Surprise Snow, Aimee Mann and Daffodils in Mt Vernon, and Social Media Musings

Snow on pink hyacinth, my garden

Surprise Snow, Wind, and Sun

This has been a week for Seattle weather—we had a pretty powerful windstorm, which was predicted, and the next day we woke up to an unexpected snowstorm—not at all predicted—that grounded planes, knocked out power, and made it very hard to get out of the house for most people. Snow here—especially in March – is not common. It was also Friday the 13th. (Insert Twilight Zone music here.)

Glenn and I with forsythia and cherry blossoms, La Conner

Aimee Mann and Daffodils

The next day we woke up to more unexpected snow. We packed the car for a day trip up to Mt Vernon to see an Aimee Mann concert (we had bought tickets months before, so we decided to take a chance and go.)

Just as we left, the sun came out. We decided to take some time to visit the earliest blooms—some of them still holding on to a little snow. We also saw Trumpeter swans, several pairs of bald eagles, and a few seals. It was still chilly—in the forties—but the sun was a like a promise of better things to come.

The sunshine and activity helped my MS symptoms feel better—after being stuck in the house for a while with illness and bad weather—and the concert itself—a celebration of her Lost in Space album—was super fun—someone even gave me a free VIP tote that included a signed album, a comic book by Aimee Mann, and some other swag. Kindness of strangers. Glenn bought me a t-shirt! The last time I had a concert t-shirt was…a while ago. It was a lot of fun. And Aimee Mann being 65 is such an inspiration—an indie musician still doing her thing,

Social Media Musings

I started an interesting conversation on Facebook about social media—its value to us as writers, in selling books, in maintaining connections to others, or not.

Facebook, Twitter, Blue Sky, Instagram, TikTok, Substack…Which feel useful to you instead of like distractions, or worse, something that makes you feel worse, that drains you? I am contemplating this as I am trying to decide where to stay, which to cut, where to spend energy. As you can probably tell, I’ve been blogging for a long time, and I don’t really want to stop now. This is where I feel most comfortable.

I was thinking about how I follow writers, artists and musicians—like I learned about the Aimee Mann concert from a post of hers on Instagram and the last piece of art I got I learned about from an artist’s Instagram post as well. I hear about books from my writer friends mostly on Facebook—but books from authors I don’t know—it’s harder to pin down where I hear about them. The next time I have a new book, I’m not even sure what social media network will be working, not run by a supervillain, or where writers and readers congregate. I do know that I keep in touch with friends and family on various platforms—even LinkedIn sometimes (yes, I do have an old profile there). It shouldn’t be hard to cancel one social media or another, but somehow, I just keep hanging in there, posting once in a while.

Time Changes and Winter Blues with Cherry Blossoms, Academic Women in Pop Culture: Vladmir

Early cherry blossoms

Time Changes and Winter Blues (with Cherry Blossoms and Hummingbirds)

Daylight Savings Time started with sideways rain and chillier than average temperatures here in Seattle. I spent the last few days sneezing and coughing, mostly in bed. I managed to write a couple of poems, send out the book a couple of times, and watch the Netflix series (based on the book) Vladmir. I always am interested in how pop culture portrays women of a certain age (i.e. my age) in academia, particularly English professors, for some reason. Vladmir focuses on a sexed-up married professor who develops feelings (ahem) for a younger colleague, and how that plays out. I posted on Facebook about one of the funnier lines, where the protagonist (never named) complains of having writer’s block for 15 years, saying “I’ve tried everything! The Artist’s Way, microdosing ketamine…” Skipping from the Julia Cameron classic creativity handbook straight to hard drugs? Well, that’s not how I have managed my writer’s block in the past, but to each their own. The series also ends on a cheerier note than the book (no spoilers on specifics), and the actor who plays Vladmir is not really my type (looks a little too much like J.D. Vance for me), but Rachel Weisz is pretty funny in the role. There is also a discussion of a classic of gothic romance (although it’s not really about romance, it’s about ghosts and power and murder and money…). Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier which the protagonist’s students complain is misogynist. I did Rebecca in my winery book club and everyone loved it, so maybe this is a misread of the youth. There is a repeated phrase in the show about the sexual harassment case being brought against the protagonist’s husband: “it was a different time,” and I wonder if that’s really true. I never ever wanted to sleep with any of my professors (in the early nineties and later in the early 2000’s), and though I saw some questionable behavior by male professors towards female students (which even when they are over 21, I think can be very damaging) I never thought, “Well, gee, let’s give that a pass.” I always thought it was gross. I was also very married as a grad student. Maybe that made a difference? Anyway, you can watch it for yourself and see what you think. (Another quibble is: the main character is mid-fifties, but the author is only 45. It’s a generational difference that I think made some things read…somewhat off?)

