"This work is unlike any other, in its range of rich, conjuring imagery and its dexterity, its smart voice. Carroll-Hackett doesn’t spare us—but doesn’t save us—she draws a blueprint of power and class with her unflinching pivot: matter-of-fact and tender." —Jan Beatty

Archive for the ‘Bless the Day’ Category

Monday Must Read! Ann Tweedy: The Body’s Alphabet

Tweedy, AnnAnn Tweedy‘s first full length book, The Body’s Alphabet, was published by Headmistress Press in 2016, and it is currently a finalist for both a Lambda Literary Award and a Golden Crown Literary Society Award. Ann’s poetry has been published in Rattle, Clackamas Literary Review, Berkeley Poetry Review, Wisconsin Review, and many other places. She is also the author of two chapbooks—White Out (Green Fuse Press 2013) and Beleaguered Oases (tcCreative Press 2010)—and she has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a Best of the Net Award. In addition to writing poetry, she has served as a law professor, most recently at the former Hamline University School of Law in St. Paul, and is a leading scholar on both tribal civil jurisdiction and bisexuality and the law. She currently serves as in-house counsel for the Muckleshoot Tribe in Washington State. Ann grew up in Southeastern Massachusetts and graduated from Bryn Mawr College and the University of California, Berkeley School of Law. She is an M.F.A. candidate at Hamline University.

Buy Ann’s lovely book!

The Body’s Alphabet

Praise for The Body’s Alphabet

“This collection of poems adheres to the bodies of mothers and daughters, lovers and partners, childhood and children. It reminds us how close and distant we can be, at all times, to each other, to nature, to living, and to death.”

–Trish Hopkinson, Literary Mama

“Ann Tweedy’s collection The Body’s Alphabet is a book of in-betweens – in-between homes, in-between loves, in-between sexualities. It is a book about motherhood and memory, and the space we keep for our childhood long after we have grown up around it. Though Tweedy begins The Body’s Alphabet with the lines ‘I tread through / the world mindful that upsets / follow unguarded movement’ (1), over the course of the collection she finds strength in those quiet and delicate moments, and in doing so steps out from her own carefully crafted betweenness to affirm her presence in the work.”

–Rebecca Valley, Drizzle Review

Home is the structure you build when nowhere else will have you,” writes Ann Tweedy in this gutsy, no-nonsense collection of poems built on a precarious and often tender journey through homes no longer available to return to. The result is neither sadness nor nostalgia; it is hard, clean narrative of self-preservation and survival, fitted with unexpected joy. I feel such kinship with these poems, their testament to the strength and determination of women and men who struggle to build life anew, and to find home and happiness in a world of travail. What a blessed space this book is: a home for the wayward soul.
D. A. Powell, American Poet

Ann Tweedy’s first book is a brave and honest examination of liminality. In delicate lyrics she confesses to trespass, asking readers to question the boundaries between acts and identity, sexuality and family. The Body’s Alphabet  documents the poet’s courage, living openly as a bisexual feminist. Although childhood logic taught her that “home is the structure / you build when nowhere else will have you,” these beautiful poems knit and nest safe haven for a life spent gathering freedom.
Carol Guess, author of Doll Studies: Forensics

More From Ann Online!

http://queenmobs.com/2016/02/interview-ann-tweedy-by-mary-kasimor/

http://untitledcountry.blogspot.com/2011/02/issue-4-featured-poet-ann-tweedy.html

http://www.lavrev.net/2010/06/ann-tweedy.html

http://www.rattle.com/nature-essay-ann-tweedy/

http://www.literarymama.com/reviews/archives/2016/12/a-review-of-the-bodys-alphabet.html

Hear Ann Read!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZ6Woib8eSc

 

Happy Reading!

xo

Mary

Weekend Call For Submissions Love <3 x 2: Into the Void, and Thrice Press Seeking Novels

Into The Void Seeks Your Writing for Issue 5

Deadline: June 13, 2017

 

Print and digital lit mag Into the Void is now open to submissions of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and visual art to Issue 5. No theme and no reading fees. Send us the work that pulses out of you like a shock wave; that oozes from your pores like corrosive acid; that takes a bit of you and leaves it forever imprinted on the page. Contributors receive a magazine copy and infinite love and loyalty. Submission guidelines: intothevoidmagazine.com/submissions/.

