, whose writing is beautiful and exciting, and whose journal you should read.

Another connection came to me through a class I'm taking from Molly Fisk (the class, by the way, is called "Getting Your Work Out" and it has really helped me to commit to a more regular practice of submitting my work to journals). Molly forwarded me an e-mail that had been circulating through poetry circles about a group in Berkeley that was looking for a new member. I decided to send my work to the group to see if I might have a shot at joining them. Last week, they invited me to come to the next meeting to see if we're a good fit (me for them and them for me). Berkeley is a bit of a hike from our little peninsula town, but I'm hoping it will all work out, and if not, at least I've made a tentative connection with a few more Bay Area poets.

And speaking of taking the show on the road, I wanted to let you in on a little secret: For the past few months I've been working on building a new blog -- one that's a bit more dedicated to poetry, out of respect for my kids' growing sense of self and privacy. I'll be making the transition in the next few weeks, and will definitely let you know when my new blog is live. Meanwhile, the Mom Trying to Write still has a few things to say about motherhood, so I'll be blogging here for at least a little while longer. I hope that you'll follow me over to the stanza: a little room for poetry & the writing life when I make the switch. Feel free to take a sneak peek now, if you like (not that there's much to peek at).

And now, I must take another show on the road. There is a "Cultural Heritage Luncheon" for Sister's Kinder class today (gripemumblemumblegripemumblemumble). When I asked her what kind of food she wanted me to bring, I was filled with fear. We are Scottish and Irish. Would I have to learn how to cook haggis or mutton stew? You just have to love a little girl whose answer was, "Hot dogs and beans, Mama! Hot dogs and beans!" That, I can handle. In less than an hour, I'll be pulling the hot dogs and beans down the block in our little red wagon.

Happy trails to you today, Reader.

Submismash

My combo coffee table/workspace and our goofy pumpkin, Lester

To that, I say, "Yes!"

(P.S. non-writers: Submishmash is an online submissions manager that many journals use as a portal for writers submitting work).

By which I mean submitting is always a mish-mash for me.

First it is a mish-mash of voices that say things like:
--You thought this poem was interesting, but it's boring.
--It seemed decent when you were working on it, but it's not.
--This journal will never publish your work.

And so on down the line. I have recently learned a strategy for shushing those voices. Here's what you do:

Step 1 - Acknowledge the kernel of truth in the statement: "It's true, this journal only accepts 2% of submissions."
Step 2 - Tell what is not true in the statement: "You never know when your poem is going to strike someone's fancy, so it's worth a shot."
Step 3 - Say what is also true: "It's also true that they'll never publish my work if I never send it to them."

This nifty process helps a lot (btw, I'm teaching it to my kids as a strategy for managing negative self-talk, too!).

But then there is a mish-mash of poems: which to submit to what journals, trying to match poem to aesthetic, creating little mini-manuscripts of poems that play well together. Can the Mail Order Bride go with Isis? Does the spider belong with the East Foothills?

And then there is a mish-mash of submissions guidelines, which are all slightly different: contact info on the poem, contact info not on the poem, contact info in an e-mail, attachments only, poems in the text of the e-mail only, paper submissions only please no paperclips. I read them all out loud in an effort to make sure I'm not missing anything, but I'm sure I've missed something once in a while. And how about the snarky guidelines like (real examples): "Don't send us your first drafts." "Don't send your work on a used napkin." "You're not Ginsberg." "Five means five. Five is not the new six." I get that editors probably see everything, but my guess is that most writers are submitting their best work in a professional manner, and the snark feels patronizing to me. My approach is not to submit to journals with snarky guidelines (even though I probably can't afford to be that selective).

And then there is the mish-mash of technical glitches. We've all had e-mails that completely disappear into the ether. We've all had the formatting of something go wrong because of tags inserted in an e-mail program. This doesn't bother me in my regular life, but it worries me in my writing life. Just this month I had an e-mail that I sent to an editor of a journal go missing. When I followed up with her, she said she had never received it. Yet there it was in my sent-mail folder. I re-sent. I know this can happen with snail mail, too, but frankly that's no comfort!

And then there is the mish-mash of trying to submit poems in a house where children live. "DON'T STEP ON THAT PILE OF PAPERS!!!!!!!!!!" (Which reminds me, they will be home any minute. Today is the weekly "minimum day" -- a half-day of school every Thursday. I kid you not. My dad asked this morning if mothers ever get minimum days and I cackled just a little too loud and maniacally).

But then there is the moment of calm when the deal is done. The 'send' button has been hit. You've kissed the stamp and put it in the mail box, the kind you can't reach back into to take something out. Your poems are out there on a journey. You hope they do okay, and you go back inside to file, to neaten up the mish-mash until next time.

I confess, I would almost always rather write and create than submit and file. But I know submitting is part of the job. I've been trying to do more and more of it.

And even though it's a mish-mash, there are sometimes the sweet rewards. I'm happy to say I'll have a poem in the next volume of CALYX.

Whatever mish-mash you encounter today, Reader, may it have its own sweet reward.