"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

Posts tagged ‘FutureCycle Press’

Daily Prompt Love <3 Burning Building

20 February 2019 

“you say love is a burning building: then run in:”–JP Dancing Bear

Make art about that burning building. 

Dean burning

Very Special Call for Submissions Love <3 FutureCycle Press and Good Works Review

The wonderful Robert S. King and Diane Kistner at FutureCycle Press are launching a new journal: Good Works Reviewnow open for submissions. 

From the website: 

“Submissions to our first issue are now open (see guidelines) for poetry, short fiction, literary essays, and black-and-white artwork. We will not publish online but in an annual printed issue along with a Kindle e-book version, usually in December of each year.

Like Kentucky Review, this new publication is part of FutureCycle Press’s Good Works Projects. All proceeds from sales of GWR are donated to the ACLU.

Website: http://goodworksreview.futurecycle.org/

Guidelines: https://futurecycleflash.submittable.com/submit

Monday Must Read: Joel Peckham, God’s Bicycle

joel peckhamJoel Peckham is a scholar, essayist and poet who has published a book of essays, two books of poetry, and two chapbooks His work has appeared in many literary and academic journals including The Southern Review, Prairie Schooner, The Black Warrior Review, Riverteeth, The North American Review and American Literature Currently he is an Assistant Professor of Regional Literature and Creative Writing at Marshall University.

“A Chevy up on blocks is only an eyesore
to the faithless.”-from “Husks”

In GOD’S BICYCLE, Joel Peckham’s fifth collection of poetry, he offers a spiritual road mix for 21st-century America. In poems that travel from the heartland through Appalachia to New England, he sings a song crafted from his own strange brew of off-kilter, irreverent psalms, prayers, hymns, aubades, and elegies in praise and homage to a fragmented but beautiful landscape and people. Drawing as much from rockabilly as Whitman, these poems are always intense and often exuberant, even in their struggle for the kind of hope that can “rise green and leafy from a bitter soil.”

Joel’s Website

Buy Joel’s Beautiful Books

God’s Bicycle

Body Memory

Resisting Elegy

Why Not Take All of Me

The Heat of What Comes

 

Read More from Joel Online

 

Joel on Youtube

Interview 

Reading 

 

Happy Reading!

xo

Mary

Reading at Longwood this week!

Okay my Virginia lovelies! 

I’m thrilled to be part of the Longwood Authors’ Reading Series, this coming Wednesday! 

Wednesday, October 19, 2016 at 8pm

Wygal Auditorium on Longwood’s campus

Reception (Free food!) to follow. 

I’ll be reading from my newest book, A Little Blood,  A Little Rain, as well as The Night I Heard Everything, both from FutureCycle Press.

And maybe…. we’ll have a lil contest and give away a couple free copies of the new book! 😉 

 

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Book Give Away! Enter Now for a Chance to Win My Latest Book, A Little Blood, A Little Rain

Goodreads Give-Away!

Because FutureCycle Press and Diane Kistner rock!!

Enter to win a copy of my latest book A Little Blood, A Little Rain!

 

/Users/dkistner/Google Drive/Current Work/Mary Carroll-Hackett/C

So Excited! Readings Scheduled for Fall 2016!

Sooo excited! 😀 Woot!!!

Readings scheduled so far for this fall in West Virginia (this coming weekend! Thank you Love you Mary Imo Stike!), two in October: one here at Longwood, and one in the Charlotte area (Thank you Love you Jonathan Kevin Rice!), and then in December in WInston Salem (Thank you Love you Kathryn Milam!)

And BIG GRATITUDE to the fabulous generous editors who made these crazy lil books possible–Karen Kelsay Davies with Kelsay Books and Diane Kistner and Robert S. King with FutureCycle Press

! Y’all rock!

The Birds of Grief

This week I keep going back to a poem I wrote a couple of years ago, about grief, about sheer physicality of grief and loss. About feeling helpless. About how loss, no matter what, belongs to all of us. 

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I Want to Bring the Birds

inside, hold them in my hands, tuck them inside my shirt, claws and all, feel the sharp tic of each frightened beak, surround them with my fingers, cradle them against the cage of my ribs, whisper shh shh shh—until they each find and linger in their place: the titmice tatting nests into my hair, crested sparrows and juncos perched and singing from my feet, the jays who see me as so much meat, supplier of suet and otherwise foolish and useless, each take a shoulder, their alarm squawk sudden and hard as a couple of crows stand sentry on my back. The chickadees, those flying golf balls with their punk rock eyes and ebony mohawks, bossy and brazen, take my ears, letting me know just how they see this whole thing going, while the shy nuthatch hides, its cinnamon shadow disappearing under my shirt as it hops up my ribs and nuzzles in like a newborn near my heart. A pair of doves, and then another, their wings ash gray and spotted with apricot, nestle in on the soft give of my belly; I touch them with just the tips of my fingers, hoping, praying, they’ll teach me the tender songs only possible in the dark. One by one, they all settle in, on my limbs, my skin, feathering, resting, and maybe, so will I, settle for real, for the first time in years, as I hear and feel their heartbeats steady, slow, ease finally, into a companion rhythm with my own. Or mine to theirs? In my dreams, it doesn’t matter. In my dreams,we are the same.

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This poem is included in my collection The Night I Heard Everything from FutureCycle Press

birds of grief

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