TL;DR Press paired with Action Against Hunger, an international organization committed to supporting malnourished children and their families by beating hunger. 41 writers from around the world have contributed writings to this anthology: Hope. I am thrilled that my short poem, “Sitting with Emily,” is included. Thank you to the editors of TL;DR for including it and pushing this publication out into the world, and to Action Against Hunger for the important work they do to increase access to food sustainability.
Editor Sam Rose, from Northamptonshire, England, is the visionary behind Peeking Cat Literary. Over the years Peeking Cat has published both print anthologies and work online. Its website hosts a plethora of author interviews, along with a Speaking Cat Podcast, a newer aspect that I’m certainly interested in checking out. Throughout the years, my work has appeared both in print and online and Sam even took time to review my first collection of poetry, Something Yet to Be Named.
So it is always my pleasure when Peeking Cat continues to publish my writing. I am happy to share here the most recent two poems that Peeking Cat published in the fall of 2020, “No Postage Required” and “Life Force Energy.” Much gratitude to Sam and Peeking Cat poetry for continuing to publish writers from around the world.
Happy 2021, writing friends and readers!
I am happy to share that my first published writing of the year is through Red Alder Review. From their website:
Red Alder Review is an independent literary blog-based publication, operating on the unceded ancestral territories of the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Səl̓ílwətaʔ (Tsleil-Watuth) and Skwxwú7mesh (Squamish) Coast Salish peoples (Vancouver, BC). Editor: Michael Edwards
What better way to toe dip our way into the waters of a new year than through the publication of a haiku? It’s a fine testing of the water, and I am so very hopeful that this year gives us an open door out of the pandemic.
Thank you Michael Edwards for publishing this in the gathering of Mid-Winter Haiku.
I am thankful to Editor Matt Potter for including my poem, “Sunday, 10 Degrees Fahrenheit” in Pure Slush: Vol 19, Wrong Way, Go Back. Upon notice of this poem’s acceptance, I revisited my bookshelf to find I’ve actually published with this journal in a few issues. Pure Slush just recently celebrated its 10th birthday. Cheers to the next 10 years ahead!
Silkworm 13: Luck landed on my desk this fall. This journal is published by the Florence Poets Society out of Northampton, Massachusetts. This is the second opportunity I’ve had to publish work with Silkworm and in that is complete joy. It goes without saying that this is a fine publication filled with compelling readings. This collection begins with a quote by Emily Dickinson: “Luck is not chance — / It’s toil —”
But I also am drawn to this issue’s cover art, Coyote Song, by artist Lynn Sisler. Fantastic!
Much gratitude to the Florence Poets Society for offering “Surrender” a paper-paged home.
Feels Zine is an independent publication printed by Vide Press in Toronto, Canada.
Gathered in Issue 10: Loss are writings surrounding just that. As outlined by its editorial staff, “Whether it is our choice or not, there is a void we feel deep in ourselves when something, or someone, we carved space for is gone. How do we begin to process the absence? What happens when time and space don’t line up with our hearts and minds? In Issue 10, we explore the grief, sadness, anger, calm, and love that comes with loss.”
I’m delighted by this journal for a number of reasons: interesting paper quality, size, monochromatic design, smaller pages embedded within the journal’s overall standard page size. But I’m especially thankful that its editors provided a home for my poem, “Grief.”
I am overjoyed and humbled with the publication of Curating the House of Nostalgia (Sheila-Na-Gig Editions, 2020). This is my second full-length collection of poetry and third book.
It has been a labor of love to walk this one into the world. There are poems gathered here that were composed years ago in sweeter times – and others written through days more heartbreaking and challenging. Initially, I envisioned this collection to be one of grief and bereavement. What else could it be after the sudden death of a husband? In fact, when I first organized the manuscript under that tarp, it was titled Clutter & Scree – the things left behind, the rubble that proves difficult in which to establish firm footing. The poems then were largely too fresh, too close, too raw, and at a time I simply needed the motion and process of writing as one might need a trekking pole on a hike.
The manuscript as such did not initially get picked up. So, I pulled it apart, blue-taped the poems on the walls of an empty room at home, and spent a winter subtracting, adding, writing, revising, and organizing what would become Curating the House of Nostalgia. I aimed for better balance between between the two titles. The collection shifted from straight sorrow to envelop the beauty that ultimately embraces and occasionally overshadows heartache in one way or another, often in small ways. With each day comes night. What else could this manuscript be from a northern woman poet who refuses to claim the word widow? This shift was especially important as my now 14-year-old daughter and I continue to move forward in ways that are hopefully both spirited and healthy.
Like Cara Murray’s cover image (all heart by the way), What’s Left Behind, we were a family of three atop a mountain of blue stone memories and adventures that are irreplaceable. Perhaps those were our chairs. How does one sift through a bundle of poems to establish a path through both extreme joy and anguish? The collection is organized in six parts: Mountain, Clutter, Cataclysm, Astral, Juncture, and Epilogue. Once established, the curation commenced. Poetry, more or less, fell under a broader topic and the wayfinding became easier to muster.
I am especially thankful to Sheila-Na-Gig editor Haley Mitchell Haugen for believing in what that initial manuscript could become. Her support and reading eye have been instrumental in its progress. It has been a writing goal of mine for years to publish with Sheila-Na-Gig, to be part of the Sheila-Na-Gig family. A quick Google image search of this ancient Irish goddess might give you all the reason behind the why. She’s fierce.
Formally, the Gratitude page reads as such, and if you have a notion that you’re somehow included in that closing paragraph, well, you are.
Thank you to the Dyea Bradys (Jeff, Dorothy, and Annie) for their sharing of the Mary Jane cabin and forested space during my summer 2018 writing residency with Alderworks Alaska Writers & Artists Retreat. Thank you for offering me this place to put words in order and find a healing path.
I am further grateful to the Alaska Statewide Poetry Contest for placing “The Ungulate’s Jaw,” “Katie’s Cabin,” “Curios,” and “Curate.”
Heartfelt gratitude to my fellow editors, volunteers, and Alaska women writers at Alaska Women Speak, as well as Blue Canoe writers, along with my peers and professors through the University of Alaska Low-Residency MFA program. You have all been a source of inspiration, good ear, and offered sweet friendship throughout the years.
Thank you to artist Cara Jane Murray for recreating What’s Left Behind for cover placement. Special appreciation to poets Vivian Faith Prescott, Caroline Goodwin, and Carol Birrell for giving this collection a read and an endorsement, and to Sheila-Na-Gig editor, Hayley Mitchell Haugen, for moving this collection into the reading world.
To friends and family who have had my back these last few staggering years –– I dare not mention you by name, in case I inadvertently leave someone out. You have gifted me peace of mind and reunion with wildness. Thank you for blank books, caw-cawing at ravens, all-night dancing, gin & tonics, online Scrabbling, doorknob installing, garage emptying, tarot card reading, camping out, random texting, hitting the road, forget-me-not beading, Solstice celebrating, daughter cake baking, salmon-sharing, Bruce storytelling, shenanigans and crimes, Justin Trudeau hand-shaking, check-ins, last minute proofreading, and dearest greetings of well-being, hope, and resilience. My gratitude does not cover all I owe you in return.
Finally, I hope you get a chance to read this collection, and if you do, send me a note. I love talking poetry and how writing can sustain us no matter the challenge.