All I have is a voice To undo the folded lie, The romantic lie in the brain Of the sensual man-in-the-street And the lie of Authority Whose buildings grope the sky: There is no such thing as the State And no one exists alone; …
I am thinking of my dear Aunt C a great deal today. I wrote two poems about the pomegranates that grow at her house, and I’m sharing them while I ruminate on the beauty, and darkness, that we find in October, that most brilliant of months.
What do John Keats and Led Zeppelin have in common? More than you think, if you’re me.
So, my last post really did make it sound like I wasn’t doing NaNoWriMo, mostly likely. And apparently that’s the thing that got me going. Or something. I’m not going to try and explain it in too much details, but it goes something like …
Life has been spinning by at a trajectory altogether too fast for me these days, but that’s what happens when you smoosh an actual career in between being an author, a blogger, a mom, a sister, a wife, and an editor. It’s really unfair …
I’ve been waiting to talk about this until it was official but, hey, look: official! And awesome. I had the privilege of coming up with a project together with Brigid Ashwood, a brilliant artist and fellow lover of speculative fiction. The piece in the …
I don’t know what I was expecting in regards to Bright Star, though I suppose I thought it might irk me a bit, as biopics tend to do–especially when concerning authors. Far too often it seems directors need to sensationalize the stories, add sex …
To keep my brain nimble and, um, creative, I’ve decided to start a Thursday poetry tradition here. I can’t promise the poetry will be awesome, or inspiring, or even good. But once upon a time I fancied myself a bit of a bard. So, …
