Thursday, June 24, 2010

Happy, Non-controversial poem

List 6/24/10

What makes my heart smile?

Sunflowers, kittens, blue skies.

Ladybugs, sunshine, cool breezes,

Hummingbirds, ice cream, big black dogs,

And you, you…especially you.

Blogger's Note: I am still on hiatus; I managed to borrow my mother's computer for a while, and just wanted to write about a few of my favorite things.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

A Brief Hiatus

Dear Readers,

Since I began this blog in January, I have done my best to update this blog two or three times a week. I will have to take a brief hiatus over the next few weeks. My husband and I are going to depart for Fairbanks, Alaska on a mission trip this Saturday. We will be gone for about a week. Unfortunately, our computer is in the process of dying and I may not be able to update until we get a new one.

I will update when I can. Thanks for you patience, and thanks for reading!


Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Rejection Collection

I recieved a new letter this week to add to my pile of rejections. It was from a company called "Peachtree Publishers" I sent this manuscript off so long ago that I can't even remember what piece I sent them. This must have been before I discovered the joy that is

If you don't know what Duotrope is, you should really check it out. It's basically a database of publishing companies and it helps writers find what companies are looking for their work, and it has a handy submissions tracker which helps you keep track of which manuscripts you sent where.

Anyway, after much thought, I realize they must have rejected one of my children's stories. In my Children's Writers and Illustrators Market book, I had scrawled next to their name, "sent 9/6/2009." Unfortunately, I did not bother to write what I had sent.

It was probably a short story called, "Shelly the Brave and the Creature in her Closet."

I have posted very few of my children's stories on this blog because I can only post things on here that I do not intend to publish first elsewhere. I love my children's stories and I just can't give up on them yet. I think they're good...or at least have the potential to be good.

So my stories sit in my computer, waiting to be revised (yet again) and waiting for my courage to grow enough to send them out to more publishing companies.

The good news is...I am getting a much thicker skin when it comes to rejections. I've recieved almost 30 now for various pieces I have submitted over the past two years, and they just don't really upset me anymore. And they give me something to blog about.

Friday, June 11, 2010

As a Barely-blooming Girl of Twelve.

As a barely-blooming girl of twelve,

With freckles and brown straight chin-length hair,

I sat by the pond in my grandparents’ Camelot

And wished that I could talk to animals.

“You can come to me,” I would have said,

“I won’t hurt you. I only want to love you.”

And, I believed, if the animals could only understand,

The small yellow-black birds would sit on my shoulders,

The lean-eyed bobcats would lie at my feet,

And the fat bull-frog tadpoles would swim to the surface

Just to hear me sing.

Now, fourteen years later,

I walk through the tall grass with a kitten on my shoulder.

A lean-bellied black dog follows at my feet,

And a long white cat surfaces briefly from the brush

When I call her name.

I talk to these animals- and they understand me.

And I realize that I got my wish.

Of all the selves I have been,

I think she would have been happiest with who I have become.

Somehow my hair has slipped back into her style.

I don’t think the cosmopolitan me would be pleased with my choices.

The scholarly me would be disappointed,

And the feminist me might actually be appalled.

But she and I both knew that those three were always a little bit silly.

I've always liked twelve-year-old me best anyway.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

UPS just dropped off my copy!

Did you know that June is National Adopt a Cat/Kitten Month? This is my kitty; she has added so much to our lives. Will you open your heart to love a new cat this month?

Today I recieved my copy of "The Blinking Cursor" in the mail.

You can see my poem here. It's halfway through the book.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

"Housework" Proudly Accepted by Blinking Cursor

Last week, I got an email from the editor of the literary magazine The Blinking Cursor, Samantha Rose. She was writing to inform me that the latest edition of The Blinking Cursor with my poem in it could be purchased on I ordered mine right away and I can't wait for it to come!

According to my contract with the magazine, I do not have to wait to publish the poem elsewhere, so I can post it now.


I dip my hands into the steaming water and scrub

At bits of crusted-on cereal and the remnants of a thick green soup.

A bit of boiled egg floats by.

The water is already coffee-brown under the layer of bubbles.

I do not feel much like the plump sweet bride

You brought home only five years ago.

She had soft, clean hands.

I feel like an old fish-wife

with my hair pulled back tight

and my arid, bony hands immersed in dirty water.

I imagine your face when you open the flimsy trailer door

And see that I have finished the dishes.

I do not know who you see when you look at me,

The old fish-wife or the sweet, plump bride,

But I do know that you’ll be grateful that the dishes are done,

And that I am grateful I have someone to do dishes for.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

I wrote this a few months ago when I was in what can only be called a "Whimsical" mood.

My Cloud and Me.

I sit on my cloud and he carries me over
the land that my father will give me.
The misty white mountains are cold and refreshing,
but soon we fly out to the sea.

The sea is all covered in white foamy wave caps
And mermaids wave at me from rocks.
My whimsical cloud floats me over a cliff,
And I see a white spotted fox.

Some dragons are singing, their fierce pitches ringing;
My cloud moves me quite far above them.
He dips me around ‘til we fly over ground
That lies flat and clear-cut below him.

Miles after miles of plains stretch before us,
With great waves of ready, ripe grain,
Their sweet earthy fragrance, it floats up before us,
But soon we are flying through rain.

It’s time for my cloud to bring me back to the ground;
He drops me at the door of the palace.
When I enter in, I will be crowned as queen,
With a scepter, a throne, and a chalice.

I stand for a while, and I hunt for my smile,
but my hand will not open the door.
So I call for my cloud, and I cry out, out loud,
“Take me up where we can soar!”

Someday we’ll come back, when my father is old,
And then I’ll take over the throne,
But right now I’m free, just my cloud and me,
We’ll fly through the air, but we won’t be alone.

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