I wondered about the possible long-term effects of the 30/30 month, hoped a month of writing every day would spur more writing when the month ended. And it has - October ended with six new poems in the poetry bank. Not as many as September yielded, but more than August had.
But I find that the lasting effects have been ones I hadn't considered: staying in touch with my fellow 30/30-ers, continuing to share writing prompts, inspiration, frustration, and our lives outside of writing. I've been without a writing group for four years now, and to have one again, albeit a virtual one, feels like a gift.
The other effect has been a renewed connection with poetry in general - getting shaken out of my usual choices of poets to read, following links and suggestions with more energy. I've probably bought more poetry books in the past two months than I had in the last several. I'm exploring chapbook publishers, newly curious to see what their books look like in person, feel like.
And last weekend I traveled to the Twin Cities to do a reading at the Schmidt Artist Lofts with a memoirist - a mutual friend put us together for a reading. As strange as it felt to read without having the book in hand (The Dog is still at the printer - another week or two - oh how much I am learning, reluctantly, about patience!), it felt great to read. It felt great to look up and see good friends in the audience. I have another reading scheduled for the end of the month and I can't wait!
And, yes, I've already written a poem this month.
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
And then it was October
Yesterday was the last day of September, my last day on the 30/30 Project (although, I should point out, NOT the last day you can donate in my name to Tupelo Press! See previous post for details). The September 30/30 poets wrote a collective bonus poem to welcome in the October poets, and it seems we really achieved some kind of collective poetry mind, because all our contributed parts fit well together and it is a lovely poem.
I applied to be part of the project back in the summer, and looked forward to participating in my chosen month, September. But as September drew nearer I started thinking about things I had forgotten about - like that school started (for the whole family) then, that it was the start also of soccer, choir, chorale, and kid-swap days; that there would be grading, driving, coaching, swimming lessons, homework-overseeing, and generally exhausting schedule-related activities that would all hit around the beginning of September. I started to fret a little that I would not have something to write about each day. But some of this was pro forma fretting - I know that when pushed, my brain can always dig up some little scrap to work up for display. I just don't enjoy pushing it to do that (isn't this always the case?).
But - this was something new, something to shake me out of the non-writing rut I had fallen into, something to use as an example in the Adventures & Experiments class I teach. I thought about how often I urge Cora to try new things and to go into new things thinking positively.
And, of course, once it began I found that I loved it - I loved the accountability of having to produce a new poem each day. I fell into a weekday routine of starting to think about what I would write, taking Cora to school, coming home and sitting down with my notebook, my coffee, and what became my favorite pen (a yellow and green one made from biodegradable "corn plastic" and with the Waste Management company logo - I am pretty sure there is a bucketful of metaphors in there somewhere). And while not every poem was a keeper, several were, and all were worth the effort.
I also found reconnection with other poets, something I still really miss about the Cities. Our group of 30/30 poets has been such a good place to discover. I have loved reading their poems, checking in multiple times each day to see whose poem has gone up, what they wrote about, how they wrote about it, what they are doing with language and form. Thank goodness we have Facebook, because I don't want to stop hearing what they have to say!
Did I make a strong enough habit? Without having to publicly produce work, with people actually waiting on me to do so, will I still write as frequently?
Let me put it this way: I came home this morning from dropping off Cora. I sat down with my coffee and my notebook. And I wrote.
I applied to be part of the project back in the summer, and looked forward to participating in my chosen month, September. But as September drew nearer I started thinking about things I had forgotten about - like that school started (for the whole family) then, that it was the start also of soccer, choir, chorale, and kid-swap days; that there would be grading, driving, coaching, swimming lessons, homework-overseeing, and generally exhausting schedule-related activities that would all hit around the beginning of September. I started to fret a little that I would not have something to write about each day. But some of this was pro forma fretting - I know that when pushed, my brain can always dig up some little scrap to work up for display. I just don't enjoy pushing it to do that (isn't this always the case?).
But - this was something new, something to shake me out of the non-writing rut I had fallen into, something to use as an example in the Adventures & Experiments class I teach. I thought about how often I urge Cora to try new things and to go into new things thinking positively.
And, of course, once it began I found that I loved it - I loved the accountability of having to produce a new poem each day. I fell into a weekday routine of starting to think about what I would write, taking Cora to school, coming home and sitting down with my notebook, my coffee, and what became my favorite pen (a yellow and green one made from biodegradable "corn plastic" and with the Waste Management company logo - I am pretty sure there is a bucketful of metaphors in there somewhere). And while not every poem was a keeper, several were, and all were worth the effort.
I also found reconnection with other poets, something I still really miss about the Cities. Our group of 30/30 poets has been such a good place to discover. I have loved reading their poems, checking in multiple times each day to see whose poem has gone up, what they wrote about, how they wrote about it, what they are doing with language and form. Thank goodness we have Facebook, because I don't want to stop hearing what they have to say!
Did I make a strong enough habit? Without having to publicly produce work, with people actually waiting on me to do so, will I still write as frequently?
Let me put it this way: I came home this morning from dropping off Cora. I sat down with my coffee and my notebook. And I wrote.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Sitting down every morning to write
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| My poem, Cora's drawing: a great postcard! |
Recently I've been prompted to write by a construction site, a colossal squid, and a longing to spend more time sleeping.
When I look back over the poems I've written this month, I am delighted at the variety of subjects and ideas and even forms that I see. And when I look back over the poems my 30/30 colleagues have written I am even more delighted. What an amazing portrait of poetry right now we have created!
Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it wonderful that people like me and Heather Bourbeau, Harmony Button, Sam Cha, Lisa Ludden, David Rawson, Leslie Contreras Schwartz, Emily Van Kley, and Jessica L. Walsh have a space like the Tupelo Press site, where we can share our (fresh!) poems with, well, everyone?
