A decade of words

Today is the decade birthday of Oh My Foes!

August 10th, 2011, I posted my first blog. Here it is, if you want to revisit it too. Honestly, I can't read it without the compulsion to go back and edit. 😂 

I started this blog to reconnect with my craft and myself. I occasionally forget it exists (object permanence is a thing for ADHD people, look it up) but I always find my way back. I've been writing in this blog longer than I've known most of my platonic and romantic relationships outside of blood family.

My candle burns at both ends;
    It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
    It gives a lovely light!

I chose to name my poem after Edna St. Vincent Millay's famous poem, First Fig, because it's me. I'm the candle. I'll be 39 next month, and I'd like to think I've been learning ways to regulate my burn, but it's probably more accurate to say that age and chronic illness have been forcing me to slow down. 

I had big plans for this anniversary. I wanted to throw a reading in the park and invite all my friends. I wanted to bake them cupcakes and share my poetry. But the Delta variant had other ideas. The rest of Missouri is out there pretending like we aren't the literal epicenter of this variant, but I'm not interested in assisting Governor Parson's murder of unvaccinated folks, so that one went away. Honestly, it's also supposed to be like 97 F today and being outside sounds like hell, so I guess it's a win either way.

When I started this blog, I felt like all of my report cards growing up, "so much potential" but nothing to show for it. Of course, even then, that wasn't true. One of the things I have learned with this blog is that by tooting my own horn, I remind myself that I do get my work done. When you have a total of 1 billion project ideas a day, the fact that you accomplish only 1 feels like a failure, until you put some perspective on it: that one thing is the thing that stuck, that resonated and manifested, and now it's here and beautiful in its imperfection. So I don't give up. Grit. I just keep going, even (especially) when my go looks different than others' go.

Since I started this blog, I have written 3 books, published 1 chapbook, have another chapbook in the last stages of the works, I've explored/explore multiple avenues of sharing my writing. I give myself daily permission to suck but to also keep going. To be scared, but to take risks anyway. I frequently don't get the results I thought I would, but it always teaches me. 

Not all my poems are winners. Today's poem is not.

8-10-21

I day dream

About sleeping in the woods

Under the stars

But the reality is Ticks and sweat

Anyway, happy 10 year anniversary to myself. Current and future me are proud of past me for doing this. 

If you want to wish me and my decade old blog a happy anniversary, you can always buy us a cup of ko-fi. 👄💓

10 years of love, sweat, and tears,

Kit S

As always, if you like (love) this content and want to support my writing outside of the big bad projects, and read supporter-only content, you can buy me a cuppa at ko.fi. You can also purchase my chapbook & audible of poetry, a record of night at Amazon. If you're so inclined, you can also follow my author page at goodreads or follow me on Twitter. 

Please show me some love and leave a comment, review, or rating on any of these platforms! Have an awesome day, my friends.

I dreamt a dream

 Last night I dreamt that I consistently and regularly kept up with this blog. Of all the things for my subconscious to pick on me for, I'm going to put that up there as one of the more trivial.

Anyway, it's been a hot minute. My writing has been on a hiatus, which I'm starting to think is perpetual. Maybe I'm not a writer anymore? Or maybe I'm digging in the dirt before I plant the seed. Who knows? I have been thinking about starting a new project. I've spent a lot of time thinking about my perpetually unfinished trilogy and all the things that are problematic with it and I don't think I'm going to finish it? Or maybe I have to finish it to fix it? I honestly don't know and I think I've been stuck on that question for years, and that I've felt too guilty to start other projects after investing so much time into that one. I think it's time to move on. If I want to go back and work on it, I can, but until then I need to move on with my life because I can't stay in this void forever.

This is now. I am officially giving up on this trilogy. I'm moving on. And it's okay and it's the right (write) thing for me to do.

So I'm going to do NaNoWriMo this year and try to kick off a new project. IDK what it'll be, but it'll be fun to think of something new!

