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Let’s Finish February Strong: Poem by Toni Morrison

EVE REMEMBERING

1

I tore from a limb fruit that had lost its green.
My hands were warmed by the heat of an apple
Fire red and humming.
I bit sweet power to the core.
How can I say what it was like?
The taste! The taste undid my eyes
And led me far from the gardens planted for a child
To wildernesses deeper than any master’s call.

2

Now these cool hands guide what they once caressed;
Lips forget what they have kissed.
My eyes now pool their light
Better the summit to see.

3

I would do it all over again:
Be the harbor and set the sail,
Loose the breeze and harness the gale,
Cherish the harvest of what I have been.
Better the summit to scale.
Better the summit to be.

—from Five Poems (Rainmaker Editions, 2002)

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My Review of Angela Voras-Hills’ LOUDER BIRDS is Now Live at Green Mountains Review!

Hi everyone! I’m happy to announce my latest review, Angela Voras-Hills’ Louder Birds from Pleiades Press, 2020, is now live at Green Mountains Review!

You can read it here!

Elizabeth Powell at GMR recommended this book to me and was a true joy to work with. I greatly hope to have the opportunity to review for them again in the future.

This book is absolutely gorgeous: imagistic, lyrical, eerie, dreamlike, rural, violent, sexual… It reminded me how important it is to take risks in our work—and also how OKAY it is to sacrifice a little of our poetry’s accessibility in the name of beauty, language, and truth.

Because of this, it also challenged me to revisit my own work, to question where I’ve turned complacent, and where I’ve become too comfortable.

Constantly wrestling with new terrain and images, Voras-Hills’ collection is anything but safe, anything but complacent. Her work challenges what is beautiful, what is normal, even what promotes happiness in poem after poem—if not line after line.

I found myself particularly identifying with Angela Voras-Hills’ work because of her lyric and subtlety, as well as several of her core themes and rooting in Midwestern living. Reading this also repeatedly took me back to the work I did with Shaindel Beers‘ latest collection, Secure Your Own Mask, from White Pine Press, which wrestles with similar themes.

I hope you will find the time to visit Angela Voras-Hills’ collection. I cannot stress enough how lovely, complex, and memorable it is.

Before I go, here’s a poem I particularly love from Louder Birds. I hope you enjoy it, too.

MAPS OF PLACES DRAWN TO SCALE

Ten minutes from a two-week vacation,
a van flips on an exit ramp. In a small town,
the van is bigger. On the highway,
it’s just a van, heading toward a hotel. This
is global positioning: a man is ejected and the van
lands on top of him. In a small town, a priest
knows the man’s name, but Death does not
concern itself with formalities. It also does not take
the man whole: only his legs and anything else
it can grab below the waist. At a Chinese buffet,
Death is stuffing her cheeks
with crab rangoons, while a family
stands behind her with empty plates. Nobody stuck
to the vinyl booth finds “You will suffer”
inside their cookie, but it’s implied
in the parking lot. A child breaks free
from her mother’s arms and runs head-first
into traffic. In the city, there are always
detours. But in a small town, there’s one
name for each baby born, and eventually
it’s on the lips of everyone in the street.

—from Louder Birds and previously featured on The Adroit Journal

If you’d like to see more, I have one other poem by Voras-Hills posted on my website already. You can read it here.

ANGELA VORAS-HILLS is a poet, community organizer, and instructor living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. She spends a great deal of time running around city and watching birds in the backyard with her children. Her first collection of poems, Louder Birds, was chosen by Traci Brimhall for the Lena-Miles Wever Todd Prize. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Kenyon Review Online, New Ohio Review, Memorious, Rattle, Crab Orchard Review, and Best New Poets, among other journals and anthologies. She has been awarded grants from The Sustainable Arts Foundation and Key West Literary Seminar, as well as a fellowship from the Writers’ Room of Boston. Before moving to Milwaukee, she also co-founded a literary arts organization, The Watershed: A Place for Writers, which evolved into Arts + Literature Laboratory in Madison.

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Writer Tip Thursday: Say “Goodbye” to Impostor Syndrome. You Want to Write for a Reason.

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”

You may not be “Baby,” but you know what? No one (and no feeling) should put you in the corner, either.

Happy Thursday, friends! I do my best to share a Writing Tip on Wednesday each week (after doing some slacking lately with everything that’s going on), but it didn’t quite happen for me this week—so welcome to Writer Tip THURSDAY, everyone!

This week, I want to talk about that formidable voice we’ve all faced on our writing journey at some point.

