April was poetry month: winners and wrap up

31 revisions

Reader, National Poetry Month has passed us by. I’m excited to announce the winners of free poetry Margo Roby and Tara Rae Mulroy. Thanks to everyone who threw their name in the hat.

I know many poets who are heaving a sigh of relief this morning — no mandate to write a poem today. As for me, I counted up my revisions for the month of April and ended up with 31 (sometimes the Muse strikes in revision mode, you know; I never pass up a date with the Muse, so I did one extra). The thing I love about a poem-a-day (or, in my case, a revision-a-day) challenge is that it reminds us that having a focus can lead to real results. For April, my first priority after my morning reading and writing was revision. With the exception of one or two poems that are still knocked out on the operating table, I now have a stack of poems that are ready for the spit and polish. The one-a-day rate, whether drafting or revising, isn’t sustainable over a long period of time, but it’s good to make a push every now and then, isn’t it?

In other news, I’m very happy to have learned that my poem “Aubade For Peter Pan” received an honorable mention in the Tupelo Press Winter 2012 Poetry Project. You can read my poem and many other wonderful poems at this website.

From the Keeping It Real desk, we have news of a rejection or two and a grant proposal passed over. I’ve found that, over time, my skin is thickening. For one thing, I don’t expect to win anything the first time I try. For another, I’ve learned that submissions are, to a certain extent, a numbers game — the more you submit the more publications you’ll have. Sadly, I’ve submitted very little since January (must remedy! must remedy!). It helps, too, when the rejections are the good kind of rejection wherein one is asked to submit more work. Little nudges from the universe that say: Poet, persevere! And I shall.

Lastly a big thank you to Diane Lockward, who included links to my revision tips in the May edition of her poetry newsletter. If you aren’t receiving this newsletter, may I recommend that you sign up here (scroll down — the sign-up field is in the right hand margin). Every month Diane provides a book recommendation, a craft tip, and many useful poetry links. It’s a great resource for the working poet. Thanks again, Diane!

And now, Reader, May is Moving Month. It’s true. Currently the wee, small house is shrouded in a red tent and lethal gas — termites are a fact of life in this subtropical climate, and most houses are fumigated when they change hands. Husband asked me if I took a picture. Um, no. No, I don’t want a reminder that my house was filled with lethal gas and the entry sealed for three days. I suppose I’d better issue unto myself a box-a-day challenge. Yeah. We’ll see how that goes.

Happy end of poetry month, happy May Day, and happy Tuesday to all of you. Thanks, as always, for reading.

self-care for writers and parents

stop and smell the freesia

Reader, let’s talk about self-care. I’ve hesitated to title this piece, because, really, all of us need self-care — not just writers and parents. And some of us especially need self-care — those who work in professions where the needs and well-being of others are a primary concern: educators, child-care workers, doctors and nurses, spiritual directors, and so on down the line. But because I’m a writer and a parent, that’s the experience I can write from. Feel free to take what you can from this post and apply it to whatever life you live.

What is self-care? The word self comes from the Old English word for “one’s own person.” The word care comes from the Old English for “be anxious, grieve, feel concern or interest.” Let’s say, then, that self-care means to feel concern or interest for oneself.

You’ve heard the phrase, If mama ain’t happy ain’t nobody happy? Yeah. Pretty much true, and to be fair, I think the same is true for daddies. As parents, the fruits of our labors won’t be ripe for decades; and, indeed, our labors can only influence so much. Also, nobody is giving out promotions and raises to the parents of the world — there are few signposts that say, You’re doing great! Keep up the good work! Because parenthood is an emotionally demanding and long-term task, it’s important to keep our buckets full by taking good care of ourselves. As for writers: we work alone; we work with our inner critics’ voices whispering in our ears (I’ve named mine Spiteful Gillian just for fun); our work gets rejected nine times out of ten; ours is a long apprenticeship. Again, a little TLC seems called for here. I’ve learned the hard way that self-care is not an indulgence but a survival skill. Here are some thoughts about how to take good care of oneself:

move your body And move it, preferably, out of your usual environment. I’m not a big worker-outer, but lately I’ve been going for a brisk walk each morning. I also happen to have a day-job (motherhood) that requires a lot of physical effort (chop, dice, slice, juggle, wipe up, fold, sweep, you get the idea). What I’ve learned is that, when we dwell in our bodies for a while, sometimes the thing we’ve been wrestling with — the right word for line 10 of the sonnet, the best way to help the absentminded 10yo learn to remember things — will loosen itself out of one’s intuitive space and announce itself.

eat well  Yeah, yeah, I’m talking about the food pyramid, nine servings of fruits and veggies a day, sufficient calcium, and all that. But I’m also talking about eating things that will feed your soul. Your favorite dinner from when you were a kid. Warm oatmeal cookies. And, yes, I’m going to say it: gravy, people! It’s called comfort food for a reason — yes, dinner can actually make you feel tended, comforted. Treat yourself.