Yes. Yes it is wonderful. That Tupelo Press is able to do this, as a non-profit literary press, is thanks in part to the donations they receive, sponsorships for those of us sitting down every morning to write - excited, nervous, confident, fearful, bursting with words or squeezing them out bit by bit. And so, yes, I am here now to ask you to donate, to sponsor me, if you've enjoyed a poem or two (or twenty-four, or...wait, what's 9x24?). Here's how, and here's what's in it for you:
How to Donate:
There are three ways to donate - with each it is very important that you include my name as the poet you are sponsoring so that I know what kind of treats to send your way! Here’s how you can sponsor me:
- Subscribe to Tupelo Press (9 books for $99). Visit http://www.tupelopress.org/books_subscribe.phpand fill out the form; be sure to put my name in the “comments” field!
- Complete the Tupelo Press Donation Form at https://www.tupelopress.org/donate.php and be sure to put my name in the “honor” field. (You can also print out the form and send it in with a check.)
- Donate using PayPal at https://www.tupelopress.org/donate.php - click on the orange “Quick Donation via PayPal” button - be sure to put my name in the “message” field!
What's in it for YOU:
$5 => set of 4 haiku-by-Merie stickers (the stickers are business card-sized)
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Day 21 / Poem 21
It's hard to believe that here I am in the last 10 days of the 30/30 Project!
One of my favorite parts has been getting words from people - I love knowing they've supported me by donating to Tupelo, helping to keep poetry in the world, I love the challenge of working with five words I didn't choose and finding their way of fitting together, and I love being able to post and tell people that their words have made an appearance.
Today's poem has two points of genesis. One is that in browsing the Academy of American Poets' web site I found a link meant to help you find poetry events in your state. North Dakota is not even on the menu. Sigh.
And the other point was the words my mom sent me: tether, corduroy, plummet, ephemeral, illuminate.
One of my favorite parts has been getting words from people - I love knowing they've supported me by donating to Tupelo, helping to keep poetry in the world, I love the challenge of working with five words I didn't choose and finding their way of fitting together, and I love being able to post and tell people that their words have made an appearance.
Today's poem has two points of genesis. One is that in browsing the Academy of American Poets' web site I found a link meant to help you find poetry events in your state. North Dakota is not even on the menu. Sigh.
And the other point was the words my mom sent me: tether, corduroy, plummet, ephemeral, illuminate.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Day 18 / Poem 18
Thursday being writing prompt day, we 30/30 poets spent some time this week talking about what our prompt would be. It is interesting to me where we all come from in our approach to writing prompts, from the very prescriptive to the very vague. I am in the very vague camp, as a rule. I will do prescriptive prompts if it's called for, but mostly I want to be pointed in a direction and then left alone.
This might be why I am so happy teaching college. Autonomy is high on my list of career priorities.
So we went with the idea of a response - to whatever we each felt moved to respond to. At home we are in the midst of dealing with a mouse (we've only seen one, but I know, I know), and so I felt called to respond to that. But earlier in the week I had asked my cohort, "But what about Scotland?" Mainly a joke, but it seems to have stuck in my head. Plus, NPR has covered the lead-up to the independence vote pretty heavily this week.
But, if you put together a mouse and poetry, there is a more than fair chance you are going to trigger a memory of Robbie Burns's wee beastie. And so today's poem began.
This might be why I am so happy teaching college. Autonomy is high on my list of career priorities.
So we went with the idea of a response - to whatever we each felt moved to respond to. At home we are in the midst of dealing with a mouse (we've only seen one, but I know, I know), and so I felt called to respond to that. But earlier in the week I had asked my cohort, "But what about Scotland?" Mainly a joke, but it seems to have stuck in my head. Plus, NPR has covered the lead-up to the independence vote pretty heavily this week.
But, if you put together a mouse and poetry, there is a more than fair chance you are going to trigger a memory of Robbie Burns's wee beastie. And so today's poem began.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Day 17 / Poem 17
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| Common Duckweed |
My self-imposed writing assignment this morning was to use the five words provided by my friend Casey, who sponsored me in this writing-intensive month.
Before I reveal the words Casey gave me, I wanted to say how grateful I am to those who have already sponsored me this month by donating to Tupelo Press, and to say that if you have liked the writing you've seen so far this month, if you think it is amazing that Tupelo offers up its web site to poets every month and gives us a way to reach more readers than we otherwise might, if you think it is crazy or brave or weird or wonderful that I am actually sitting down every morning of September with the intention of producing a poem and displaying it to the world, I hope you will consider sponsoring me by donating to Tupelo Press. Plus, you know, I have ways of thanking you! (See the end of this post for details.)
Casey's words are: surprising, unassuming, searching, kindness, and verdant
Now, even though I think thee are terrific words, and I love the way they play off each other, I really had no idea what to do with them. I spent a while trying out different combinations, ideas, but specific, cohesive images were eluding me. So, I backed up, turned to a fresh new page in the old writing journal, and thought about the three words I most wanted to bring together: surprising, unassuming, and verdant. The last two are probably the ones that made me start thinking about small flowers and wondering what the smallest flower is.
So, I looked it up and was (thank goodness) *surprised* to discover that the smallest flower is considered to be the flower of the duckweed plant. Duckweed! Who knew? And then I felt that rush of seeing how the poem would come together, where I needed to pull from to create it, and how the other words would fit in.
Over the past 17 mornings I have come to crave that feeling.
* * *
How to Donate:
$5 => set of 4 haiku-by-Merie stickers (the stickers are business card-sized)
- Subscribe to Tupelo Press (9 books for $99). Visit http://www.tupelopress.org/books_subscribe.php and fill out the form; be sure to put my name in the “comments” field!
- Complete the Tupelo Press Donation Form at https://www.tupelopress.org/donate.php and be sure to put my name in the “honor” field. (You can also print out the form and send it in with a check.)
- Donate using PayPal at https://www.tupelopress.org/donate.php - click on the orange “Quick Donation via PayPal” button - be sure to put my name in the “message” field!
Let me know when you donate, and I can make sure your donation has been matched up with my name - and then I can start preheating the oven for your cookies, put Cora to work drawing, or pull out my dictionary to look up the wacky words you are sending me.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Just past the halfway mark!
Day 15's poem was a surprise and a delight - it felt like it just showed up waiting for me to write it down. I mean - I revised and edited and changed and shaped, but it wasn't a struggle.
