Carie Juettner

Poetry Reading at Malvern Books

Last week, I was fortunate enough to read some poetry to a great audience at Malvern Books in Austin, Texas. Malvern is a unique bookstore that, according to their website, “specializes in visionary literature and poetry from independent publishers, with a focus on lesser-known and  emerging voices the world needs to hear.” They opened a little over a year ago and have quickly made a name for themselves in the Austin literary community with their distinctive selection of titles and the many events they host. My reading was part of Raw Paw’s Mind Maze series, and I was honored to share the podium with Tina Posner and Jack Brannon.

Malvern Books records all of their events, so you can see my full poetry reading on YouTube. The host’s very nice introduction of me begins at 2:20. If you choose to watch the video, you will hear me read a few haiku, as well as “August in Texas,” “Growing Up on the Oregon Trail,” and my award-winning poem “Balanced Rock, Big Bend National Park,” among others. The recording cuts out just before the end of the last poem I read, which is a favorite of mine by Billy Collins. Click here to read the last few lines of “On Turning Ten.”

Please don’t stop with my video though. Take time to listen to the other readers as well. Tina Posner’s poem about her mother-in-law’s death has stuck with me since I heard it, and Jack Brannon’s reading of his own father-themed poetry paired with poems by Li-Young Lee was beautiful. All of our videos can be found on Malvern’s blog. Ours is the second event featured in this post.

I’m very grateful to Malvern Books and Raw Paw for inviting me to be a part of their event. It’s a wonderful bookstore and a wonderful place to hear poetry, so if you’re in Austin, stop by and see them. (And buy a book.)

Tip #8: Share Carefully

A couple of weeks ago, I posted seven Tips for Taking the Stress Out of New Year’s Resolutions, and today I want to add one bonus piece of advice.

At this point, you’ve celebrated your accomplishments from last year and have made a list of balanced, attainable goals/resolutions/intentions/wishes for 2015. (Right? If not, there’s still time. After all, Tip #3 is Ignore the Calendar.)

Now what?

Tip #8 = Share Carefully

In life, there’s a fine line between sharing too much and sharing too little and I’m usually on the TMI side of it. I’ve learned the hard way that sharing my resolutions with everybody is a bad idea. After all, it’s possible that you won’t accomplish all of your goals this year, especially if you end up accomplishing new things that you didn’t even set out to do. It happens, and being flexible is okay. But it’s hard to remember that when people keep asking you about x and you’ve already moved on to y. It can lead to some awkward conversations. So remember that it’s okay to keep some things to yourself.

Then again, if you don’t share your resolutions with anybody, it becomes pretty easy to pretend they don’t exist, and that’s not good either. You need to have someone in your life who asks how things are going once in a while and helps keep you accountable.

My advice is share, but share carefully. The exact formula is up to you, but I like to share all my resolutions with one person (my husband gets to be the lucky recipient of the full list) and I choose a few select goals to share with the world. (Click here to see the ones I shared last year. I get three checks and a check-minus for that list. Not too shabby.)

Here are the resolutions I want everybody to know about for 2015:

* I will complete my first poetry manuscript and submit it to a contest.
* I will read at least 50 books. Some of the titles on my must-read list are:

– The Shining by Stephen King
– The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
– Song of Myself by Walt Whitman
– Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson
– Masterpieces of Terror and the Supernatural, edited by Marvin Kaye
(I’ve been picking my way through this anthology for a couple of years now. It’s time to finish it.)

* I will participate in the World Horror Convention in Atlanta in May. (Note: This does not say I will “go” to the convention. I’m already going. I’ve got tickets and plane reservations and a hotel room and a posse of two writer friends to travel with. It’s a done deal. My resolution is to participate. When you fly across the country to hang out with other lovers of horror, that’s no time to be shy. I plan to be present every second of the weekend and soak up as much inspiration as possible.)
* I will continue to monitor my use of have to, need to, and want to. (<– This is the best resolution I’ve ever made, and I make it again every year. Read about how it started here.)

Feel free to check in now and then and ask me how things are going. And if you have a resolution you want to share with the world, post it in the comments below!

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NOTE: This blog turns one year old this weekend! To celebrate, I updated the About page and added a FAQ tab. Head over there to find out if you’ve been pronouncing my last name correctly in your head. Chances are, you haven’t. 🙂

A Blank Page and an Open Mind

Three years ago, I sat in a coffee shop with a brand new journal, some colored pens, a stack of magazines, a pair of scissors, and a glue stick. I’d just decided to end my teaching career and become a writer. Faced with the opportunity in front of me, I felt both excited and overwhelmed in equal measure. After all, I didn’t exactly know what being a writer looked like. So I did what I always do when I need to figure things out. I sat down with a blank page and an open mind.

This is what I produced:

This found poem is still one of my favorite things. I re-read it a couple of times a year, and it never fails to inspire me anew. The journal it’s in is no longer blank. I stayed in that coffee shop for hours, filling it with ideas, story beginnings, homeless lines of poetry, and the very first to do lists for my new life as a writer. With every word I wrote down, I felt more confident, more sure of my decision. By the time I came home, I still didn’t know exactly what it meant to be a writer, but I was ready to find out.

There’s some good stuff in that journal. Once in a while I open it up and find an idea that’s ripened into something juicy. Some of the vagrant lines of poetry have found homes; others still wait patiently. But my favorite thing about it is the way it serves as a concrete reminder of where I started and how much I’ve learned. Three years ago, my to do list included items like “Research steps to publishing a novel” (as if it were that simple) and “Find a third publication to submit poetry” (because back then I had only two credits to my name and no idea just how many opportunities there are for submitting work).

When I look at this journal, and the found poem that started it all, I can’t help but wonder what the next three years will teach me. I guess there’s only one way to find out.

She dusts off her to do list and…