"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
1 Sept. – 15 Dec. reading for an issue devoted to authors who are also women.
“(And anyone not currently a monogender dude; we define gender ≠ sex.) Work does not need to be about gender. Send us wild things.”
Storm Cellar is a national literary arts magazine with a special emphasis on the Midwest, appearing in print and ebook editions. We want your prose, poems, chimeras, and ideas penned on envelopes in buses and train cars. The magazine aims to publish amazing work by new and established writers and artists, present a range of styles and approaches, and be as un-boring as it can. If you write one thing to be read while waiting for the all-clear to sound, send it here.”
Been helping my son put together his costume for the Renaissance Faire. He’s reaching back to his roots in the coastal lowlands of eastern North Carolina, and going as a pirate this year, appropriate since he lived the earliest years of his life only twenty miles from where the infamous Edward Teach–Blackbeard–made his home in Bath, NC. In fact, archaeologists from my alma mater, East Carolina University, worked in conjunction with the NC Department of Cultural Resources, to raise Balckbard’s ship, the Queen Anne’s Revenge, from those wild waters on my beloved Outer Banks. (ECU’s mascot is a Pirate 🙂 I am purple and gold forever! 🙂 )
All this work on his costume, plus, I think, the current political situation, probably led to the dream I had last night where I was pouring beer for ruffians in some steampunk version of an 18th century tavern.
Make art about pirates. Or inspired by the word ‘pirate.’
“The falling leaves, all over the forest, are protecting the roots of my plants. Only look at what is to be seen, and you will have garden enough, without deepening the soil in your yard. We have only to elevate our view a little to see the whole forest as a garden.” ~Thoreau
Make art about ‘garden enough.’
Driving back from WV, I stopped for gas, and Road Angel Louise tells me her story of trying to recover from the recent flooding, what it’s like to lose so much. “Just go from here, I reckon,” she said.
Make art about rebounding from tragedy, about how we ‘just go from here.’
Dreamt someone I love brought me apples, Honey Crisp and Red Delicious, Granny Smith and Winesap, even a couple of Arkansas Black. He sliced one with his sharp knife, and smiling, said, Here you go, Missy. A taste of what’s to come.
Make art about the taste of autumn. Or about what’s to come.
The most recent book from one of my always favorite poets, Pattiann Rogers.
Ms. Rogershas published eleven books of poetry; two book-length essay collections, The Dream of the Marsh Wrenand The Grand Array; and A Covenant of Seasons, poems and monotypes, in collaboration with Joellyn Duesberry. She is the recipient of two NEA grants, a Guggenheim Fellowship, and a Lannan Literary Award for poetry. She lives in Colorado.
“I believe Pattiann Rogers walks the world at night when we are sleeping. Her poems are translations of our dreaming life—what we know to be true but fail to remember. We read her words, sentence by sentence, image by image, and return to all that is beautiful, mysterious, and erotic.” —Terry Tempest Williams
“Pattiann Rogers is a visionary of reality, perceiving the material world with such intensity of response that impulse, intention, meaning, interconnections beyond the skin of appearance are revealed. Her language, unmarred by clichés, springs up out of a sense of how various and endlessly amazing are the forms of life and the human ability to notice them.” —Denise Levertov
“How the densely detailed, thickly textured, imaged stanzas of Pattiann Rogers result in so much light-as-air wonderment is surely one of the greater questions—one of the greater magics—of contemporary poetry. But however it happens, we must be thankful—for both the science text and the psalter of her work, for both the physical abundance and for the spirit flimmering over it.” —Albert Goldbarth