Our writing group hasn't met since pre-pandemic and everybody has gone quiet in our online group, so I've been missing my writerly community. 

So this all worked really well when I had a blog schedule. I'm not sure what knocked me off that schedule- it honestly could have been anything, but I'm going to start putting this blog back on my planner so it's not out of sight out of mind.

So goals & brainstorming:

• Self publish August chapbook from last year, woo!
• Start brainstorming a new book for November
• Participate in NaNoWriMo
• Blog Weekly, minimum
• Connect with other writers
• Reading goals!
• Listen to podcasts to stay motivated 
• Write something every day

Next week is the 10 year anniversary of my blog! WHAT THE HECK. A whole ass decade, y'all! I may try to do something special, so stay tuned! I may not... we'll see...

Byeeeeeeeee!

As always, if you like (love) this content and want to support my writing outside of the big bad projects, and read supporter-only content, you can buy me a cuppa at ko.fi. You can also purchase my chapbook & audible of poetry, a record of night at Amazon. If you're so inclined, you can also follow my author page at goodreads or follow me on Twitter. 

Please show me some love and leave a comment, review, or rating on any of these platforms! Have an awesome day, my friends.

A few months later...

Updates & rambling...

Do you all know that I have ADHD? This is not a joking ha ha ha flippant comment. I have it!

So at this point I'm sure it comes as no surprise that I haven't updated in a few months. I could lie to you and tell you it's because of all the projects I've been working on, but honestly? It's not. In fact, when I'm busy with writing projects, it normally triggers me to write in here. The truth is, this is just me, and a me that suffers from pretty hard depression in the Spring. 

Reading goalsssssssssss

My goals this year are pretty minimal- I think I've got a 2 books-a-month reading goal? I've kept up with it, more or less. Last month I was hyper focused and knocked both of my books out in a week. This month I got cocky and didn't start reading/listening to my audiobooks until far too late in the month. I also chose pretty hefty bois to read. (Oh hey, let's be friends on StoryGraph?)

Checked off my to-read list since Jan:

• The Water Dancer by Ta-Nehisi Coats
• Children of Virtue & Vengeance by Tomi Adeyemi
• Lumberjanes: The Moon is Up by Mariko Tamaki (I <3 YA and I'll fight you)
• How Long 'til Black Future Month? N.K. Jemisin
• How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi
• Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones
• The Craft of Love by EE Ottoman
• The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune

Currently working on:

• The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon
• The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

To write, we must read! So I'm trying to keep my brain meat sharp (ow).

And now... to talk about creating!

As far as writing goes... well... it's on and off. The pandemic has definitely made it worse, that's for sure. I wrote a collection of poems last August and have tried putting a manuscript together for it 3 times, 2 of which have been lost to laptops that gave up before me. The third I am actively and presently working on. Since I've decided to stop publishing through Amazon, I'm trying to find a new self publisher. Searching for self-publishing companies almost always sends me on a former English major spiral of 1) imposter syndrome, BIG TIME 2) snobbery regarding self publishing (which I pretty much exclusively do, so wtf brain) and 3) General Anxiety & Overwhelmednessery.

I'm not sure I'll ever let my current novels see the light of day. There are some problematic corners I've written myself into and also? I can't reiterate enough how re-reading the novel I wrote post-concussion is like pulling teeth. Like ok. Brain injury and still tryna get them words on the page. I might just scratch them and start over fresh this year. But should I scratch a three book project because I don't like 1.5 of the books? Is this more imposter syndrome? Hello, this is just a brief glimpse into the deep well of overthinking I've done about these books over the past 5 years. I do think I still want to pursue a real publisher this year? But also maybe not. I don't fucking know. I am in book limbo. 

I also can't shake the feeling that I'm a much better poet than prose writer. I also learned that there are a whole bunch of people who think in like pictures? Like their thoughts while they're writing are like they're in a movie of everything happening, and I mostly think in words and I wonder if that stunts my ability to write prose? IDK. 

