Tag: writing

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Untroubled (my poem) was Published by Redrosethorn Magazine

My haibun, Untroubled, was published in Redrosethorn’s second annual issue: Home/Belonging.

Born in South Africa, raised in Cape Town, moved to Nelspruit, and immigrating to California, Kritsy Anne describes being stumped when asked “where are you from?” in their editor’s letter:

“…in the current political climate—the question of where we are from seers into the rhetoric that someone does not belong to the place they are living. I felt that cut when Americans asked me this question. I had the sense that I was being ‘othered’, reminded that was not one of them. And I began to discover the microaggressions hidden in plain sight uttered through our tongues.”

What’s your idea of home or place of belonging? This is the question the magazine asked every contributor.

“From these stories, I gleaned that what we are seeking is a planet that is protected so that she may thrive; freedom of movement and the liberty to express and be one’s true self, without prejudice, and being surrounded by love and support with people we care most deeply for. I think that this speaks volumes about what home and belonging truly mean to us.”

So, what’s my idea of home and belonging?

Untroubled, details a moment in a small family’s life. It’s physically messy with the caretakers obviously exhausted, but happiness is present despite the haphazardness of the scene.

I wrote this after weathering a tantrum. While I can’t remember the details, I do remember my son’s sweetest smile after I got him to calm down. That moment of calm after a whirlwind of chaos was so vivid and raw that I wanted to portray it in writing somehow. It made me think about my own parents and how, despite their exhaustion, home felt like home.

Anyway, I’ve spent the better part of my day reading the journal and love it. There’s amazing work by other writers and it’s aesthetically pleasing in my opinion.

Links:

(The link marked with ” ** ” is an Amazon affiliate link. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases at no extra cost to you.)

Check out my other publications, here.

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A Letter to Writers who are Parents: Writing and Parenting is Possible (my guest post on NaNoWriMo)

Between late night feedings, tantrums, and saying “don’t eat that!” for the umpteenth time, I wondered how authors balanced their careers with parenting. So I googled (“is writing and parenting possible?”) and regretted it.

Not only is this rarely talked about, it’s believed to be impossible in some circles 1 .

But it’s absolutely possible 2 !

Continue reading “A Letter to Writers who are Parents: Writing and Parenting is Possible (my guest post on NaNoWriMo)”
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My August Childhood

boy in green shorts holding green hose

The water hose hissed and, for a moment,
The faint scent of sunbaked rubber
Filled the humid air.

Water tickled small, laughing bodies
Running barefoot through lush grass
Peppered with dried needle leaves.

They take refuge behind a rundown car
With cracked windows that resembled
A spiderweb glistening in the sun.

Prompt: Poetics: Sometimes August isn’t recognized by Sanaa Rizvi (from A Dash of Sunny) on d’Verse ~ Poets Pub. Join in on the fun by posting your response to the prompt via Mr. Linky.

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A Peaceful Summer Afternoon

potted plant and chair on balcony 
A shaded balcony
Chlorine wafting from the pool like a Siren's song
Children's laughter
Scrape of colorful chalk, tattooing concrete
Flowers in bloom
Red petals dancing in summer's light
Cyclist meandering by
Wheels cracking and spokes creaking
Wind in grass
Dried morning trimmings blanketing the walkway
Peaceful observer

Written for d’Verse ~ Poet’s Pub poetry challenge: MTB/Poetry Form: The Eleventh Power & More.

Funny story: I accidentally locked myself on my balcony while I was drafting this.

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Leftovers

There was nothing like it. Their first kiss. The way they’d fallen in love. The loneliness that existed before and the salvation he brought. She could see a life with him: a house, a little dog, and maybe a child.

She dragged her knife against rigid metal, grating its edge to a sharp point. Well, she thought, turning to her victim subdued in the kitchen chair. His new girlfriend is welcomed to my leftovers.

Credit
Photo:Knife Kitchen Block by Congerdesign via Pixabay.
Continue reading “Leftovers”
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A Lucid Dream

I can feel her beside me when I close my eyes. If I focus hard enough, I can almost smell her shampoo each time our rotary fan turns its gaze her way.

I try my best not to disturb my lucid dream of her.

She doesn’t need to leave on that commute again…the one from two months ago when her car flipped and she—the real she—was taken from me.

If I stay silent, she’ll always be asleep beside me.

Credits
Photo: Sunlight inside bed by Becca Schultz via Unsplash.
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I Just Want a Happy Fucking Ending

I still tasted the last of the toothpaste. The minty feeling reminding me I’d have to replenish both bathrooms if there was anything left between bills and food. Hell, my family might have to go a week with rancid breath. That ought to be fun.

I shifted in my recliner. A torn, ragged thing I found at a thrift store that’s now even more fucked up since crossing my threshold. My kids—did I school them today? — have picked at the old fabric until stuffing jutted out like skin through ripped jeans.

I made a last futile attempt at comfortability, then settled in, ignoring the serrated leather cutting into my flabby thighs.

I fixed on my reading glasses and snapped open my magazine. For a moment I brood over not buying one of those tablet things that Renee has when I had the money, but soon think better of it. She could barely go two taps without Big Brother trying to sell her some shit she looked at two days ago.

But… I’d take the ads any day.

It’s better than this unexplainable dread that fills me as I leaf through the streaky magazine paper. Every page detailing how the world is falling apart. Hell, how it might even die before my own little shits come of age. I let the pages slip between my thumbs, fast forwarding through all the bullshit.

I just want a happy fucking ending.

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April Writing & Reading Events I’m Participating In…

I used to complain about not having enough time to complete personal goals or work on creative projects. Oddly enough, my new abundance of time isn’t motivation enough to do these things. Good thing there’s several writing and reading events happening this month. Events that I’m participating in! (And, who knows, maybe these events will keep you busy too?)

Magical Readathon 2020 (OWLs)

The OWLs is a Harry Potter themed reading challenge hosted and created by G from Book Roast. Participants complete courses (reading challenges) for a particular career to qualify for their NEWTs in August. If you complete both challenges, you get a cool diploma! Some careers you can “study” for are Alchemist, Astronomer, Mind Medic, Broom Maker, and others.

This is my first year taking part in the event, and I’m studying to be a Writer or Journalist (shocker, right?). I’m reading A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab for my “History of Magic: Witch Hunt” course. I’ll share my tbr in a later post!

Camp NaNoWriMo

Camp NaNo is a lax version of NaNoWriMo where you can choose whatever writing goal you wish to complete during the month. Mine is to work on Retaliate. It’s in the “drowning in a pit of despair” (aka editing) stage of the writing process and desperately needs some love.

National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo)

NaPoWriMo is like NaNoWriMo, but it’s poetry centered and ISN’T run by the nonprofit. Participants can write whatever poetry they like and the host provides prompts for those who often find themselves stuck (like me). I’ve completed one prompt so far, but the goal is to do as many as I can and share them here on the blog.

Perhaps taking on all three of these events at once is too much for some, but I want–no I need–to fill my April in creativity due to stagnation. Maybe you feel the same way and want to join me in one (or all) the above events? After all, its not too late.

Cover photo by Daria Shevtsova from Pexels