So, um, yeah.
Hi. Long time.
What can I say? I was busy:
But look, I swear, I was writing the whole time:
And listen, while this gig for Smart Magazine's blog started as a quirky prego column, then morphed into a journal slash now-you-know about the NICU experience, it's getting the words down that counts. I'm experimenting with this nonfiction thing, with writing it straight as opposed to my usual "telling it slant" MO.
And I'm not too bad at it. And it's fun. And maybe it helps people to connect, or hear about something positive coming from something scary.
Most importantly, perhaps, it did for me that great thing that making art does: gives you a purpose. Gets you through a hard time, helps you make sense, and make peace.
But I still need to get my literary on.
When evening sickness (I do everything backward, I swear) got me down last summer, I started writing new poems, poems I didn't have earmarked for a book. Just poems. Writing to write. Imagine that?
Then little guy came barreling into the world and everything turned upside down. But still, I wanted to write, to feel that release, to try to make things pretty.
Because the world needs more poems about people's babies? you ask.
Yes, actually. I'd never want to live in a world that doesn't value new life. Even if my poems about new life are crappy.
Winged City Press has, in a tremendous show of not thinking they're crappy, offered to publish a chapbook of them, which is available now as an e-book, and in handmade print copies by special order.
And get this. She wants to donate 10 percent of the proceeds to the March of Dimes, who do great work to raise awareness about preventing infant prematurity. And I'm putting any profit toward Jax's medical bills. Every little bit helps.
Not all of the poems in the chapbook, titled Antidote, are about Jax, though. There are two guys in my life, so half are for Jon, in tribute to a life making/made. A real life, with real imperfections and uncertainties, and happiness in spite of them.
I hope you'll check it out.
Insert cliche pun about my "labor" of love. :P
Last but not least, I hope to be around more. I've experimented with what I want this blog to be, from a personal website, to strictly an author's website, to a journal of my writing projects. The blog may be having an identity crisis, but I know who I am most days, so I'll try to reflect that here.
With actual blog posts. Promise.