 

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Thrice Publishing Open Call 2017 Novels

Deadline: July 31,2017

 

All guidelines are at this link:www.thricepublishing.com/submissions.html. Looking for surrealist work or material that breaks the bounds of convention.

 

 

Write on, y’all! 

submit

Daily Prompt Catch-Up <3 Wind, and Grace, and Hypocrisy

5 May 2017

Make art about what’s carried on the wind.

Carried-on-the-Wind

 

6 May 2017

Make art about being in the presence of Grace.

grace

 

7 May 2017

Make art about hypocrisy.

hypocrisy

Daily Prompt Love <3 Inspired by Congress

4 May 2017

Make art about

betrayal

Better Late Than Never Daily Prompt Love <3 Beautiful Creatures

3 May 2017

Every day I sling the door open to my classroom, and enter, looking across the room at those amazing students, and greet them with”Good morning, you beautiful creatures!”

I hadn’t thought much about it, until apparently I missed a day greeting them this way, and I heard about it 🙂 “You didn’t call us beautiful creatures!”

And they are–so beautiful–these young creatures striving, focusing, questioning, and reaching, always reaching, even when they’re not sure yet what it is they’re reaching for. Some stumble, and fall. Some create the wind itself as they move from place to place. Others are much too hard on themselves, harder than we old people could be, harder even than the unbelievable media and family and societal pressure they carry on their young shoulders every day.  They are creatures of grace, and incredible endurance, surviving, thriving even. in the mess we’ve left them.

They are dreamfog and summer storm and mountain clay and stardust. They are every road to everywhere, every path woven of hope and young hunger.

They are miraculous, these creatures, these wind dancers and fireaters, carrying their huge hearts out openly before them in their hands, offering them  like gifts, like the gifts that they are. ❤

They’re funny, and they’re compassionate, and they’re curious, and wise, so much wiser than they’re given credit for, than they give themselves credit for, and I learn from them every time we’re together in those rooms. Every day they teach me, so I never forget what it is to dream.

Tonight, we shared a meal, and I listened to presentations for projects ranging from the environmental and natural–water quality, animal rescue, waste conversion for fuel–to a cross-section of the humane–programs for kids in poverty, kids with disabilities, for educating kids in technology, free financial services for students and for the poor, projects to help the hungry.

Tonight, I saw the future, y’all 🙂 and no matter how hard it seems right now, that future? It is indeed filled with beautiful, beautiful, beautiful creatures.

Make art about young people, about what we owe them, about what we can learn from them. 

angel children

Daily Prompt Love <3 Ignorance

2 May 2017

Make art inspired by this quote. 

ignorance violence

Daily Prompt Love <3 Shame

1 May 2017

Read a story this morning about lunchrooms shaming poor children.

I cried for an hour. The scars of shame run so deep, follow us into adulthood, undermine the beauty and power of who we are at every turn, if it’s not healed. 

“I look in the mirror through the eyes of the child that was me.”― Judy Collins

Make art about childhood shame, about seeing that hurt child in your adult eyes, about healing shame. 

Monday Must Read! Natural State by Jon Tribble

Jon tribbleJon Tribble‘s first collection of poems, Natural State, was published by Glass Lyre Press in 2016. His second collection of poems, And There Is Many a Good Thing, will be published by Salmon Poetry in 2017. His poems have appeared in print journals and anthologies, including Ploughshares, Poetry, Crazyhorse, Quarterly West, and The Jazz Poetry Anthology, and online at The Account, Prime Number, and storySouth. He teaches at Southern Illinois University Carbondale, where, aside from being an excellent person and amazing literary citizen, he is the managing editor of Crab Orchard Review and the series editor of the Crab Orchard Series in Poetry published by SIU Press.