I knit A LOT of hats this winter, crocheted Ugly Blanket Jr. for my brother, made some tie dye stuff with my partner, started and ditched so many projects I can't keep track of them all. We added several giant containers to our veggie garden and the flowers came in like a goddamn beautiful, messy English garden (look!)

  

 

So I guess I don't really know what my writing goals are for this year (and we're 5 months in, yikes!) but I am trying really hard to get this second book of poetry out. It might end up going through Amazon again, just because it seems like they're the best for self publishing rn and the body of my poetry has already been through them. I just hate the idea of Jeff Bezos profiting off of my money- to be fair, the amount I sell books of poetry is just so miniscule. I'm pretty sure he makes more money in the time it takes to sneeze. Honestly, at my normal people job, I think I probably make more money in the time it takes to sneeze than I have off of self publishing. So meh? Does it matter? IDK, that's a thought for overthinking Kit to ponder later, then again, and possibly a third time, definitely a few times in a row while trying to sleep.

Our writing group seems to be hibernating. I hope it can find some life again soon. It ebbs and flows and I'm okay with that... I do too. 

Listening...

So I listen off and on to the podcast Start with This. SwT is accessible and frequently very motivating. Joseph & Jeffrey have a pretty good banter vibe and the writing prompts are helpful. I like how they structure it all, too. Do I do the prompts every time? Absolutely not, that's a level of consistency I would need to be medicated to achieve. Just keeping it real, y'all.

I've tried several other podcasts, but it seems like most of the writing podcasts I've found are too academic to keep my interest. Don't get me wrong, I was a baby academic in the throes of snobbery back in college, but that cost me a lot of money and put me in over a decades worth of debt that I could barely juggle and survive (and wouldn't have, if not for the love and help of friends and family). I'm not paying somebody to bore me death again. Fool me once, shame and debt on me, Fool me twice, well fuck, I just can't afford it. 

But if anybody is reading this and they have some good suggestions, I'd love to give them a try. 

So I guess that's a pretty good general update/ramblebramble. I hope everybody is having a fabulous week and I'll write at y'all again soon. Promise!

Love and rainy days,

Kit

As always, if you like (love) this content and want to support my writing outside of the big bad projects, and read supporter-only content, you can buy me a cuppa at ko.fi. You can also purchase my chapbook & audible of poetry, a record of night at Amazon. If you're so inclined, you can also follow my author page at goodreads or follow me on Twitter. 

Please show me some love and leave a comment, review, or rating on any of these platforms! Have an awesome day, my friends.

Spoopy season into turkey days...

Hey friends, enemies, thememies, and rabble rousers! 

I'm so proud to say that I was able to complete the August project, available on ko-fi.com/kitsteitz! 

Not only did I complete it, but I reached it at 270%. WOAH. That shit is humbling and I am deeply honored. You can still contribute and see the daily poems in August. Only 2 were missed for health reasons, a pretty impressive feat for a human with chronic pain and illness. There will be a treat for those who contributed to the August project in the next week or so, so stay tuned!

What's up? What's going on in the next few months? I'm so glad I asked. September is for reading and book reviews, so please expect at least one! I really want to dive into my to-read pile and my birthday month seems like a good time to get to it!

October is for #drawtober, y'all. #inktober has been canceled due to the shitty actions (copyrighting the # and c&ds for artists selling their own art & plagiarism controversy) of it's creator. So I'm going to try jumping into the inky waters again. I created my own gay prompts! You're welcome to use my prompts, too! And hey, tag me or link me to your art!! I'd love to see them <3. I promise I won't publish them or a book about them like Jake Parker. Also, hey, not copyrighting an actual hashtag because I'm not a monster. I'll make the prompt list prettier as we get closer!

