loose leaf and spiral bound

Remember how I went off on a rant about how I hate going back to my "Graveyard" folder and looking through shitty old poems? Well, apparently I challenged myself. A double-dog-dare, if you will. Stupid me. I took three of the poems that were in the The Graveyard and resurrected them. Just plunked all of them "as is" into one document and went to work. This is what happened. My own little Frankenpoem...not sure I love it, but I don't think I hate it. I've titled it, " The Graveyard Revisited ": My broken pride drove me home this morning. The radio massaged into my brain endless lines and lyrics of love songs, until my pain puked me into slumber. Cuddled so close to nightmares of things I could have, would have, should have said. But, you do not know how to operate a touch tone phone. So instead, my confused confidence will hide out in what used to be your spot on the couch. I'll keep sleeping on this couch. It'll keep warm from the te...

It has recently been pointed out to me that I am that terribly annoying person who is constantly looking for the good in every situation. Gag, right? I know. Alas, this is another one of my "things" that I do. Car broke down? No problem, your new adventure will be riding the bus and making all sorts of fun friends. Washed your wool sweater in hot water and it shrunk? Who cares! Now your doggy has some trendy new apparel. The only time this is not my "thing" is when I am reviewing some of my older or unfinished poems that I have relegated to my "Graveyard" file. I have a very hard time going through those old poems already deemed craptacular and finding a solid nugget to work with. This is unfortunate because I write half started/finished poems down all of the time. I enjoy it. I like getting the brainwaves going and the words rolling off of my tongue and there is never a better feeling than knowing you are just absolutely knocking it out of the park and ...

I know I have talked about "the feeling" before.  You know, the particular tingle that starts at the top of your head and moves down to the nape of your neck, out through your shoulders, and ends up as goosebumps all along your arms? "The feeling" that reverberates through your spine and ends somewhere around your tailbone? This is the feeling I want when I write. Sometimes I can bait the feeling with music. What songs specifically, you ask? Well, I've got a short list right here for you! No, I didn't go all "High Fidelity" and rank them and group them by category. It's just a list, in no particular order... Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd Wonderwall - Oasis The Light - Common Tattoos on this Town - Jason Aldean Love Like You - Paper Tongues Closer to the Edge - 30 Seconds to Mars To Make You Feel My Love - Garth Brooks (yes, I did mean this version, not Adele) Fall to Pieces - Velvet Revolver (No, most definitely not the Patsy Cline s...

So, while having a quick chat online with Jimmy Blackwell (...go ahead, click on it and check out some of his writing. Do it.) about writing dialogue for fiction pieces, he said/wrote this particular phrase that jumped up and punched me in the throat. He said, " Rather those who possess the skill to tell a captivating story have the power to tame the world ". WHOA! Even though I am total crap at writing dialogue, I know when an opportunity for a poem is knocking on my door. I did what any normal girl would do and proposed that we each take that line and come up with a piece based on it, and then see what happens. We gave ourselves a week. Well, it has been a week and here is my piece titled, The Storyteller: Storyteller. Yes, a story yeller. From the rooftops to the rocking chairs. I am. The believer, doer, knower, feeler. Dream painter, heart healer risk maker, and love taker. I am all of this and so are you. Words falling from my mouth like rain. Catch them on your to...

Do you ever get the feeling that when people talk about creative writing, they are implying air-quotes? Like "Creative Writing" (sigh, eye roll, air quotes)? As if it is something to be mocked? I really don't think they understand that creative writing is much more than sonnets, soliloquies, and iambic pentameter. It is song lyrics, movie scripts, and stand up comedy routines. It is fortune cookie slips, advertising copy, and op-ed pieces. Know what you don't ever hear: "I'm sorry, did I hear that correctly? You're a rocket scientist? How useful is that in everyday life? I can't believe your parents supported that college major!".  Sheesh. To each their own, right? Yes. I am a writer. A creative one at that. A friend of mine found this on the interwebs and sent it to me. Yes, she was also an English major in college. How'd you guess?

What a way to spend my lunch hour, eh?  Here's the seventh part to my Zodiac writing prompt exercise titled, Contra: Your memory is uncanny. How do you recall these details? The extra fine curves and lines of the lies we happily told each other. The way you can describe our first meeting makes me nervous. I remember it much differently. And with difficulty. I thought you wanted only yourself for company. Possibly your scotch. That I wasn't good enough. Not funny enough. Not clever. Not captivating. Now I find you wanted me as more. As all. As yours. Definitely not his. Living inside past memories and dreams of the future is dangerous. (For both of us.) Why remain silent about the here and now? I am not a bird in a cage to set free and watch. Not serendipity in human form. Arms out and fingers grabbing for chances. If you want me, show me. Come and get me As a woman, I may be a contradiction. But you, are just plain contrary.

...unless you are going to say something negative about me. Then you can just keep it to yourself. No, no. Seriously. I need to be honest here. I have not submitted a single piece of writing since June. There, I said it. It seems like I have been writing some new stuff and editing some existing pieces, but I have simply been too lazy to submit. That is all there is to it. I am not nervous about submission and am not anxious about rejection letters - I am just being lazy. This is a seriously sad state of affairs because I will certainly never get published if I don't submit. I recognize this vicious circle and have instead opted to watch episodes of Weeds on Netflix. Well, no time like the present to make some changes. Guess I'll go look at my submission spreadsheet (Yes, spreadsheet. Don't judge me.) and get my ass in gear. Here is my dog Jasper being as lazy as I feel. It is possible that his reluctance to help me fold laundry is due to his lack of opposable th...