get enough rest  Do I sound like your mother yet? Well, she was right. The parents in the readership will recall (or, perhaps, are living through) the sleep-deprived years of babies and toddlers. We were dumb, for years. We fell asleep in the hair salon chair. We ran red lights (oops). None of us are at our best without enough rest. Special note for those of you still living through the sleep-deprived years, your mother was also right when she said, Sleep when the baby sleeps. Just sayin’.

talk nice to yourself (excuse my poor grammar) I just went out to the kitchen to refill my coffee, and here’s what I said to  myself, “Oh, Molly, your kitchen floor is an embarrassment.” Would I say that to a friend? No, I would not. I would, instead, say, “Look at this lady’s floor — she is obviously a wonderful person who has many people tracking through her kitchen and gathered around her table, and she’s not afraid to show it!” We’re raised to treat others the way we’d like to be treated. Let me add: treat yourself the way you’d treat a cherished friend.

do something nice for yourself  I’m talking about stopping to smell the roses, or if you’re in the Bay Area right now, may I recommend the freesia? I’m talking about taking a nice soak in the tub, putting your feet up for a half-hour, taking a break to listen to your favorite music. Are you the type that thrives on silence? Treat yourself to some today. Do you get energized in the buzz of a crowded room? Go out with friends sometime soon. At one time, I had a goal for myself to do something nice for myself every Thursday. Then it dawned on me: Hello!? Once a week is not enough! Put it on your to-do list: do something nice for yourself today.

ask for help  We Americans are supposed to be all self-sufficient and all that. Of course, none of us are. Yes, sometimes we have to pull ourselves up by our boot straps. Other times, we need to ask for help. Sometimes we need physical help: dear son, please fold this basket of towels; dear friend, could you grab some milk and T.P. for me when you’re at the store today? Sometimes we need emotional help: dear friend, will you imagine my future book on your bookshelf?; dear spouse, tell me I’m a good-enough mother. In the emotional help department, I also keep a file called Encouragement. That is where I file little notes that say nice things about me and/or my writing. When I’m discouraged, I open that file and read it out loud, and sure enough I start feeling better.

It’s Monday, Reader. The start of a new week. What can you do today, tomorrow, the next day, and all week, to take good care of yourself?

friday roundup – No Eden, keeping it real, and a very hardy tortoise

I will survive

Reader, I have been such a good mom this week! I volunteered at school two days AND baked cookies. That was fun and all, but I’m looking forward to returning to my underachiever mom status starting now. On to the roundup:

No Eden  This week I’ve been reading Sally Rosen Kindred’s No Eden. It’s a flood-and-torrent of a book that takes a good look at suffering. We begin in prayer, “Out of thorn-apple, out of love-apple, / out of bramble-fruit…” (from “Prayer for Mrs. Snead”) and move quickly into Flood, its “wolf-colored waves” and this question: “What / do you do with your arms / beneath a God gone this wrong?” (from “To Noah”). I have often wondered the same thing.

In some ways the book is also a coming of age tale, with poems of a girl “dangling out on a warped swing, / child of stooped dogwoods / and lilies that sing and sing // and never leave their beds” (“Twilight, 1974″); poems of adolescence: “We were thirteen, / viscous and secreting new warmth, / and this was why we were in love // with the earth, with its tender mass / of panting gratitude..” (“Earth Science); and poems of a grown woman still trying to make sense of things: “How long has this been my torn garden? / How long have I danced in the raven’s womb?” (oops: I forgot to cite the poem for this last quote in my original post; it is “My Body at Thirty is a Dark Horse”).

I’m enjoying the book for its re-imaginings of ancient stories, primarily from the Old Testament / Torah, and for the poems that give voice to the stories that didn’t make it into our collective literature, such as “Noah’s Wife Remembers.” I’m also reveling in the rich imagery and word play of the collection. For me, the word play becomes a statement unto itself that we don’t quite have the words to put to this world. And yet, the collection isn’t without hope. We end up on dry land with miracles and upturned faces (“Mercy on Pecos Road”).

I first came across Sally Rosen Kindred’s work in Cave Wall, one of my very favorite journals, and I’m glad I sought out her book. It’s a soulful, rewarding read.

keeping it real  Well, yes it was fun to celebrate a couple of recent publications over the last two weeks, but from the Keeping It Real Desk, we have this news: three rejections to tally this week. C’est la guerre, Reader, c’est la guerre.

and finally, a very hardy tortoise  Here’s a poem for your Friday: The Tortoise Survives the Fire by Lisa Allen Ortiz. This is a poem I go back to again and again. I hope you enjoy it, too. Happy Friday.

(Photo is public domain from wikimedia commons by Aaron Logan, from http://www.lightmatter.net/gallery/albums.php)