I was thinking it would be cool to purchase Alphonso Dunn's book on inking to really work on some improvement throughout the month! I might make this another ko-fi project. What do y'all think?

And y'all know what November is for... November is for noveling. Will this be the year I finish my unseen queer fantasy trilogy? OH MY DOG I HOPE SO. Also, turkey. I will eat lots of fowl this month. There are few things better than cold next-day turkey sandwiches. 

Getting back into my creative vibes, friends. Hope you are doing okay and staying safe this pandemic. I love you.

Your favorite weirdo I don't want to be presumptuous!

A weirdo,

Kitikins

PS

Hey friends! Thanks for reading my blog. I hope you liked it. It's free for you to read, but I still gotta make a living! 

If you liked this content, please leave me a comment because feedback is rad, or buy me a cup of coffee on www.ko-fi.com/kitsteitz, because paying the bills is rad.

Thoughts on self publishing and all this stuff

I'm two days into August and my poetry challenge on Ko-Fi. My goal is to get a cuppa donated once a day but we'll see how reasonable that is. 

I have NO idea how to increase my audience, or garner an engaged audience, so I've just started posting to twitter and fb and hoping something comes out of it. It's difficult, because I've kept this blog since 2011 and I still don't have regular readers or commenters. I feel like I'm just writing into the void. Of course I've internalized it and told myself it's because I'm a crap person, writer, poet, and people just intrinsically pick up on that. 

"Why even post, it's already failed."

"Nobody engages with these posts, let alone goes to the text. I should give up now."

"Give upon this project. Nobody cares."

"Nobody cares because you don't have anything new to say, and you don't say it in a new way."

"People don't care about poetry or reading, let alone reading some no-name."

"You haven't don't this a traditional way, so folks will just assume it's vanity without substance."

Woo, it feels real vulnerable to actually type all of that out. These stories feel true to me and I'm not sure how to re-frame them, but I'm working on it because I do give up and quit because of these stories. At least once a year, I completely give up because what's the point. And then I read professional writer's blogs to hype myself up, about how I should be writing to be a writer (typically very prescriptive) and that reinforces my internal narrative that I'm a fake, that I don't know what I'm doing, and that I will never be even moderately successful. 

To counter this internal narrative, I know intellectually I'm dealing with a lot of impostor syndrome. Don't know what that is? It sucks and many folks who have been raised outside of white, heteronormative, dude privilege know about this and experience it on a very deeply ingrained level.

I also think there's some other stuff going into these internal narratives... like how the idea that if I work hard, I'll be successful is so deeply ingrained in Americans. Even though it's just capitalist propaganda that bears no relevance to most of us, I've definitely internalized that, as well as many, many other Americans.  So if I'm not successful, it's my fault for not working hard enough, not producing a good product, or generally doing something wrong. 

If you're reading this, thank you. I want to be clear that I'm not trying to guilt or shame anybody into supporting me- and that concern is a large reason why I haven't been open with this struggle. I want folks to read my writing because it's good and they get something from it, not because they feel bad for me. Oh my dog, please don't ever do that. 

I don't know how to end this. I guess, that's just what's going on with me, y'all. Thanks for bearing with me for this post <3 I'll keep writing, keep posting, keep going regardless. 

 

Dog days of summer, Pandemic edition

Dog Summer~

Kiera in a sunbeam,
ear twitch, joy,
nose wiggle,
so many smells!

Hello, my readers! It's days away from August and we're hip deep in a Pandemic. Here in Missouri, very few people have given any fucks and we are left with rocketing numbers of positive Covid-19 cases, so our family is very home-bound. Between furlough and telecommuting, our family has created 2 new flower beds and installed our first victory garden! I have phlox and gladiolas blooming, tomatoes ripening, and a new sense of general okayedness. As I write this, I'm sitting in the afternoon shade on my back porch- Keira is begging to be let in and the air conditioning unit is louder than my music, but all and all, it's pretty alright.