She’s publishing another book. Why can’t I even finish this draft?

Will I even be able to find an agent? Or sell any books?

Everyone else’s stuff is going to fly off the shelves, and mine is just going to sit there for all eternity.

Oh, this is terrible. I should stop and try to write something else.

I actually thought this was good the other day?

Ugg, I’m never going to get another poem published, ever again.

Maybe I’m not cut out to do this.

Some of you know exactly what I’m talking about: Impostor Syndrome.

That feeling that you’re not good enough to do this. That you’ll never do as well as anyone else. That you’ll fail. That you’re already failing by wasting your time on trying.

But that’s all it actually is: A feeling.

We’ve all had these doubts. Newsflash: If someone tries to tell you they haven’t felt this way, they’re either A.) lying to you, or B.) are so full of arrogance, they are completely void of self-awareness.

No one is SO good at what they do that they lack the opportunity to improve and grow.

In my opinion, THAT is where the doubt comes from. You recognize that there’s something you could be doing better and challenge yourself (which is completely NORMAL and HEALTHY, and you SHOULD be doing that).

Where you get yourself in trouble, though, is when you turn it into what I call “a blanket statement” or you start holding your own personal comparing contest (or both!).

Instead of acknowledging that you’ve simply recognized an area that needs improvement in your work (passive voice, for example), you use that as a “blanket statement” for everything you do.

Because you need to improve in A (i.e., passive voice), that somehow now means that you’re just not good at BCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ (writing . . . anything).

And/or instead of realizing that the writer next to you has had different life experiences, writes about a different topic or works in another genre, or simply writes and submits MORE OFTEN than you do, you use the fact that they have more work published to say they are a better writer.

But quantity does not equal quality, even in publishing! Yes, they are probably a good writer, as they have the publications to prove it. But this does not make them a better writer than you; it makes them the writer next to you.

I want to challenge you to do something today, tomorrow, and this weekend.

I want you to show yourself a little grace.

Acknowledge what you’re feeling, and ask yourself DEEPLY why you have that feeling.

Then I want you to acknowledge if this feeling could be Impostor Syndrome, or a blanket statement, or your own personal comparing contest.

If it’s any of those three options, I want you to let that feeling go. Acknowledge that you’ve felt it, embrace it for a moment, and then let it go. Ask it to release you in return, if you feel like it has a particularly strong hold.

If you think you’re feeling something else—for example, maybe you’re feeling guilty that you haven’t written anything new for a while—then acknowledge that feeling, too, and ask yourself CRITICALLY what you can do to change it.

If you haven’t written in a while, write something! Read someone you love, look up some writing prompts, or just stare at a blank page for a while.

If you’ve been avoiding revising, or pulling your manuscript together, set a goal for how much time you will spend on that before Monday, and then do it. No questions, no excuses, no guilty feelings.

Whatever it is that you’re feeling, there is a REASON you’re feeling it.

The best thing to do is acknowledge the feeling, and figure out what’s causing it. Once you know that, you can work on changing it or leaving it behind.

But remember as you get started: It’s just a feeling. You are good enough to do this. You are enough without publications. You are enough. And you will get past this.

I hope you’re having the most wonderful Thursday.

*

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner” is from Dirty Dancing.

&

Want to Be Featured Here?

(BIPOC Writers to the front!)

If you’ve been following my website for a while, you KNOW I love to celebrate my fellow writers. I’d really love to get a series going: poetry, fiction, etc., AND a weekly writer’s spotlight. If you’d like to submit a piece to be featured, or if you’d like to do a mini-interview with me, check out the Series page and how to submit!

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I’m Getting All the Jewel-Vibes from This News that Halsey’s First Poetry Collection Is Coming This September.

Happy Monday, friends! I hope you’re all having a nice start to your week and are doing your best to keep your spirits high.

I’ve been struggling a lot lately with all that’s going on in our world, as I’m sure many can agree with. Fortunately this weekend, my husband and I were able to go away for three days with our kiddos to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary, and the time away gave me a chance to emotionally reset and start researching the things I love again—like new book releases!

This isn’t something I’ve blogged about a lot in the past, let alone celebrity-level news or more mainstream-focused moments, but I LOVE tracking new book releases, new authors, new genres for old favorites . . . you name it.

But first, I want to take you all back to the late ’90s with me for a moment.

Does anyone here remember this book??

