It is not my style to openly confess my sins—of which I am fully aware there are plenty and then some and perennially good at …
Miss Scarlet makes it to finalist in a first book competition…
Miss Scarlet makes it to finalist in a first book competition a.k.a., yet again the bridesmaid, never the bride? Seriously, not at all a bad thing that my poetry manuscript, Miss Scarlet in the Library with a Rope, made it to finalist in the 2013 Crab Orchard Series in Poetry First Book Award
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Pushcart Prize Nomination!
Photo by Forest Wander Blood Orange Review nominated my sestina with the very long title (and liberal use of ampersands!) — “The Winter We Lived …
Read, Revise, Read, Repeat
Take a measly little pone of a poem written, oh, seven or eight months back. One that’s been sitting, gathering moss, and that you’re certain is nothing not something. When you wake up, fresh, read it over again, and maybe again.
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Back from Poetry Camp
I am just back from a week at the Port Townsend Writers’ Conference at Fort Worden, a Washington State Park and yes, where they filmed parts of An Officer and a Gentleman way back when…
Started in 1974—and attended by many writing rock stars, beginners who became writing rock stars, and humble beginners—…
Nom de Plume?
Write out your full name. Research the meaning of your name (which can include any or all of the following: your nickname, first name, middle name, surname, and/or mother’s maiden name if you use it).
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Poetry and the Sound of the Pacific Ocean
I am in Newport, Oregon for the Northwest Poets’ Concord this weekend, a veritable grassroots gathering of the poetic tribes, many who, like me, are not affiliated with academia. …
And so after a month of daily scribbling…
Since last fall, maybe early November, I’ve been drafting (mostly) a poem a day with time off for Thanksgiving…Every day in the short month of February, I posted my thoughts about the process, as well as excerpts from the daily poems, one-a-day like a creative vitamin…
One-A-Day: Poetry as Creative Vitamin
Since last fall, maybe early November, I’ve been drafting (mostly) a poem a day with time off for Thanksgiving, a 60th birthday party, Christmas, and our recent delirious spate of February spring. I’d long meant to tackle such a project…
Cat’s Cradle
As the whole world likely knows, the reclusive author, J.D. Salinger, died at the age of ninety-one last week. I was royally hooked on everything written by Salinger when I was an impressionable teen. Franny and Zooey was my favorite…