There are a few big creative projects on the horizon that I'm excited to share SOON. Not yet, but SOON.

One is a silly podcast that can best be described as lowfi, low key, and low-brow. But shhhhh! That's not public yet!!

I've slowly updated my various writing profiles to include my new name, pronouns, and information, and working on republishing my chapbook a record of night. I'm an OKAY novelist, but I'm a damn good poet, so keep alert for the big reveal! New name, new cover, new forward, same love <3

And a project so hush hush I can't even hint about it, but I AM SO EXCITED I WILL LEAVE THE CAPSLOCK ON. I can't wait to share it with y'all.

Hope y'all are doing your best during this shitty period in our history.

Love and future vaccines,
Kit

A Cold Day in Misery

I love my home state, but Missouri's windchill has dropped down into negative numbers and my snot froze after 10 seconds outside. Needless to say (but I'm going to say it anyway) I am not down for these temps. I did not write a poem about frozen snot. Yet.

Which brings me to a random thought. Do you remember that song by Greenday that came out "Misery" (I linked it so you can get re-acquainted). I spent a good portion of my senior year thinking that they were singing about Missouri. Now I sing it as Missouri because it makes me giggle.

Updates on the Writing Front:

• I goofed around, so not a lot of change.
• This weeks goals: work on novel, knock out a poem (maybe it will be about frozen snot).
• Blog some more. Oh, I had a great idea for a blog before I went to sleep last night. Maybe I will even remember it for later in the week!
• Do one of my LJ read-alongs and send it to my small audience. 
• Maybe I should do some YouTube videos for some of my poems? That would be fun. Must charge the tablet tonight.
• Tonight I'm building a blanket fort to write in and encouraging my writing workshop to do the same. Pics on the next blog! 

What I'm reading:

[The cover of Brene Brown's book, Daring Greatly]

I just picked up Brene Brown's Daring Greatly (I won it during Booksgiving). I already love the first chapter. She is a fabulous writer, and I think her work with vulnerability is so powerful. I know I deal with a lot of fear around my writing. Fear that I'm not good enough, that even if I was good enough, I don't have the social savvy to network and find a good agent. Fear to try, fear to try and fail, fear to try and succeed. I'm basically terrified of the things I love doing the most in the world.

[The cover of Deborah Harkness' book, Time's Convert]

I'm about halfway through Deborah Harkness' Time's Convert. I love her writing! It's been exciting to watch how it evolved through the All Souls trilogy, and this is crafted beautifully. Her details are lush, her characters are interesting. I'm definitely here for it. If you're a fan of vamps, history, and love stories, you should check it out too!

December shmamember

Well, 2017 has been quite a shit year,  if you will pardon my language. However, I am close to finishing the second book of my Prophecy series and someday another person might read it. #goals

I took the Facebook app off my phone and I'm hoping that helps me accomplish a bit better balance in my life.

May the muse be with you and your own never dry.

May next year kick 2017s ass.

IT CAME IN

I am finally the proud owner of Throne of Jade: book 2 in the Temeraire series by Naomi Novik. Suck on that universe!

POW.

I am contemplating making a Facebook profile for myself so I can post about blogs. This seems like a logical thing to do. I am having a difficult time taking myself seriously enough to do this... but it will probably end up happening! So, please look forward to that, my readers.

I actually am not even sure I believe that anybody reads my blog. Like, Blogger statistics say folks do, but like, I just don't believe it.

Ask me something. Anything. I will answer it in the form of flash fiction.

On this, a balmy spring day

When Melissa proposed to me, the final time (the time I accepted), we chose the date for May, because I hate heat and wanted to have a cool, gorgeous, flowery outdoor wedding. May 19th rolled around and it was positively simmering. I put on the most perfect wedding dress, sweat through my hairspray and curls, and married the love of my life. On our honey moon, I threw my back out dragging our canoe through a low river in Northern Arkansas. That year, we had a drought so intense that the state was tapping private wells and we were all sweaty and gross for a while. While this is a feeling that is not unfamiliar in Missouri, we generally get a fairly nice spring. It didn't matter- I was in love, sweaty, and happy.