A Night without Armor came out in 1998, but I didn’t discover it until a few years later, during middle school (I may be “giving my age away” a bit, but whatever—I’m only 32). By that time, I was steeped in creative writing classes, reading poetry and short stories, writing my own pieces, and doing daily sensory-poetic observations à la Henry David Thoreau’s The Journal.

It made TOTAL sense then to want to explore Jewel’s sensitive lyrics and the more lyrically imagistic lines of her poems.

And surely… it makes just as much sense, if for different reasons, for adolescents and adults to lean into Halsey’s collection this fall.

You heard that right: Grammy-nominated singer and songwriter “Halsey” (aka: Ashley Frangipane) is releasing her first poetry collection, I Would Leave Me If I Could from Simon & Schuster in September 2020.

Here’s the lovely cover of this upcoming work:

I came a little late to the party, as I just recently came across Halsey’s music, sometime in 2018. (What’s funny is that I found her through this excellent interview with Billboard from 2015, when I was doing some research on Bipolar Depression for my poetry collection. Talk about serendipity!)

Halsey’s opening hit single, “Ghost,” came out clear back in 2014, and since then, she’s grown an immense Twitter following and Grammy nominations. Halsey has also done a LOT of important work in the discussion of bisexuality, Bipolar disorder (and mental wellness in general), and female sexuality.

Halsey also explores these topics in her music, and she will not be shying away from these subjects in her poetry collection, either. I expect it’s going to be very interesting, lyrical (like her music), edgy, and important to a variety of literary communities.

Songwriters Hall of Fame President and CEO, Linda Moran, observed, “Halsey bares her soul with heart-wrenching, rebellious and complex lyrics that come from a place of creativity and strength where not many songwriters are comfortable going.” Moran clearly has no doubts that Halsey’s words could go mutually far in the literary community.

Stephanie Frerich, executive editor at Simon & Schuster, agrees. Frerich spoke of the 144-page collection: “Poetry infuses everything Halsey does – from music to painting and performing – so it’s hardly a surprise she’s so gifted with verse. We were immediately captivated by her poems the way millions are by her music.”

In the book description of I Would Leave Me If I Could available on the Simon & Schuster website, promises “more hand-grenades than confessions” that collectively “explore and dismantle conventional notions of what it means to be a feminist in search of power.”

I don’t know about you, but I’m really looking forward to seeing this collection hit the shelves, to read it, and see how Halsey approaches the page for the page’s sake, instead of for the sake of musical composition.

I’ll update this in September when the book rolls out!

“Ghost” by Halsey (2014)

&

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Writer Tip Wednesday: What Should We Share with Our Readership?

Hi everyone, and Happy Wednesday! I’m starting something new here, just once a week, that I’m really excited about. I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as me.

Every week over in my writing community, I’ve been sharing one tip that can make your writing life better. I keep it brief, typically 30 to 45 minutes, and I make it simple and actionable. I want everyone who watches to be able to take what I’ve shared, implement it, and start seeing results.

Most of the folks in my group are interested in taking the publishing of their books into their own hands, so I’ve been focusing pretty exclusively lately on how to navigate self-publishing.

Last week, we discussed whether or not publishing in this industry can be profitable—and I said, yes, it can be, particularly if you pay attention to one very key element.

Your readership!

Today, for my next Writer Tip Wednesday, I’ll be looking again at how to nurture our readership—what should we share with them to keep them interested before, during, and after a new book launches?

With 3 key steps, I’ll break down exactly the sort of content you should make sure to include, based on where you are on your writing journey and which genre in which you’re writing.

I hope you’ll come check it out! You’ve all been such wonderful readers, and I’d love to have you there.

&

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New Poem: A Seagull Makes A Lone Call, Off-Course (after Sylvia Plath)

A SEAGULL MAKES A LONE CALL, OFF-COURSE

And across from me a bird roots
in the gutter, looking for spare twigs.

Its dark feathered body dip in and out
of the track, its tail striking the air. I wonder instead

if it has made a nest up there when its body
disappears. Chirps rise in the early, warm days

of spring. I make notes, so we might look out
the next time we clean the gutters, might check-in

if there’s another freeze. The sky is the rare robin’s-egg
blue of the birds who nested in a nearby tree

last summer. The heat on my neck suggests I might burn,
but I welcome it, treasuring the rare day

when the sun comes out of hiding.

—after Sylvia Plath’s “Little Fugue” from her Collected Poems (HarperCollins, 1981)

&

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New Poem: In The Morning, Where I Walk (after Sylvia Plath)

Where Sylvia Plath’s “Blackberrying” and social distancing meet . . .