Buy Natural State!

Praise for Natural State

One of the poems in Jon Tribble’s Natural State observes that “the finest / moment of our lives may not matter at all.” That’s a devastating truth, but Tribble’s poems about growing up in Arkansas make every moment he renders matter, and matter deeply. Natural State may be Tribble’s first collection, but it’s as polished, mature, and wise as most poets’ fourth or fifth, and it not only matters, its publication is one of contemporary poetry’s finest moments. – David Jauss, author of You Are Not Here and Glossolalia: New & Selected Stories

More from Jon Online

StorySouth

Connotation Press

Atticus Review

Ghost Town

The Account

The Museum of Americana

The Whale

Prime Number

Rhino

 

Video

Interview & Reading! Literary Power Couple: Jon Tribble & Allison Joseph

 

and, in gratitude for all of the years of service Jon has given to our community–

Support Crab Orchard Review

 

Happy reading!

xo

Mary

 

Daily Prompt Love <3 Ways of Knowing

30 April 2017

I asked for a dream before going to sleep last night, a dream that would help me to solve a problem, answer a question I had. In the ways in which I was raised, dreams were just one of multiple ways of learning, ways of knowing.

Unlike mainstream Western culture, which tends to limit ‘knowing’ to what is categorized as ‘rational,’ indigenous cultures across the globe recognize multiple sources of knowledge an individual or community possess and can access, including traditional wisdom, dreaming, land knowing, symbols and images, shared knowledge through connectivity, and story, among others.

Make art about ways of knowing. 

ways of knowing

 

“Traveling as Family,” Still, and Always, No Matter the 100 Days

from Citizen, VI [On the train the woman standing]

Claudia Rankine

On the train the woman standing makes you understand there are no seats available. And, in fact, there is one. Is the woman getting off at the next stop? No, she would rather stand all the way to Union Station.

The space next to the man is the pause in a conversation you are suddenly rushing to fill. You step quickly over the woman’s fear, a fear she shares. You let her have it.

The man doesn’t acknowledge you as you sit down because the man knows more about the unoccupied seat than you do. For him, you imagine, it is more like breath than wonder; he has had to think about it so much you wouldn’t call it thought.

When another passenger leaves his seat and the standing woman sits, you glance over at the man. He is gazing out the window into what looks like darkness.

You sit next to the man on the train, bus, in the plane, waiting room, anywhere he could be forsaken. You put your body there in proximity to, adjacent to, alongside, within.

You don’t speak unless you are spoken to and your body speaks to the space you fill and you keep trying to fill it except the space belongs to the body of the man next to you, not to you.

Where he goes the space follows him. If the man left his seat before Union Station you would simply be a person in a seat on the train. You would cease to struggle against the unoccupied seat when where why the space won’t lose its meaning.

You imagine if the man spoke to you he would say, it’s okay, I’m okay, you don’t need to sit here. You don’t need to sit and you sit and look past him into the darkness the train is moving through. A tunnel.

All the while the darkness allows you to look at him. Does he feel you looking at him? You suspect so. What does suspicion mean? What does suspicion do?

The soft gray-green of your cotton coat touches the sleeve of him. You are shoulder to shoulder though standing you could feel shadowed. You sit to repair whom who? You erase that thought. And it might be too late for that.

It might forever be too late or too early. The train moves too fast for your eyes to adjust to anything beyond the man, the window, the tiled tunnel, its slick darkness. Occasionally, a white light flickers by like a displaced sound.

From across the aisle tracks room harbor world a woman asks a man in the rows ahead if he would mind switching seats. She wishes to sit with her daughter or son. You hear but you don’t hear. You can’t see.

It’s then the man next to you turns to you. And as if from inside your own head you agree that if anyone asks you to move, you’ll tell them we are traveling as a family.

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