7 years later, separated from Melissa, we have another truly hot spring. There's symmetry in that, perhaps. I took grumpy old Missy, an old black Terrier+Pomeranian mix, and Mr. Man, my middle-aged chihuahua for a hike around Bear Creek and we were all panting by the time we got back to the truck. The sadness comes and goes. There are still so many things that make me happy (comics, my puppies, my family, my best friend and non-nesting partner Abbey, writing, naps, roller skating, hiking, canoeing, bad puns, etc., etc.) but I feel like this is almost vindictive heat, or bookender heat. This is the end of the shelf. Seven years of stories are contained between these heat waves. This collection of stories is complete.

Today I celebrated faux Easter with my brother, his fiance, the kids, my Aunt, and my mother. We dressed up and went to breakfast. I wore the skirt I wore to my first wedding in Iowa because it is my favorite spring skirt- a pattern that looks like pastel fireworks or chrysanthemums, my pearls from our Missouri wedding made by my maid of honor, and a ring Mel bought me in Eureka Springs. I wore them because they are beautiful things that stay with me, even though we've reached the end of the bookshelf. I have more bookshelves. I will love other stories. I will find other rings that fit me. But I will miss the life we had together. I will miss the dreams we built together, the adventures we had. I will miss how she would follow me around the house with her guitar, playing Heart. I will miss our road trips. I will miss the softness of her kiss, the feeling of her breath against my neck. I will miss her goulash. I will miss how joyful she was when she found a box of Pączki. And that's okay, I guess. 

Time to write. I promise I won't break up my main characters just because I'm sad. I almost did, but I won't. 

In the land of practical writing notes 

1. Our writing workshop has jumped back to life! This has been a source of joy and inspiration to me and I hope all the amazing folks who have recently joined us!
2. My novel is coming along. Word to the wise: do not buy a stack of comics right before an intense writing period. It will delay your writing. 
3. Facebook is not good for productivity- which I feel is a lesson I never learn.
4. Oh, I'm going to write another guest post for Shores of Night! Woot!

Hard choices...

I CHOOSE

to finish the book. Poetry will come when it's right.

And yet, I have not made the time to write, as I promised myself I would.

There is still time, and no giving up. Stubborn is my name, persistent is my game.

Here is my list of things I have done instead of honoring my writing routine.                        

1. Buy a bunch of new comics
2. Sudden family visits that kick you out of your writing space and disrupt your schedule.
3. Talking instead of writing at your write-in
4. Reading a bunch of new comics
5. Watching the release of season 2 of Bubblegum (so awesome)
6. Sleeping (but I have been recovering from being sick)
7. Taking day trips to fabulous places 

Must get my head in the game. Fun is for when I'm done. 

Plus, I'm about to get to an assassination attempt and some big reveals, and I finally got past the boring scene that made me want to jump off a cliff. Secret: I always skip diplomatic/strategic sessions in books until I get to fighting.

Dig in

Double down

Time to get gritty

Sunday morning rambling...

fueled by coffee and copious amounts of allergy meds. Thank you, gods of Zyrtec, Mucinex, Nasopure, & Flonase. #humble

No decision on if I will do poetry or prose in April. I'm leaning towards Prose so I can just knock the rest of this book outta the water.

On the topic of poetry and life~

So, blog land, big things have happened in my life. I've moved in with my mother and aunt. The two gingers (Genghis Khan and Roy) and the chihuahua (Mr. Man aka Chicken Nugget) have moved with me. I'm sure I'll find some poetry to come at this, but for now, I've been focusing on just like... humaning. Meanwhile, in moving my books (to their glorious and gorgeous new bookshelves) I found my dearest book, Sweet Geometry by Pamela McClure. I don't think it's a mistake that Pam's poetry found me at this time in my life.