IN THE MORNING, WHERE I WALK

Out to the street where
cars have been parked for days, I know little

of what brings the birds
out of their hiding, what has come

of the neighbors who leave their trash cans
out long past the pickup, even the cat

we used to feed. Most blinds
are drawn, white walls against

the light, where I know there must still be
life inside. Hope, less so, less food

or supplies than what may
have previously lined the pantry, but

we find a way to survive. I line
the entry wall, hanging over the path

that leads up to our house
with more pine cones stuck thick

with peanut butter and birdseed, take
the dimensions of the hollow gap

along the path to build raised flower beds
in the spring, so we can go through

the summer with our bellies full
of heirlooms and greens.

Before I go back inside, I look
off in the distance, to the corner

of my street and the next, and see
the wild bushes. Crisp, brown leaves hang

after a mild winter, and I hope they will
be filled with blood-red vine in spring.

&

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A New Poem: Social Distancing & What’s Left Of It—

SOCIAL DISTANCE
& WHAT’S LEFT

I look out my windows, check
social media, more often
than I should, & wonder where
the parked cars
have gone, also too often, question
if there is somewhere I could have gone,
too. Out there, I know, someone
is sleeping, more snow falling
in one night than in the rest
of the season
combined—perhaps fitting
to this thing that makes us
unable to walk
amongst
ourselves, our bodies now
so far apart, even
our shadows, elongated by noon,
unable to touch. What a time it is
to be alive—the bees, restless
in their sleep, flowers budding
& more pollen, calling
more snow to cover
it up, an inversion of crows,
spreading their wings to cover
what’s left of the world. So few outside
to enjoy it with, so few out there
with me to witness
the sun coming back down,
its orange light falling
on newly-hung birdseed-covered
pinecones.

&

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Poem of the Day & Remembering Ralph Angel

Happy Tuesday, friends. I hope you enjoyed your day and did something you love today.

I mentioned yesterday that I’m diving more deeply back into my reading and writing, including sharing poetry during these uncertain times.

On March 9th, the press where I used to work as the Layout and Design Editor, New Issues Poetry and Prose, shared a video of Ralph Angel reading his lovely poem, “Bright Example.” In the post, it read, “If you need to need to hear Ralph’s voice, it is here. We at New Issues will all miss him so much.”

The post hit my body like a wave, and I locked myself in the bathroom for a few minutes, simply sitting there to listen to Ralph read his poem aloud. I cried alone while my children played, unaware, in the basement.

I think partially the news hurt so much, because it’s impossible to imagine such a bright light in the world going out at a time like this.

But more than anything, I think it’s the culture that I embraced while working with New Issues. The relationships we built there with each other, and with our writers, were sound, authentic, and unforgettable. I’ve never lost track of New Issues, celebrate their winners, read their latest books, and do whatever I can to remain involved with them from afar.

Working with Ralph Angel, who was one of the later poets I worked with while on staff, was an incredible experience. We exchanged countless emails about his poetry, their need to breathe on the page, the weather, what we were reading—typical to poets who relate anything in life to poetry.

More important were the phone calls, which were fewer in number but long, thoughtful, and hilarious. I knew long before anyone told me that he was brilliant, and a jokester.

During one of our calls, he joked with me about pranking me at some point—but not until the book was released, of course. He said he couldn’t take any chances (haha).

Then at AWP that year, in Seattle, Ralph was scheduled for a book signing at the New Issues table at the bookfair. I made sure to be there, so I could finally meet him in-person. When he arrived, there were immediately people surrounding him, so I waited. Once he was free, I introduced myself, and he gasped audibly.

He said, “Oh, it’s you,” and pulled me into a hug, saying, “Thank you.” He picked up his book from the table and said, “This is here because of you” (which was such an exaggeration, but it meant a lot to little MFA-candidate-me).

Goodness, I miss him. I think I always will. But eventually, I will have all of his books, and that will be more than I can say now.

For anyone who doesn’t have the books I have, or who may have not been introduced to his work yet, here are three poems I particularly love from Ralph’s Your Moon, which I designed in 2014.

THE WIND WILL CARRY US

Someone has been sleeping. Someone’s
heading nowhere.

This is the winding road. Then there’s a solitary
tree, and after that, nothing,
nothing.

If someone asks, say I’m
looking for buried treasure. Such a lovely
village. You’ve hidden it so well.

I haven’t hidden anything. Our ancestors
built it here.