Today's poem was trickier. Today I tackled another set of words from kind sponsors. I'd actually been holding on to these words for a couple days, waiting to see how they would fall together in my mind. I had to google one of them to find out what it was. Then later I googled another just to see what other information I could find in addition to what I already knew. When I did that, I did indeed discover something new about a familiar word, and that piece proved to be part of unlocking the relationships among the words.
The words my friends gave me? Arabidopsis, Schenectady, prosaic, buttery, indigo. And here is Arabidopsis thaliana, the title plant of today's poem:
Today's poem was trickier. Today I tackled another set of words from kind sponsors. I'd actually been holding on to these words for a couple days, waiting to see how they would fall together in my mind. I had to google one of them to find out what it was. Then later I googled another just to see what other information I could find in addition to what I already knew. When I did that, I did indeed discover something new about a familiar word, and that piece proved to be part of unlocking the relationships among the words.
The words my friends gave me? Arabidopsis, Schenectady, prosaic, buttery, indigo. And here is Arabidopsis thaliana, the title plant of today's poem:
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| link to credits |
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Days 12, 13, 14...
30 poems...30 days
Day 12's poem
This one was written using words from my friend Jill, herself an amazing writer (and friend and mother and rower and gardener and...let's just call her amazing all-around). Jill's words immediately set me writing that first stanza, and then the second one just seemed to follow so naturally. It was a nice morning for writing!
The words: longing, drop, spin, grace, glass
Day 13's poem
Friday night we had a lot of people here for dinner. It was wonderful! So much fun, so much good conversation. We really didn't want it to end - once everyone left we all just stayed up a little later, stretching out the goodness of the day.
Day 14's poem
Which brings us up today and the poem I wrote using words from some friends in California. This set gave me a bit more of a run for my money - I admit to never having considered Orlando as a place (or person - thank goodness for Virginia Woolf) that would be in a poem of mine. I ended up with a kind of silly conceit to get it going, but in the end I liked it. And it surprised me, which is always nice, too.
The words: sycophant, tintinnabulation, liver, Orlando, quash
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How can you get in on this "give Merie 5 words for a poem" action? Sponsor me by donating $15 to Tupelo Press! Find all the details you need by clicking HERE.
Day 12's poem
This one was written using words from my friend Jill, herself an amazing writer (and friend and mother and rower and gardener and...let's just call her amazing all-around). Jill's words immediately set me writing that first stanza, and then the second one just seemed to follow so naturally. It was a nice morning for writing!
The words: longing, drop, spin, grace, glass
Day 13's poem
Friday night we had a lot of people here for dinner. It was wonderful! So much fun, so much good conversation. We really didn't want it to end - once everyone left we all just stayed up a little later, stretching out the goodness of the day.
Day 14's poem
Which brings us up today and the poem I wrote using words from some friends in California. This set gave me a bit more of a run for my money - I admit to never having considered Orlando as a place (or person - thank goodness for Virginia Woolf) that would be in a poem of mine. I ended up with a kind of silly conceit to get it going, but in the end I liked it. And it surprised me, which is always nice, too.
The words: sycophant, tintinnabulation, liver, Orlando, quash
* * *
How can you get in on this "give Merie 5 words for a poem" action? Sponsor me by donating $15 to Tupelo Press! Find all the details you need by clicking HERE.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Day 11
Earlier this month we September 30/30 poets agreed that Thursdays would be writing prompt days, days we would all endeavor to write from the same idea, image, news item, what have you, and tagged the second Thursday, today, for the (doomed) Russian sex geckos.
But today is also the 11th of September, and while I do not feel like writing a poem about 9/11 - perhaps I won't ever - I do wonder if people would expect that?
Well, as it happened, I started out wanting to write a light and funny poem about the sex geckos, but they made me sad. They reminded me of Laika. So that is what I wrote about.
But in this space I want to mention someone else's poem, the poem that comes to mind first when I think of 9/11 now. That morning a friend and I had met for breakfast before work, as we left and got into our cars, we both turned on our radios to NPR, pulled over after about a block, and then drove to my house, where we sat speechless on the couch watching TV. I was thankful to be with a good friend. I've come to associate 9/11 with this poem by Robert Hayden that begins with an evocation of the Civil Rights struggles and Vietnam, because for me, this is the ultimate word on grief, loss, beauty, and art's ability to transcend and comfort.
Monet's Waterlilies / Robert Hayden
Today as the news from Selma and Saigon
poisons the air like fallout,
I come again to see
the serene, great picture that I love.
Here space and time exist in light
the eye like the eye of faith believes.
The seen, the known
dissolve in iridescence, become
illusive flesh of light
that was not, was, forever is.
O light beheld as through refracting tears.
Here is the aura of that world
each of us has lost.
Here is the shadow of its joy.
But today is also the 11th of September, and while I do not feel like writing a poem about 9/11 - perhaps I won't ever - I do wonder if people would expect that?
Well, as it happened, I started out wanting to write a light and funny poem about the sex geckos, but they made me sad. They reminded me of Laika. So that is what I wrote about.
But in this space I want to mention someone else's poem, the poem that comes to mind first when I think of 9/11 now. That morning a friend and I had met for breakfast before work, as we left and got into our cars, we both turned on our radios to NPR, pulled over after about a block, and then drove to my house, where we sat speechless on the couch watching TV. I was thankful to be with a good friend. I've come to associate 9/11 with this poem by Robert Hayden that begins with an evocation of the Civil Rights struggles and Vietnam, because for me, this is the ultimate word on grief, loss, beauty, and art's ability to transcend and comfort.
Monet's Waterlilies / Robert Hayden
Today as the news from Selma and Saigon
poisons the air like fallout,
I come again to see
the serene, great picture that I love.
Here space and time exist in light
the eye like the eye of faith believes.
The seen, the known
dissolve in iridescence, become
illusive flesh of light
that was not, was, forever is.
O light beheld as through refracting tears.
Here is the aura of that world
each of us has lost.
Here is the shadow of its joy.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
The 10th day's poem
One of my preoccupations as a parent - and I know that the way this preoccupies me marks me as lucky as well as privileged - is how and when to talk with Cora about the ugliness of the world. The harshness, the heartbreak, the horror.