I just wanted to share some of her words. 

http://www.suttonhoopress.com/Books/McLureSweet.html

The Dilemma: writer style

Y'all know how I love challenges, right? Love them. Guess what's coming up in April? You know it, you love it, it's National Poetry Month! The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a poem a day.

You know what else it is?

Camp NaNo.

What is a girl to do? WHAT IS A UNICORN TO DO?

Poetry

or Prose

POETRY OR PROSE

POETRY
OR
PROSE

WHAAAAAAAT SHOULD I DOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

#betweentwoworlds

Every year, with the best intentions...

I don't know why I think I will be a prolific blogger. Sometimes I have a lot to say about writing, other days I'm stuck in the cycle that seems to define so many 30 somethings: work, hobby, sleep, rinse, wash, repeat. It doesn't feel very... creatively fecund.

I also sustained minor brain damage and whiplash earlier this month, and have had difficulty reading and tracking across a page. So, I'm sure that didn't help.

I really enjoy writing prose. Not sure I ever thought I would say that. Random thoughts about writing prose:

• I've worked in healthcare so long that I accidentally write passive sentences all the time and don't even realize I've done it.
• I don't really give a shit about ending sentences in prepositions. It doesn't really bother me. Really.
• I love sentence fragments, though!
• I enjoy getting obsessively lost in worlds I've created and entirely in my own imagination, which I think must be what hubris feels like. Sorry, invisible spaghetti god.

Oh, I made myself a new writing room! My wife calls it my mancave, which amuses me. 

Anyway, I got into a fight with Abbey about how old I am tonight. It was mostly playful but she was right and I am a year older than I thought, and I may have cried a little bit on the way home. This undoubtedly brought me to the conclusion that I need to be writing more, because WHERE IS MY LIFE GOING??? IT IS JUST ESCAPING ME! Must write more. Must write more. Other people are having babies. I need to birth this trilogy, man. Or maybe it will end up just being one fuck all long ass book. Whatever! I live dangerously.

Next blog: coming sometime in the near future. Perhaps it will have content besides rambling. 

Peace out, friends. 

At a loss for words

This has been a tough week in my life, for a myriad of personal reasons. It feels like my poetry this week is struggling around some of these things, and I haven't quite hit the words, but I'm working on it. Maybe it isn't the words, but finding a way to really look at the emotions, at the feelings, and convey them with a punch. It would be nice to punch something. With words. Like a grown ass woman.

Here's to a fresh week, my friends. May your words flow like wine, your wine flow like water, and your water be lead-free.

Goal setting, writing, the New Year

Goals for this upcoming year:

Write!

Write!

Write!

Derby!

Derby!

Write!

Derby!

Derby! Derby!

Write.

Maybe publish? Eh? :/

But seriously, I have a bunch of stories I want to get out- so I am delving into prose again, this year- but also, I'm going to keep this little guy updated more regularly! I enjoy talking to myself in public, which is basically what this blog is...

If you do follow my writing blog, feel free to comment or pitch in whenever you'd like! I love engaging with my readers and all feedback is welcome. Unless you're a dick, then obviously I'll respond negatively. Keep it constructive or gtfo.

In 2015, I participated in NaNoWriMo: started and finished a book. Ambitiously, I'm hoping to knock out the second book this year and start on a third from the same fantasy world. I also have some poetry to work on, so I'm going to try to keep this steam rolling.

My intention is to get a blog post up at least once a week (Sunday, but that's not strict) and to do a 5 in 5 challenge once a month (5 poems in 5 days). 

Write at you, soon.