See that blue window, near the lady
sitting on the steps. Let’s
go higher. I will

show you. Here’s your
room.

We have a sack of apples. We have
fresh bread. You won’t
get another chance

like this. On judgment day
it’s obvious. I’m used to it. I work
here. If you stay a while longer, you’ll
get used to it, too.

When I was little, and someone
told me a secret, I always wanted to reveal it.
And, eventually, I did.

“If you come into my house
oh kind one, bring me a lamp
and a window

through which I can watch the crowd
in the happy street.”

I’m sorry to disturb you.

You’re welcome.
This is my normal route.

YOU’RE THE RUB

Murmured in loneliness, round and round.
Let’s not go inside. The cliffs drop off, and the ocean’s
a friend—on the boardwalk
enough people alone
have died.
So relax, take your feet
off—nobody’s
missing. There are many parts
of the mind. On that old
open day we let out our long green grass. A night’s passed
and you expected it
to be there.
You’re the rub—the love
that loves the love. I like especially the puddles
and your wire. I like your mud.
I like your part
of it.

CONVERSATION

So I took a walk
inside. You’re alone
when morning
comes.
Watching you sleep in
is better

than oatmeal,
even Irish
oatmeal,
that thing you do
so well.

When you were a fish
you were a salmon.
I know, I’m
slow, I
know.

November’s a nice day
to be. The ocean’s
near.
Your fog
is

everywhere.

So I
talked to I, I said
fuck death, everyone
I meet knows
someone

I know. I said
it’s nice to be happy,
but no one
believes
me.

Take your time,
my love. The logs have lit
the fire.
The sweet scent
of your hair

kisses
my mouth, and I
kiss you back,
and pour
the tea.

Enjoy, friends. And have a glass of wine in Ralph’s memory for me, okay?

—all from Ralph Angel’s Your Moon (New Issues Poetry and Prose, 2014)

&

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The Coronavirus & A Poem of the Day: Jennifer Jackson Berry

Hi friends! Happy Monday night.

I know the world is strange and unpredictable right now, and I know we’re all going through a lot. But I hope you’re doing okay, wherever you are, and you are still finding some joy in your days.

Me, I’ve been focusing on getting my home in order, taking care of my children, and throwing myself deeper into reading and writing. I’m grateful to say, I’ve been actively doing both for a long time now, though not posting about it online so much, but now I want to throw myself deeper into it.

I also want to share part of my process, because I know that reading poetry is good for us, and it can put us in a better place, a better mood. Though I can’t fix everything, I’d like to at least do something small, and get back to sharing good poetry.

I probably won’t post every single day, though I will certainly try. Tonight, I have a poem by Jennifer Jackson Berry for you, and tomorrow, I have a poem by Ralph Angel. He recently passed away, and I knew him, and I’ve been struggling to accept it. But the next best thing I can do is share his work. So that will happen tomorrow.

For tonight, I’m not sharing the happiest poem, but I don’t think that’s the point. This poem has taught me a great deal about what it means to write about a tough subject, not only from a unique perspective, but to also take the topic to stranger places as a means of expressing new truths about it.

It serves as a great reminder that we can write about anything we need to. Sometimes it will be hard, and sometimes we won’t want to share with anyone what we wrote that day. But we can tell ourselves that we did the work, and that we are in some small way better for it. Our stories are a little more present because of what we’ve done (and I’m all about everyone getting a chance at telling their story).

That’s enough from me. Here is the lovely and tragic “I Lost Our Baby” by Jennifer Jackson Berry, from her equally unique collection, The Feeder:

I LOST OUR BABY

I lost our baby in between the couch cushions,
under the car seat, in the trunk.
I lost our baby at Cedar Point—she was rolled up
in a plastic money holder I wore around my neck.
It looked like soap-on-a-rope & I left it
on the back of the toilet after changing wet clothes.
I lost our baby during a party—
she was on top of the fridge, then she was gone.
I lost our baby in the bottom of my purse
& when she rolled under the bed.
I lost our baby when I moved from the third floor
walk-up apartment. I lost our baby at a Good Will
drop-off site in Bloomington, Indiana.
I lost our baby when I was walking through the parking lot—
my keychain broke & she slipped right off.
I lost our baby in a friend’s house fire.
I lost our baby in the dorms
when the girl across the hall borrowed her & never returned her.
I lost our baby even though I wrote my name on her,
with a cute little stamp of a teddy bear reading.
This baby belongs to Jennifer. I lost our baby
on trash day, on my birthday, on a Thursday.
I lost our baby in dozens of pearls bouncing
across linoleum tiles—I had her in my mouth
& the thread snapped.

