Posted in Poetry, Teaching, Writing

Why I Love Writing Club

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Two years ago, I began assisting with my middle school’s Writing Club, and last year I took over as sponsor. It makes for a long Friday afternoon, and sometimes I need to just sit in the silence of my car for a few minutes before I drive home so I can get the ringing in my ears to stop*, but overall it’s been a very pleasurable experience.

* Ringing in your ears? It’s a Writing Club. Doesn’t that mean you spend the hour listening to the peaceful scratching of pen on paper? Um, no.

At my school’s Writing Club, the focus is on the word Club more than on the word Writing. The hour after school is as much about students gushing over their latest literary crush, arguing over which fandom is better: Harry Potter or Percy Jackson, and complaining about the perils of writer’s block, as it is about writing the great teen novel. We do eventually put gel pen to journal most days, but first there are beach ball ice breaker games and a general LOUD decompressing after a long day/week. Some students come to the club with works in progress—comics, sci-fi novels, poetry—that they add to or work on. Others sit down with a blank page and see what happens. Some just come for the company. Because, most importantly, Writing Club is a place where these young writers can be among their own kind and let their inner selves out to play without judgment.

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Random gift from a Writing Club kid. It hangs on my fridge.

My favorite part is when we end with sharing time because these kids, silly or not, are killing it with their poems and stories, and they’re not afraid to put themselves on paper or take their fiction to dark, shadowy places. Last week at our first meeting of the year (yes, we started Writing Club on a full moon Friday the 13th) one girl shared a heart-wrenchingly honest poem written to her math class crush, another read a haunting piece full of dramatic imagery, and another shared a witty, rhyming poem about the latest trends that had both me and our principal in stitches, even though we didn’t get all the references. These kids always inspire me. Which brings me to my other favorite thing about Writing Club… It often gets me writing.

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Poem I wrote during Writing Club

I’ve drafted unexpected blog posts in Writing Club and written poems based on prompts, and even wrote the first page of a story about a zombie crocodile that I later turned into something I really like. The ideas that come to me in this setting are things that probably would never cross my mind elsewhere, as if I, too, can channel my inner “young writer” around all this creative youth.

I’m grateful for Writing Club, and I’m looking forward to more meetings with this year’s bunch of unique little oddballs. They are my people.

Posted in Life, Poetry, Reading, Teaching, Writing

News, Updates, and a Little Havoc

Hello! Happy Summer!

It’s the end of July, which means…

1) Going outside in Austin in the afternoon = recreating the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.

2) The start of the new school year is close enough that it can no longer be ignored, so I’m desperately trying to finish all the books I’ve started this summer.

3) It’s time for some summer updates.

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New Publications!

product_thumbnailThis summer, my work appeared in two new publications. You can read my humorous poem “Conquest or Coincidence” in this year’s issue of Best Austin Poetry, available at Lulu for only $1.75 + shipping. My poem, which is about the time my very fat childhood cat caught a mouse, is in good company with several poems from the talented and entertaining Diana Conces and many other gifted Texas poets.

IMG_20190710_094437535Also, I’m happy to report that my creepy flash fiction story “Window,” which was published at Havok in May, was selected for their season one anthology, Rebirth. Print and Kindle versions are both available on Amazon. The forty-eight very short stories in the collection range from scary and suspenseful to hilarious and thought-provoking. I recommend “The Devil Went Down to Costco” by Stephanie Scissom to make you laugh, “Words” by Katherine Vinson to make you think, and “If These Walls Could Talk” by J.L. Knight to give you shivers.

New Shopping Opportunities!

isla_280x280.25948040_fd2syi7nThis summer, I updated the Shop page of my blog, added new items to my Etsy store, and created a Teachers Pay Teachers page. Check them out and see if there’s something there with your name on it. (Psst! Want a super-secret coupon? From now until September 1, use the code JULYBLOG at my Etsy shop to get 15% off your purchase!)

New Cat!

Back in the fall, we quickly went from being a four-pet family to a two-pet family when my two cats, Gink and Toby, passed away within three weeks of each other. Toby was eighteen and Gink, who had been my familiar since he was a kitten, was almost twenty years old. Suffice to say, their passing left a deep chasm in my heart and my home. We still have our dog, Uno, and our other twenty-year-old cat, Gabby, and I love them both SO much, but I missed my boys. So, in May, hubby and I adopted an eighteen-year-old cat with a thyroid condition.

Everyone, meet Sneakers.