All this time in bed with bad weather also gave me some opportunities to birdwatch, though the lighting was not perfect, I got a few shots of a hummingbird on our hummingbird swing and an immature eagle circling the house (the same one I saw a month or so ago, I think).

Despite the misleading cherry blossoms at the top of the post, we’re supposed to have cold rain AND snow this week, so spring seems like a false hope at this point, a thing which will never arrive. Winter Blues are a real thing for me in November, February, and yes, March. I wish for some dry warm days to shake up my physical miseries (colds never seem to be made better by cold wet weather, I notice). I missed AWP and saw all the happy pics on Facebook and sighed to myself. I don’t go every year—I don’t have the means, as a non-academic, to do it, even if I wanted to. But the news has also been so miserable, the weather, the fact that we’re planning a trip home to visit a very sick family member…it’s hard to just snap back to my usual cheerful self. I wrote a few poems about how I felt about America. Will these poems change anything? Probably not, but sometimes you need to write them anyway. We’re also doing taxes, which will do little to cheer anyone up. Well, here’s something to make you laugh, at least—one of the best SNL commercial parodies I have ever seen. “Are you allergic to Otezla? You may be the key!”

What do you all do to cheer yourselves up this time of year, especially is winter is lingering to ruin your dreams of planting your garden or walking outside much? And what about you all that went to AWP—any new news you want to share with those of us who had to stay home?

Spring on the Way, Writing Through Hard Times

Early blooms of cherry, with nearly full moon

Spring on the Way

Well, like you, I woke up this morning to the news that Trump had, for some unknown reason (and without congressional approval) started a war with Iran. (Not than I’ve been a big fan of Iran’s hardline and repressive religious conservative government, but this move may put even worse people in charge, not to mention encourage more terrorism…I hope not.) Another reason to feel your country is out of control, in the hands of people too stupid to do their jobs? And didn’t Trump run on a “no foreign wars?” platform? And of course this rocks the stock market and boosts the price of gasoline. This is on top of skyrocketing inflation that Trump lied about not existing in his looong, meandering and completely false SOTU address.

But also, today, the sun was shining, some signs of spring, like these branches of cherry with the rising moon. Glenn and I went to the bookstore, walked on the water in Kirkland. I spent almost all day on Friday doing various tests for cancer in my thyroid, liver, testing my immune system problems, and it was tiring and discouraging, so I needed a whole day to recover before I could get out and about. One thing about chronic illness that people who are healthy may not know is the amount of time, energy and money is really takes. We had to prepay $500 for those tests, too, and we are not overflowing with money right now—which always makes me think about those who do NOT have good insurance. Are there always reasons for hope? Yes. Are there also days that feel like they drain all hope from you? Also yes.

Female Anna’s Hummingbird

Writing Through Hard Times

I have a few friends bringing out books soon, and they have told me how they struggle to continue to write, to even dare to post about their new books, or do readings, or any normal things.

I feel this pressure and anxiety as well—how do you write through the most stressful times I’ve ever experienced in my life? How relevant does poetry (or AWP, or a new book) feel in the face of women losing their rights to thier bodies, facing a new war, facing threats to our voting rights? Can women in particular be expected to just go about business as usual? How can we deal with personal crises on top of political stress?

February sunshine, me

I try to spend time noticing nature, spending time reading, trying to deal with each crisis as it comes and just do the best I can. Friends are also a huge support. And can poetry save a country, save women’s rights to vote or use birth control, help us heal our own bodies or those of our loved one? Writers are storytellers, and storytellers have an important roll to help people remember moments in lives, in history. If the American mythology seems to be teetering on the edge of insanity right now, how can we set that right? Can writing our own versions of mythology sound a note of hope, of justice, or reason? I hope so. I certainly don’t think it helps the world for artist to silence themselves in the face of so much uncertainty. Reading books about apocalypses helped me process the anxiety of the nuclear war threat of the eighties as a kid—perhaps something you’re writing right now will do the same for some other person? Speaking your truth—whatever that is—seems more important in a world where false information spreads like wildfire and hate tries to suppress everything kind, joyful, empowering. Is what you and I have to say about our daily lives, our work, our love lives, our disappointments and hopes important right now? I would argue, perhaps even more important than we know.

Missing AWP? Me too. Celebrating Wins, New Glasses, and Quail

Alysa Liu jumping for joy and silver and bronze winning skaters clapping

Missing AWP? Me too. Celebrating Wins, New Glasses, and Quail

Look at this picture from the gold medal winner for women’s figure skating, and her celebratory leap in the air. And if you haven’t done it yet, watch Alysa Liu’s gold-medal winning skate—I promise even if you don’t like skating, it will inspire joy. If they don’t cut it, you can see how afterwards she curses as she celebrates, as well as hugging the bronze medalist and swinging her around in a spontaneous hug. It reminded me of the poetry world, how we need to celebrate our wins with this much joy, and the wins of our friends and colleagues.