Death is easier for me to talk about, and we've had more practice. Beloved friends have died, the parents of friends, pets, too.
Now that she's older, an independent reader, a constant reader-of-headlines-over-my-shoulder, a persistent questioner, and also someone who (seemingly) never forgets anything, well, now there is a lot more to explain in the world.
Recently I contributed a tanka (a Japanese form) to the 1000 Tanka for Michael Brown and Ferguson, MO project, where I tried to capture her inquisitiveness, my ambivalence, and what I believe is, in fact, required of me in these situations. All in 5 lines of 5-7-5-7-7 syllables.
Today's poem over at the 30/30 Project is related to this preoccupation, to finding the ways our family history connects with the larger history of the world, to try to say what our lives have to do with events that impacted other families more forcefully than ours.
Death is easier for me to talk about, and we've had more practice. Beloved friends have died, the parents of friends, pets, too.
Now that she's older, an independent reader, a constant reader-of-headlines-over-my-shoulder, a persistent questioner, and also someone who (seemingly) never forgets anything, well, now there is a lot more to explain in the world.
Recently I contributed a tanka (a Japanese form) to the 1000 Tanka for Michael Brown and Ferguson, MO project, where I tried to capture her inquisitiveness, my ambivalence, and what I believe is, in fact, required of me in these situations. All in 5 lines of 5-7-5-7-7 syllables.
Today's poem over at the 30/30 Project is related to this preoccupation, to finding the ways our family history connects with the larger history of the world, to try to say what our lives have to do with events that impacted other families more forcefully than ours.
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Day 9 / Poem 9
Today's poem was a surprise - it was not the poem I started this morning, nor was it the poem I thought about while I took a break to wash dishes. But after I washed the dishes, I washed my hair in the sink.
Whenever I wash my hair in the sink, and end up staring at the ends watching the shampoo bubbles run out, I think about hair, and when my hair was longer, and that one girl in jr high who swore she'd never had a haircut and that the wispy ends of her hair were actually baby hair. What is it about that idea that makes it sound like hair from outer space, or hair that is actually a visitor from the past? I don't know. But her baby hair made me feel both jealous and oddly uncomfortable.
Needless to say, I was never the girl with baby hair. That's how it all started - all the girls I was not, the ones I was jealous of, the ones I felt bad for, the ones whose families scared me, and the ones whose lives were exotic to me.
Here's to those girls, all of them.
Whenever I wash my hair in the sink, and end up staring at the ends watching the shampoo bubbles run out, I think about hair, and when my hair was longer, and that one girl in jr high who swore she'd never had a haircut and that the wispy ends of her hair were actually baby hair. What is it about that idea that makes it sound like hair from outer space, or hair that is actually a visitor from the past? I don't know. But her baby hair made me feel both jealous and oddly uncomfortable.
Needless to say, I was never the girl with baby hair. That's how it all started - all the girls I was not, the ones I was jealous of, the ones I felt bad for, the ones whose families scared me, and the ones whose lives were exotic to me.
Here's to those girls, all of them.
Monday, September 8, 2014
Day 8 / Poem(s) 8
It's hard not to like haiku. They're small, they're imagistic, they're quick to read. It's one of the few poetic forms almost everyone knows, because you start writing them in second grade, right before you learn about acrostics and cinquains.
Like many people, I fell in love with haiku with this one:
On the one ton temple bell
a moon-moth, folded into sleep,
sits still.
- Buson (trans: X. J. Kennedy)
(the syllable count doesn't hold in a lot of translations)
Here's everything a stringently classical haiku should have: juxtaposition, image, hint of season, and a sense of something I think of as movement, but of an internal, emotional kind. The light as air moth, the so-heavy bell, stillness, but the implicit tone of the bell tolling if it were to be rung - how that moth would wake!
Fall, to me, is a haiku season if ever there was one. Everything seems overlaid with metaphor as the year begins its winding down.
Today's string of haiku started with the one I ended up placing last in the sequence - I can still see that leaf, lonely yellow beside all the still-green ones.
Like many people, I fell in love with haiku with this one:
On the one ton temple bell
a moon-moth, folded into sleep,
sits still.
- Buson (trans: X. J. Kennedy)
(the syllable count doesn't hold in a lot of translations)
Here's everything a stringently classical haiku should have: juxtaposition, image, hint of season, and a sense of something I think of as movement, but of an internal, emotional kind. The light as air moth, the so-heavy bell, stillness, but the implicit tone of the bell tolling if it were to be rung - how that moth would wake!
Fall, to me, is a haiku season if ever there was one. Everything seems overlaid with metaphor as the year begins its winding down.
Today's string of haiku started with the one I ended up placing last in the sequence - I can still see that leaf, lonely yellow beside all the still-green ones.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Day 6 & 7 of the Poetry Marathon
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| The artist I collaborated with on a series of postcards - one of the thank-you gifts for sponsoring me during my 30/30 month! |
Would you believe that weekends are a little crazier when it comes to finding time to write in the morning? I mean, there's eggs and bacon to be made, people! But, find time I did. Saturday morning Chris and Cora went to the Potato Bowl Parade and I wrote about dinner.
Saturday night I stayed up very late listening to music, writing, and finishing the sci-fi book I'm reading along with my brother and my dad, so that I would have something to post Sunday morning before the busiest day of the weekend got underway.
I have been thrilled to hear from people following my poems - knowing which poems have struck a chord with different readers is a rare treat! Please keep letting me know when you really like what you see!
I also hope that if you continue to enjoy the poems, or if you think it is pretty neat that I am sitting down every day and writing something that you get to read just a few hours later, or if you, like me, believe poetry is important and alive - if any of those things is true, I hope you will consider becoming a sponsor. Not least because I have some really exciting ways to thank you!
Let's say you decide that my poems are worth, say, 16 cents a day to you this month (or, maybe it's worth more, but hey, you also have to feed that family - I totally get that!). Donating $5 to Tupelo Press marked as a sponsorship for me would get you a set of stickers featuring haiku I've written to accompany photos. These are really nice stickers, even though my photo of them is blurry!
Maybe you have $10 you can put towards sponsoring me: I'll send you the stickers, sure, but also a set of 4 postcards that feature a poem by me that Cora has illustrated. She chose the poems, too. These came out so well, and Cora and I are both very proud of them!