 

Somehow, this sweet, handsome, friendly, charismatic little guy spent TWELVE YEARS in a shelter in Pennsylvania. I still don’t understand how he went so long without finding his forever home, but I’m so glad his journey led him to us. (You can read more about his adoption story in this interview with Austin Pets Alive.)

Sneakers is more like a big kitten than a senior cat. He talks in his sleep and snores and plays with toys and gets the zoomies around 11pm. He eats like a pig (both in volume and manners) and tries to stick his paws in whatever we’re eating as well, whether it’s cereal or salad. He follows Gabby around the house singing to her (unfortunately, she is deaf and therefore immune to his siren call) and plays bongos on the dog’s ribs when he walks by too close. Sneakers is such a character, and we’re so happy to be his family.

Also, I’d just like to say that I never intended to adopt an older cat. All the elderly cats we’ve had in the past have been homegrown. In fact, I’d been hoping to get a kitten in the next year or so. But after adopting Sneakers, I have to say… old cats are awesome. Consider giving one a chance. Check out the available senior kitties at Austin Pets Alive or visit your city’s local shelter.

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Well, that’s what’s new with me this summer. Writing, reading, weird trinkets, cats… the usual, really. What’s new with you?

 

Posted in Poetry, Reading

Making the Most of a Mess: 5 Book Title Found Poems

If there is a book lover out there who can pack a single box of books without opening, smelling, reading, or contemplating at least one, I haven’t met them yet. Then again, there are a lot of book lovers out there I haven’t met because we all spend so much time alone reading books. Did you know that secretly I’ve considered creating a meet-up for readers where we all meet at a comfy coffee shop, spend ten minutes introducing ourselves and telling each other what we’re reading, and then just read– silently– for the next hour? I have actually considered this multiple times. But I haven’t done it because of two very specific fears.

Very Specific Fear #1: Some bored extrovert will read the ad, grab a random book, and come to the meeting, but instead of reading, they will insist on talking to us the whole time. *shudder*

Very Specific Fear #2: That person will be me.

But, as usual, I digress.

I, personally, cannot pack a box of books without opening, smelling, reading, and contemplating several, if not all, of them. That can make packing up my classroom at the end of the year a fun but slow process. This year when I boxed up my large classroom library for summer, I made even more of a mess than usual. I had four piles going: books to be packed, books to be taken home to read over the summer (I will never read all of the books I brought home), books to give away, and books to be used in book title found poems before being placed in one of the other piles.

I made these giant, messy mountains of books (and knocked them over more than once) just before STAAR testing. During STAAR testing, I stared at the books longingly, and did a little rearranging in my head. Then, after STAAR testing, while my exhausted students watched an episode of The Twilight Zone that they’d read earlier in the year as a teleplay, I happily stacked, unstacked, and restacked my books until they were in the right poetic order. Then I packed them up for summer.

Then I came home and made more poems out of the books there.

Here they are:

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I have lived a thousand years.
Ask me no questions–
I can’t keep my own secrets.
My thirteenth winter
life, the universe and everything
found things hidden,
knots in my yo-yo string.
When the sea turned to silver,
the girl I used to be
ungifted my own true name–
just my luck.
That was then, this is now.
Come with me
through the woods
where the red fern grows.
I will always write back.

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When the outsiders runaway
it looks like this–
all the broken pieces
falling into place.
Listen, slowly:
Trouble don’t last.
Breathe.

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Ack! The book THE GIRL FROM THE WELL was supposed to be in this stack after FALLING OVER SIDEWAYS, but it was left out on accident. Oops.

Once Upon a River

Seven little Australians,
children of blood and bone,
linger
five feet apart.
Imaginary girls shout,
voices in the air
negotiating with the dead.
Things fall apart,
the madwoman upstairs
falling over sideways,
the girl from the well
mapping the bones
in the lake of the woods.

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The Night Diary

Within these walls
the sky is everywhere.

Love is a mix tape;
I was told there’d be cake.

Deep dark fears
linger
sailing alone around the room.

I touch the future.
I know why the caged bird sings.
I’m nobody! Who are you?

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Prom Dates From Hell (a poem in two voices)

Dear Evan Hansen,
I am not a serial killer.

………………………………………………. How did you get this number?

Even cowgirls get the blues.
Time you let me in.

………………………………………………. I feel a little jumpy around you.

Let’s pretend this never happened.

………………………………………………. As you wish.

Good night, sleep tight.
There is no long distance now
from you to me.

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