Happy 2016, or whatever

"Everyone lies about writing. They lie about how easy it is or how hard it was. They perpetuate a romantic idea that writing is some beautiful experience that takes place in an architectural room filled with leather novels and chai tea. They talk about their "morning ritual" and how they "dress for writiing" and the cabin in Big Sur where they go to "be alone" -blah blah blah. No one tells the truth about writing a book. Authors pretend their stories were always shiny and perfect and just waiting to be written. The truth is, writing is this: hard and boring and occasionally great but usually not. Even I have lied about writing. I have told people that writing this book has been like brushing away dirt from a fossil. What a load of shit. It has been like hacking away at a freezer with a screwdriver."

~Amy Poehler, Yes Please

I had a wonderful conversation with one of my teammates last night, somewhere before or after midnight. We were talking about roller derby and how there are moments that are sparkly and wonderful and you want to scream "Yeah buddy! I did a thing!" but for the most part, it's hard and sometimes you just want to sit down and cry for hours because you just can't get it. Then I started reading Yes Please, a badass Christmas present from my brother-in-law, and I was like YES. THIS. There are some life lessons and shit right there.

Shit is mostly hard and boring, but because you slog through you get to create and witness something that makes all of it worthwhile.

So last year was mostly shit, but I wrote another book! Yessss. It was mostly poorly done, but it is finished and the next one will be better because I got through the first one and I learned some shit.

Hope y'all learned some shit this past year and that next year you have at least one Hell Yes moment.

Are you a real writer?

One of the most common thing I hear my friends say: "I'm just waiting for somebody to figure out that I have no idea what I'm doing."

I mean, we can all relate to that, right? Especially writers and poets. We struggle to make ourselves heard, we seek legitimacy in fields that are often not recognized for their importance or ingenuity because the quantifiable components that can yield a good piece of art or writing are constantly shifting and always debatable. You can't nail down a rubric to excellence; you have to be able to recognize the fundamentals but see how they create new and different things. And then sometimes the old standard is new again or at least it's a nice break from experimental work. We feel like frauds for so many reasons.

So why do we continue? Why do I continue? I ask myself this all of the time. All of the time. You probably do, too. I've written poetry and stories since I can remember writing. When I was a kid, I would write short stories and roll them up and put them in a little toy metal safe. When I was a teenager, I wrote on a hand-me-down IBM computer that consistently lost my data. I have more notebooks and sketchbooks then cookbooks. It's a compulsion. I don't have an answer. I justify art, writing, music with a lot of high art BS, but when it comes down to it, I do it because I like it. I read it or listen to it because it brings me joy. People don't write because they'll make money; too few of us end up paying the bills with our words.

So, are you a real writer? Do you write?

Then yes. You are a real writer.

Pursue your passion and fuck the rest.

Thoughts on a rainy Monday

There are many invisible paths of writers. When we're not writing, we're cultivating the earth; building experience, emotion, language. When we're not writing or editing, we're thinking, reading, exploring. When I'm not writing, I'm in hibernation, in the fat of winter thoughts.

Today, I read on P&W:

Meanwhile, after nearly a decade of decreasing print books sales in the United States, it appears that print may be making a comeback. A recent report from Nielsen BookScan reveals that sales of physical books in the United States have increased from 559 million in 2014 to 571 million in 2015. (Quartz)

That's so exciting! Books are rad. People are finding their way back to the printed (or e-printed?) page. Totally rocks my Monday socks, which were feeling a little boggy-soggy.

I've been thinking a lot about how and why I published my first chapbook through Amazon and how I feel about having only an electric copy available. With prose, the electronic format is fairly satisfying, but I don't think I care for it as a format for poetry. It is too cold. I think the tactile nature of books is an integral part of the experience. Am I being too stodgy? Perhaps. This is an emotional reaction, not a logical one- but what's more pertinent to poetry than emotion besides craft?

What does love have to do with it?

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we can blog from phones now.

New media new words new sentences.

I'm trying to adapt. 

I really admire how Eileen Myles writes to her blog. She is fearless.

Are blogs the new vanity press? Obviously. And by new, I mean less than 100 years old, not in the last decade.