A $15 sponsorship comes with a special perk: the first 10 people (8 spaces left, I believe) to sponsor me for $15 can choose five words for me to use together in one poem. (Frankly, these are so much fun I might go beyond ten, provided there is time in the month.) You also get stickers and postcards.
I have already heard from a couple people that the $20 sponsorship is the most attractive one to them because it comes with cookies! (Chocolate chip or gingersnap, your choice, to be mailed in October.) Plus stickers and postcards, of course.
And finally, sponsor me for $30 or more this month and you'll receive all the above, plus a handmade chapbook of all the poems I write for the 30/30 Project this month (which I will mail to you in October, along with some stickers, postcards, and cookies!). (If you want to build your library, you can also subscribe to Tupelo Press and receive 9 books for $99 - you can even choose the Tupelo titles you want to receive!)
If you sponsor me, be sure to let me know so that your dollars can be matched up to my name and so that I know who to send these little thank-yous to. Here are the ways to donate:
- Subscribe to Tupelo Press (9 books for $99). Visit http://www.tupelopress.org/books_subscribe.php and fill out the form; be sure to put my name in the “comments” field!
- Complete the Tupelo Press Donation Form at https://www.tupelopress.org/donate.php and be sure to put my name in the “honor” field. (You can also print out the form and send it in with a check.)
- Donate using PayPal at https://www.tupelopress.org/donate.php - click on the orange “Quick Donation via PayPal” button - be sure to put my name in the “message” field.
And, again, thank you most of all for reading along and for letting me know you're listening!
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| Writing journal page from the Sibelius poem |
Friday, September 5, 2014
Day 5 / Poem 5
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| Mountain Mahogany. Photo by Stan Shebs (cc)-by-SA3.0. from Wikipedia |
Remember when I said there were treats for donating to Tupelo Press during my 30/30 Project month? I'm sure you do! The stickers have arrived and I LOVE them - they turned out great and I have MOO.com to thank for the wonderful printing job. The postcards are due to arrive early next week and I can't wait to see them - Cora and I had so much fun collaborating on them.
But, my friend Cindy emailed me yesterday to say that she had donated $15 and she had five words ready for me.
Now, I debated whether I should reveal her words, or let people guess.
I realize, though, that if I were reading this I would definitely want to know. So, if you don't want to know...stop reading now.
Still here? OK.
Cindy's five words for me were: Mustard. Marshmallow. Stripes. Vehicle. Mahogany.
She sent them last night at about 8:30, and I had the first couple lines in mind when I went to bed. I woke up this morning at 6, when Chris's alarm went off (he was already awake, working at the computer with headphones on).
Left the house at 6:20 to get donuts and coffee beans - on my drive out to Tim Horton's I figured out how the stripes would go in (marshmallow was never really a problem for some reason - possibly a sign I already knew too much about marsh mallows and marshmallows?).
Got home about 7, rousted Cora out of bed, had a nice breakfast, waved goodbye to Chris and Cora, and sat down to start wrestling with mahogany, the most difficult one, until I had the brainstorm of googling "mustard and mahogany" and learned the name of the shrub I had seen many times during my childhood. Whew.
I'm not sure I will have as much fun for the rest of the day - these five words were a terrific puzzle to figure out!
Thursday, September 4, 2014
Day 4 / Poem 4
Another thing I am really enjoying about the 30/30 Project is the camaraderie among the poets. When we moved from Minneapolis to Grand Forks in 2010 I left behind a lot of friends, including my poetry group - a group founded in 1995! Granted, at that point I was the only remaining original member of the 1995 group, but our membership had remained steady at the core for at least 10 years. I have really missed my poetry group, and the other writing group I was a part of from about 2001. So now it is fun to be back in daily conversation with poets, through the poems we post and through Facebook.
Recently, Sam Cha suggested we have a group writing prompt, which grew into the idea of Thursdays being writing prompt days - an idea that suits me well. Sometimes I like to write what I want to write, and sometimes I want a framework or a starting point. For today, Sam had two links up his sleeve. One regarding the 100 year anniversary of the death of the last Passenger Pigeon (Martha) and one about kite fighting in the favelas of Brazil. And, then, of course, the challenge of somehow linking these two news items which are about very different actual events, but have some common themes running underneath.
Knowing ahead of time the general territory I'd be mining this morning, I did some research last night, on kites, kite fighting, names in different languages for different parts of the kite, scribbling about survival and extinction and fight or flight.
I didn't use much of my research when it came time to sit down this morning - I'd already half written the poem while walking home from drop-off. And that's okay, with one exception. I really wish I'd found a place for "Lonesome George" - the last known Pinta Island Tortoise, who died in 2012, and had lived in captivity since 1971 (housed with females of a different subspecies - so not totally alone). It's his name, of course, that gets me. How lonesome he must have been, indeed.
Recently, Sam Cha suggested we have a group writing prompt, which grew into the idea of Thursdays being writing prompt days - an idea that suits me well. Sometimes I like to write what I want to write, and sometimes I want a framework or a starting point. For today, Sam had two links up his sleeve. One regarding the 100 year anniversary of the death of the last Passenger Pigeon (Martha) and one about kite fighting in the favelas of Brazil. And, then, of course, the challenge of somehow linking these two news items which are about very different actual events, but have some common themes running underneath.
Knowing ahead of time the general territory I'd be mining this morning, I did some research last night, on kites, kite fighting, names in different languages for different parts of the kite, scribbling about survival and extinction and fight or flight.
I didn't use much of my research when it came time to sit down this morning - I'd already half written the poem while walking home from drop-off. And that's okay, with one exception. I really wish I'd found a place for "Lonesome George" - the last known Pinta Island Tortoise, who died in 2012, and had lived in captivity since 1971 (housed with females of a different subspecies - so not totally alone). It's his name, of course, that gets me. How lonesome he must have been, indeed.
