I’m Trying to Become Unstuck or Read Y: The Last Man Right Now

I’m going to pretend like it hasn’t been 8 months since the last time I wrote a post.

Here’s a picture of Geoff!

I had a huge post written ready to post a few weeks ago, but it was too negative, and I hated it. So, in short: this year has been really, really hard. I thought that moving somewhere new and totally awesome would make most of the cobwebs keeping me stuck, go away. But they didn’t, and instead I’m left with a head full of even more spiders. I know that so much of this uphill battle is just growing up and getting older. You’re going to have to deal with bills, and sickness, and people you love not being there anymore your whole life. But it’s not always so heavy, right? Or is that just wishful thinking? IDK DUDE. I guess what I’m trying to say is that Chicago is beautiful, I have the best job nannying 3 sweetie girls (4,3, and 10 months ahhh), but sometimes I get sad, and that’s okay.

In other news, I read at an open mic poetry reading back in July, and it was my first time reading without any of my fellow Chickz or really anyone I knew for that matter.

Thank You. Ok?

We have failed you, dear readers. I promised we would return to our regular postings, but we haven’t, and that makes me a gross liar. We have been busy bees this fall. School, new jobs, and puppies have filled our time. Sometimes, all I want to do is cuddle and play with this babybabe, Geoff, all day long:

Show me one person who doesn't think this is the cutest pup ever, and I'll show you a liar.

Shamrock Shake

Earlier this week, there was a discussion at Writer’s Community about what separates poetry from flash fiction. It got me thinking about what genre most of my writing falls into, and for most pieces, I really don’t know. What about you, readers? What do you think defines a piece as poetry rather than a flash and vice versa?

In light of the recent holiday, I wrote a flash that takes place on St. Patrick’s Day. I think I’m going to start writing a collection of flashes that are loosely based on holidays. I’ll let you know if that thought progresses. Anyway, here’s my story. HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND!

Tonight, I’m belly up to a bar, green beer in hand, yesterday’s ketchup stain on my jeans. Leftover Mardi Gras beads that I didn’t earn hang from my neck. I start thinking, If I pee in the river will it turn blue?, so I know it’s time to leave. But this city is too crowded to call anywhere home. People shoved in houses, work, love, so close that when one sparks, they all go up in flames.

Catch Me, RITA DOVE, I’m Swooning.

Has anyone perused the “Featured Presenters” list for AWP this past weekend?

LIKE WHOA. I’m seein’ the likes of Junòt Diaz, Natasha Trethaway, Rick Moody, Rita Dove, Sapphire, Amy Hempel, Bob Hicock, Kay Ryan, Joyce Carol Oates…to name just a few.

How is it that I just recently learned about this mystical amalgamation of all these classy people? I mean gosh, as a fledgling writer, one really needs someone to take them aside and whisper such glory into their ear. Naturally, this will prevent the type of obnoxious swooning I am now doing. At work. To the amusement of my ever present and alert co-workers.

Really really really. I’ve even heard rumors that an AWP attendee could encounter a writer they admire, say Rita Dove, at some little dive bar. Maybe even throw back a few beers with said demi-goddess.

YES PLEASE.

So, for those of you readers who maybe don’t know the wonders of AWP, I’m going to do what I do best: make a list.

AWP IS:

-A place where knowledge is spread through words, both spoken and written.

-A place where the scholarly congregate and maybe even get rowdy.

-The acronym for Associated Writing Programs.

-A yearly conference around either February or March.

-Taking place close to home next year (Chicago).

-The springboard to the “largest system of literary patronage the world has ever seen.”

-Also a book fair.

-Attractive to more than 8,000 attendees and over 500 publishers.

-The place where networking is no longer such a dirty word.

-Basically AWESOME.

(here: is a link to learn more).

AWP IS NOT:

-Free.

-The acronym for American Wimp Patrol, or Asinine Walleyed People (THANK GOD).

-A rull big party…at least not all the time.

-A place to waste time.

-A place to brown nose.

-Useless.

THIS IS A PICTURE OF A WIMP. Also, coincidently the average width of most male writers.

So. I am pretty sure the Chickz are gonna head on up to the windy city next year for AWP. We might even score a table and of course, we’ll ramble about it for all y’all that couldn’t make the trip.