On that note, AWP. I’m not going to be there this year, as I am instead taking a trip home to Cincinnati to visit my father, who is ill, and family. Which is not to say, I will not miss seeing my friends. But AWP can be a lot even for completely healthy young people, much less people with disabilities and illnesses that tend to flare up under stress. And right now, I have to prioritize family, and if I only have so much strength, energy, and money for travel, I’m going to choose home over a conference. If you’re going, I hope you have a wonderful time, and post lots of pictures.

Me with new glasses at Island Books

I did have good news from my yearly eye exam (a must for all folks with MS)—my optic nerve was looking less damaged than last year. I also got a replacement for my reading glasses which were snapped in half, and my regular glasses, which I had somehow gotten allergic to—polymers not a good match for me, apparently. (?)

I also had good news from my poet friend, Kelli Russell Agodon—she got her first poem in the March issue of Poetry, “Trying to Sext My Partner, Who Replies ‘I Can’t Get My Camera to Work.'” It’s not up on their web site yet, but I got my issue and so Charlotte the literary kitten and I had so much fun reading it.

Besides the women’s figure skating, I also enjoyed the US women’s hockey team win—five of them are Seattle Torrent hockey players!

I also had a visit from a whole covey of quail, one of my favorite birds.

Valentine’s Day and Artist Dates, Birds in the Cold, Melancholy, AI and Voting Rights

Me at Roq La Rue with two paintings by Dewi Plass at their Spectacle du Petite show

Valentine’s Day and Artist Dates

Hello there my friends. I hope you had a good week. I am smiling in the picture at left but have felt heavy and a little melancholy all week. James Van Der Beek passed away from cancer, and that seemed strange, as he was four years younger than me, with a lot of little kids—didn’t seem fair, though I realize these days “fair” doesn’t go as far as it used to. I felt a little under the weather—MS acting up, sinus problems—and the whole “GOP wants to take away women’s voting rights”—and that the “Save America (from women)” act passed the House already, terrible betrayers of democracy.

So I didn’t have the highest hopes for Valentine’s Day, but we took the arduous trip downtown and back to attend the Spectacle du Petite show at Roq La Rue, which features a ton of wonderful artists including my current art crush, Dewi Plass, whose works Glenn photographed me with. Below are some of the pieces, including the fennec fox piece, for you to enjoy. However, I recommend a visit to the show! Glenn also took me to a downtown bookstore, so I could peruse lit mags and magazines not available to me on the East side. The whole thing wore me out, but I was happy I went. Glenn made duck and strawberry cupcakes, and we had dinner at home, which was lovely. (I also received two rejections—one book, one lit mag—on Valentine’s Day, which seems like a slap in the face. Not cool, places that reject on V-Day. It’s a hard day for a lot of people! Geeze!)

Birds in the Cold, AI, and more on Voting Rights

The depressing new reliance on AI—and how it’s using up water resources and making electricity more expensive for all of us and does very little good and a lot of ill—was perfectly captured in this cartoon.

Glenn was reading Margaret Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale, which I hadn’t read in a long time (though I read the sequels more recently), and I was reminded of how women in that novel became property—first their voting rights revoked, then their access to their own bank accounts and credit cards. The “Save America” act will make it so women who have different names than their birth certificates cannot vote, legally. This includes me. It made me so mad I looked at changing my name back—but it involved a lot of paperwork. I have a passport, but most American women do not. That said, it’s time to get a passport if you don’t already have one, as it is still “acceptable” proof that women aren’t fake voters, apparently. Anyway, if they come for my bank account or credit cards, I’m out. I did find it funny that the Appalachian area was not part of the new fundamentalist, authoritarian government of Gilead, even in that book. Those are my people!

Below are some birds I caught in the brief sunshine when they came out to get a snack, we’re supposed to have four days of cold slushy snow/rain coming up, which is super fun, for both us and the birds. I’m so ready for spring to be here already—I even spent a few minutes gardening in the last week, getting it ready.

So how are you doing, my friends? I am feeling too discouraged to do much writing or submitting. I don’t think I’m processing the “family member with terminal cancer” as well as I think I should, too—feeling the pre-grief and trying to figure out how I’m going to get well enough to visit—Cincinnati is a rough trip, very few handicapped-friendly (and mold-unfriendly) places to stay, and I always get sick when I visit. I feel a little overwhelmed with my own health stuff (at least two biopsies in the near future for me, blech, which I keep putting off until I’m a little well-er, which seems to not be happening fast) to deal with bad news, Olympic controversies, governmental evil, maybe the need to escape the entire country…and a radical feminist and disability-activist book that doesn’t seem to be getting traction with the “right” publishers. If this isn’t the right time for this kind of art, I don’t know when it will be—when this awful government has not only cancelled the NEA but also all art? I don’t know, kids. I am holding on to small beauties—birds out my window, art on the walls and in my mind, books and poetry (mostly other people’s). What are you holding onto?