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| Photo of Lonesome George by Mike Weston, (cc)2.0, from Wikipedia |
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Day 3 / Poem 3
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| Fig Girl / photo by Jan Kirby (c)2014 |
This morning as I walked back home after taking Cora to school, I felt a thrum of trepidation. What would I write about today? I'd been hoping (always, always) to wake up inspired, but I'd only really been inspired to drink coffee and make promises about going to bed earlier tonight.
So, I ran through some of my usual ways of poking the poem beast (who I envision living in my lungs, actually) and came home and read some random poems, browsed through Pliny, and then just sat back and listened to my brain.
There were two things running through my brain, and neither made it into today's poem.
One was the Spearhead song (is it too short to even be called a song?) "Home" - a little fragment track that I love. It's like a sleeping bag - small and cozy and warm.
The other was a quote from Charlie Parker: "Music is your own experience, your thoughts, your wisdom. If you don't live it, it won't come out of your horn."
So I started scribbling around with those two things in mind, but for some reason what I started hearing in my head was Sibelius's Symphony No. 5, and what I was seeing was a garden sculpture my mom has had in the yard of every house we've lived in ever (photo above). Maybe it was that home/horn combination lurking under the surface of my primary inspirations, who knows, but I like where I ended up.
Click here to read the poem on Tupelo Press's site!
Click here to learn more about what happens when you donate to Tupelo this month and mention my name (the stickers came in the mail yesterday and they are so damn cool, if I do say so myself!).
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Day 2 / Poem 2
I don't want to alarm you, but there are two photos at the end of this post. The first is of a Spiderman watch. The second is of a spider. Now you know.
Today's poem started a couple days ago, I suppose, when my friend Erika posted her amazing photo of a jumping spider. I fell in love with the photo (let's be clear about this: the *photo* - I love learning about spiders, I love pictures of spiders, but I have been known to shriek when encountering a real live specimen. Especially if over 1/8th inch in size). I knew I would end up writing about this mama spider, but I hadn't yet figured out how.
This morning was the first day of 3rd grade for my daughter, a morning she has been anxiously anticipating for weeks. She'd had her outfit picked out for a couple weeks, and back to school shopping had led to another round of discussions on "what stores think girls like" versus "what girls really like."
What this one girl, at least, really likes - is proud of liking - is Spiderman.
And so, walking back home, today's poem was born.
Today's poem started a couple days ago, I suppose, when my friend Erika posted her amazing photo of a jumping spider. I fell in love with the photo (let's be clear about this: the *photo* - I love learning about spiders, I love pictures of spiders, but I have been known to shriek when encountering a real live specimen. Especially if over 1/8th inch in size). I knew I would end up writing about this mama spider, but I hadn't yet figured out how.
This morning was the first day of 3rd grade for my daughter, a morning she has been anxiously anticipating for weeks. She'd had her outfit picked out for a couple weeks, and back to school shopping had led to another round of discussions on "what stores think girls like" versus "what girls really like."
What this one girl, at least, really likes - is proud of liking - is Spiderman.
And so, walking back home, today's poem was born.
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| Spiderman watch. |
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| Photo by Erika Sanders (c)2014 / Jumping Spider |
Monday, September 1, 2014
Day 1 / Poem 1
Today's poem is up over at the 30/30 Project page, my poem and those of my compatriots. I'm happy to be able to start the month off with a poem I really like, as I feel quite certain that over the course of the month I may end up posting at least one that feel less ready. I am trying to stick very close to the idea of writing a new poem for each day.
In today's poem I write about the painting A Wheatfield, with Cypresses, by Vincent van Gogh, and about the experience of seeing it in London this past May, standing in front of it, and underneath that the experience of having read his letters long ago in an undergrad class at CCS/UCSB. And I suppose something too about being in school so close to the ocean, sitting around tables talking, while all the while the ocean was out there, too.
There are actually three paintings by van Gogh of this same scene, nearly identical. The one below is slightly different than the one that hangs in the National Gallery, but only in a few small details.
Friday, August 29, 2014
But, will there be treats?
Monday. It isn't that far away, and it's when I start having a new poem a day posted on Tupelo Press's 30/30 Project page. I won't be alone, there are eight other poets taking this plunge with me, and I'm looking forward to seeing what we all write.
I mentioned in an earlier post that the 30/30 Project is also a fundraiser for Tupelo Press, a nonprofit, independent literary press. Did you ever do a March of Dimes Readathon? I did one in elementary school, and let's just say that many neighbors severely underestimated my ability to read a great number of books in a relatively short amount of time.
This is so different!
First, I hope you'll follow along and see what I am posting each day. Maybe you'll even let me know, in the comments or on Facebook, or through email (or when I run into you at school pick up!) what you think.
Maybe you'll even make a donation in support of my efforts. And - there's no maybe about it - if you do, there will be treats!
What kind of treats? What kind of donation? I'm so glad you asked.
$5 => set of 4 haiku-by-Merie stickers (the stickers are business card-sized) - here's one of the haiku stickers:
$10 => set of 4 haiku-by-Merie stickers PLUS a set of 4 postcards with short poems by me and drawings by Cora. Cora and I had a great time with this one. We read through a bunch of my poems and she picked out ones that she wanted to illustrate. Later on I'll post a picture of one of them.
$15 => set of 4 haiku-by-Merie stickers, set of 4 postcards with short poems by me and drawings by Cora PLUS the first 10 people to donate this amount get to supply 5 words that I must use together in one poem.
$20 => set of 4 haiku-by-Merie stickers, set of 4 postcards with short poems by me and drawings by Cora PLUS one dozen homemade cookies (chocolate chip or gingersnap - your choice, delivered in October).
$30+ => set of 4 haiku-by-Merie stickers, set of 4 postcards with short poems by me and drawings by Cora, one dozen homemade cookies (chocolate chip or gingersnap - your choice, delivered in October), PLUS a handmade, signed chapbook of all the poems written by me for my 30/30 month (also delivered in October).
Tupelo also offers a subscription (9 books published by them in 2014 for $99, or your choice of 9 of their titles - free postage!) for those who want to bulk up their poetry library. If you choose to order a subscription, I will also send you the rewards offered at the $30+ level.