—from Jennifer Jackson Berry’s The Feeder (YesYes Books, 2016)

Enjoy, friends. I’ll be back tomorrow with our next poem. Take care of yourselves out there, keep reading, keep writing, and fight for your stories to be known. Your story deserves to be heard.

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AWP Is This Week! Here’s How To Make The Most Of It.

Happy Monday, friends! It’s the first full week of March, which for 2020 means it’s time for AWP.

“AWP” stands for the Association of Writers and Writing Programs, and it hosts an annual writers’ conference, referred simply to as AWP. It’s a massive conference, one that many find to be overwhelming, but it’s the one truly extroverted event that this particular introvert loves and thrives on.

Unfortunately for me, I will not be able to attend the 2020 event in San Antonio, Texas, but I have a lot of great tips for those who are attending for the first time, or who haven’t attended in a long time.

Over the next few days, I’ll be sharing a few of my top choices and recommendations for:

  • panels you might consider attending,
  • some tables at the book fair you’ll want to visit, including a few that are hosting some awesome book signings,
  • new books you may want to pick up, and
  • off-site readings you for sure don’t want to miss.

Though this will be a lot of fun to post about, I do have a State of Emergency sidenote:

AWP 2020 has been impacted by the advancement of the coronavirus and the State of Emergency that was issued by Mayor of San Antonio, where the conference is to be held. Though AWP is still on, some panelists and publications at the book fair will not be attending, and some readings may be canceled or considerably smaller than originally planned. As far as I know, the recommendations I have for you have not been impacted, and everyone involved in these recommendations is still attending, but it may be a little too soon to tell. (Also, I wholly recommend attending only if you take the necessary precautions to stay safe, well, and to prevent to spread of unnecessary germs.)

That’s it for tonight! Tomorrow (Tuesday), I’ll share some tips for navigating that crazy-long schedule of panels and on-site readings, and I’ll give you my recommendations for what not to miss.

On Wednesday, I’ll give you some tips on all-things bookfair, as well as books you may want to consider purchasing, and how best to get those books home, so you don’t cut your car’s gas mileage in half (like me).

Finally, on Thursday morning, I’ll share with you all the off-site readings I would love to attend, which will take place on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and possibly Sunday nights.

Thanks, all! Though I wish I could be at the conference in-person, writing about it is the next best thing, and I’m grateful to have some readers out there who are ready to read and geek out over this extremely extroverted thing with me. More soon!

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It’s the “Almost Halloween” Friday Round-Up!

Happy Friday, friends! I hope you’ve had a wonderful week.

I know in the last couple weeks I’ve been a bit off my game as far as posting regularly. I’ve had good reasons—family stuff, birthdays, travel, illness—but that doesn’t mean I feel good about not writing to you all.

I’m hoping to be back in the rhythm this coming week, especially for all of us who may be in the final stretch of preparing for NaNoWriMo. My next Friday Round-Up is on the very first day of this year’s NaNo, so I’ll for sure be talking about that!

This weekend, I’m also putting the finishing touches on a bit of a trick-or-treat basket for writers—so please stay tuned for that!

In the meantime, it’s time for this week’s round-up! I have my usual trending pieces, but I’m also dabbling in writing about the final season of The Good Place, and I’ve just begun a series of #ThrowbackThursdays to celebrate the art of being published.

As always, I thank you for reading, supporting, and reaching out. It means the world to me, truly.

This Week’s Round-Up!

In Entertainment:

The Good Place: Where Will Season 4 Leave Eleanor?,” Medium (October 2019): link

In Poetry:

“The Underside of Trees (A Poem),” Medium (originally published by Sleet Magazine): link

In Trending News:

“Astros Fire Assistant GM After He Taunted Female Reporters With Comments About Domestic Abuser,” Comic Sands (October 2019): link

“Muslim Ohio Teen Left ‘Humiliated’ After Being Disqualified From Race For Wearing Hijab,” Comic Sands (October 2019): link

“Christian School Theatre Teacher Fired For Being Gay Has Powerful Message For Her Former Students,” Comic Sands (October 2019): link

“Kelly Ripa Called Out After Claiming Her Son Is Living In ‘Extreme Poverty’ In Brooklyn,” Comic Sands (October 2019): link

Happy Friday, everyone! Happy Fall, and a Happy early Halloween! I hope you stay warm and enjoy your favorite fall-ish things.

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