You’re excited, now, aren’t you? You want those cookies! You want me to have to use “elephant, concatenation, pancreas, squelch, and Miami” in a poem, right? I hope so! My goal is to raise at least $350 for Tupelo Press, whether I get there through dozens of sets of haiku stickers or dozens of cookies.
There are three ways to donate - with each it is very important that you include my name as the poet you are sponsoring so that I know which treats to send your way! Here’s how you can sponsor me:
If you choose option 2 or 3, be sure to provide your mailing address so that you can receive a tax receipt for your donation!
Let me know when you donate, and I can make sure your donation has been matched up with my name - and then I can start preheating the oven for your cookies, put Cora to work assembling postcard sets, or pull out my dictionary to look up the wacky words you are sending me.
Whew. Okay. Now I'm ready for Monday!
I mentioned in an earlier post that the 30/30 Project is also a fundraiser for Tupelo Press, a nonprofit, independent literary press. Did you ever do a March of Dimes Readathon? I did one in elementary school, and let's just say that many neighbors severely underestimated my ability to read a great number of books in a relatively short amount of time.
This is so different!
First, I hope you'll follow along and see what I am posting each day. Maybe you'll even let me know, in the comments or on Facebook, or through email (or when I run into you at school pick up!) what you think.
Maybe you'll even make a donation in support of my efforts. And - there's no maybe about it - if you do, there will be treats!
What kind of treats? What kind of donation? I'm so glad you asked.
$5 => set of 4 haiku-by-Merie stickers (the stickers are business card-sized) - here's one of the haiku stickers:
- Subscribe to Tupelo Press (9 books for $99). Visit http://www.tupelopress.org/books_subscribe.php and fill out the form; be sure to put my name in the “comments” field!
- Complete the Tupelo Press Donation Form at https://www.tupelopress.org/donate.php and be sure to put my name in the “honor” field. (You can also print out the form and send it in with a check.)
- Donate using PayPal at https://www.tupelopress.org/donate.php - click on the orange “Quick Donation via PayPal” button - be sure to put my name in the “message” field!
Let me know when you donate, and I can make sure your donation has been matched up with my name - and then I can start preheating the oven for your cookies, put Cora to work assembling postcard sets, or pull out my dictionary to look up the wacky words you are sending me.
Whew. Okay. Now I'm ready for Monday!
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Secret (Poetry) Weapon
I have a secret weapon that I am counting on helping me during my 30/30 Project month (only seven days away!).
When I was in the University of Minnesota's MFA program, back when that MFA program was a little bitty baby that was just finding its feet, most of my professors were adjuncts. Adjunct professors not only get a bad rap, but they also get the short end of the academic stick - I know, because now I am one myself. But, I also found that, freed from the obligations of committees and advisees and departmental politics, adjuncts often had more time and energy for students than tenured faculty. Those classes were absolute treasures.
One such teacher whose classes had a lasting impact on my writing life was Deborah Keenan. I always knew that a semester with Deborah was going to a blockbuster in terms of generation and output. Ideas for poems came fast and thick in those workshops. Usually she would bring in poems that had caught her attention that week and read them to us and then ask these seemingly off-handed questions that worked.
I remember one class she read something and then asked the class, not directing the question to anyone in particular, "Have you written your dinosaur poem yet?" The poem my friend Christine wrote in response to that question is still memorable to me, nearly 18 years later.
So, imagine my delight when some internet searching at the beginning of the summer led me to a chapbook by Deborah, published by broadcraft press: From Tiger to Prayer. It is a small collection of writing prompts of the kind I remember her lobbing out into the classroom. I picked it up on a recent trip to the Twin Cities and have been saving it for fun, for inspiration, for September.
When I was in the University of Minnesota's MFA program, back when that MFA program was a little bitty baby that was just finding its feet, most of my professors were adjuncts. Adjunct professors not only get a bad rap, but they also get the short end of the academic stick - I know, because now I am one myself. But, I also found that, freed from the obligations of committees and advisees and departmental politics, adjuncts often had more time and energy for students than tenured faculty. Those classes were absolute treasures.
One such teacher whose classes had a lasting impact on my writing life was Deborah Keenan. I always knew that a semester with Deborah was going to a blockbuster in terms of generation and output. Ideas for poems came fast and thick in those workshops. Usually she would bring in poems that had caught her attention that week and read them to us and then ask these seemingly off-handed questions that worked.
I remember one class she read something and then asked the class, not directing the question to anyone in particular, "Have you written your dinosaur poem yet?" The poem my friend Christine wrote in response to that question is still memorable to me, nearly 18 years later.
So, imagine my delight when some internet searching at the beginning of the summer led me to a chapbook by Deborah, published by broadcraft press: From Tiger to Prayer. It is a small collection of writing prompts of the kind I remember her lobbing out into the classroom. I picked it up on a recent trip to the Twin Cities and have been saving it for fun, for inspiration, for September.
Thursday, August 21, 2014
What is found there
I've been thinking about the worth of poetry lately, given that I'm about to start the 30/30 Project, and that I will be hoping that friends and family will make a donation to Tupelo Press in support of my daily poetry efforts. What makes poetry worth supporting? Why is it important that small publishers stay alive, putting poetry in people's hands, giving poets a wider voice?
As an undergraduate at UCSB's College of Creative Studies, one of the writers we frequently discussed was William Carlos Williams, a doctor, a poet, a writer of short stories. Williams's lasting influence on me comes from the end of his long poem "Asphodel, That Greeny Flower," when he writes:
As an undergraduate at UCSB's College of Creative Studies, one of the writers we frequently discussed was William Carlos Williams, a doctor, a poet, a writer of short stories. Williams's lasting influence on me comes from the end of his long poem "Asphodel, That Greeny Flower," when he writes:
My heart rouses
thinking to bring you news
of something
that concerns you
and concerns many men. Look at
what passes for the new.
You will not find it there but in
despised poems.
It is difficult
to get the news from poems
yet men die miserably every day
for lack
of what is found there.
Hear me out
for I too am concerned
and every man
who wants to die at peace in his bed
besides.
Leaving aside the fact that this is not an example of inclusive language, I feel the rightness of the idea of there being something in poetry that cannot be found elsewhere and which is important and vital. Each art form has its own vocabulary of this "something" - the "news" I get from a painting is different from the "news" I get from music. And poetry is the place where I feel like I am able to get closest to being part of the news, of being, in this sense, a newsmaker. Sometimes I have felt this in art I've made, but mostly in poems.
And it does rouse my heart to think that I am part of bringing my news to someone who might be needing it, just as so many poets have brought the news to me.
(find a longer excerpt from "Asphodel" here: http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/asphodel-greeny-flower-excerpt)
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Countdown to FRESH poems!
Here, now, in what is quickly becoming late August, I am in countdown mode. The university classes I teach start on the 27th of this month. My daughter starts 3rd grade on September 2nd. The Dog Runs On will be released on September 12th.
But the main date I am counting down to right now is September 1, when I post my first poem for Tupelo Press's 30/30 Project!
For the last couple years Tupelo has been running this project: every month a handful of poets pledge to post a poem a day for 30 days.
From the poet's point of view, this is awesome and daunting and the kick in the butt so many of us need to keep writing every. damn. day.
For Tupelo Press, this is a fundraiser, and we poets hope that readers will choose to donate to Tupelo, a nonprofit press, to sponsor us during our month of public poetry. Poets are encouraged to be creative with the ways we might reward our supporters, and I'll be posting more about that in the days to come.
I'll also be blogging here about what it is like to put a poem a day out into the world - these poems will be ones written for this project - FRESH POEMS. Not polished ones that have been out and about in their fancy clothes for years, but poems that are rolling hot out of the laptop.
Well, you can see where the daunting part comes in now, can't you?
But the main date I am counting down to right now is September 1, when I post my first poem for Tupelo Press's 30/30 Project!
For the last couple years Tupelo has been running this project: every month a handful of poets pledge to post a poem a day for 30 days.
From the poet's point of view, this is awesome and daunting and the kick in the butt so many of us need to keep writing every. damn. day.
For Tupelo Press, this is a fundraiser, and we poets hope that readers will choose to donate to Tupelo, a nonprofit press, to sponsor us during our month of public poetry. Poets are encouraged to be creative with the ways we might reward our supporters, and I'll be posting more about that in the days to come.
I'll also be blogging here about what it is like to put a poem a day out into the world - these poems will be ones written for this project - FRESH POEMS. Not polished ones that have been out and about in their fancy clothes for years, but poems that are rolling hot out of the laptop.
Well, you can see where the daunting part comes in now, can't you?
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
What's next?
The chapbook pre-order period has about a week left - it was extended to August 18 - and then it will be about another month until I'll be able to hold one in my hands. It has been fun hearing from people who have ordered a copy, and talking with other writer friends about this process.
It has also given me a good nudge back toward more regular writing and also being a more adventurous poetry reader - looking at chapbooks from other publishers, subscribing to a few magazines to hear new voices, and discovering amazing works like Tom Philipps' The Humament! How have I not known about that before?!
Which is also how I have found myself involved in an exciting project for September - but more on that later.
It has also given me a good nudge back toward more regular writing and also being a more adventurous poetry reader - looking at chapbooks from other publishers, subscribing to a few magazines to hear new voices, and discovering amazing works like Tom Philipps' The Humament! How have I not known about that before?!
Which is also how I have found myself involved in an exciting project for September - but more on that later.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Chapbook forthcoming!
Earlier this year I got word that my manuscript of poems - the one I had worked on last summer at a little cabin at a State Park, courtesy of an Individual Artist grant from the North Dakota Council on the Arts - had been accepted for publication by Finishing Line Press.
Oh, the excitement!
For the next couple months I worked on finding artwork for the cover (that gorgeous photo of the running dog, aka Hank the Wonder Dog, was one of many options from photographer Tricia Halvorson Lunski), writing a bio, and so on.
The pre-publication pre-ordering period began in June and continues until the end of July, and those numbers help determine how many total copies the press will print of the book itself - it has been exciting to get the sales reports each week and see the numbers of pre-orders climbing.
It still seems like a long time to wait - September 12 - until the book finally starts winging its way to everyone who has purchased a copy, and to all the other places it will go.
It is great to have poems published like this, and I've worked toward this for a long time, but to my surprise the greatest benefit may be the burst of energy it has given to my writing life. I don't think I had quite realized how fallow that part of me has lain since our move to ND. I've missed the frequent jolts of energy my writing groups in the Twin Cities gave me - apparently they were even more effective than I knew.
But, I feel jolted again now. I've been writing, looking into the market, submitting poems and more manuscripts. It feels good.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Jump Start
January 2nd and school started up again this morning for our second-grader. Except that the air temperature outside was -28 at 7:45am (-43 with wind) and the car would not start. She was lucky enough to catch a ride with neighbors and make it to school on time. I've not been so lucky with my day to work at the quilt shop - even with AAA coming out to jump the car. It would not be jumped. Try us later in the day, the man said, when it warms up a little. By which I think he means, when the temperature reaches -15 or so.
I have felt a little like that car when I think about blogging. Needed a little more of a jump start than was available.
But here I am in the beginning of a new year. Perhaps that will bring the extra power needed to perk up a cold engine. After all, if my word of the year is going to be WRITE, then I'd better plan on it.
The flip side of my word, the ghost side, is both READ and RECORD. READ because I do want to read more this year, too, and because I believe you must read to write. You have to feed that machine. And RECORD because I want to keep track - of what I write, what I read, what I do and think and create, and what those around me are doing, too. Both these words I think of as being part of WRITE, of existing within and behind, in implication and in connotation.
My word for 2014 is a carpetbag word.
I have felt a little like that car when I think about blogging. Needed a little more of a jump start than was available.
But here I am in the beginning of a new year. Perhaps that will bring the extra power needed to perk up a cold engine. After all, if my word of the year is going to be WRITE, then I'd better plan on it.
The flip side of my word, the ghost side, is both READ and RECORD. READ because I do want to read more this year, too, and because I believe you must read to write. You have to feed that machine. And RECORD because I want to keep track - of what I write, what I read, what I do and think and create, and what those around me are doing, too. Both these words I think of as being part of WRITE, of existing within and behind, in implication and in connotation.
My word for 2014 is a carpetbag word.
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