Stuff and bother
Let's start with the good stuff first, shall we? Since it's September already and it's almost publication time for these things, I figured I should tell you where you can next see some of my work in print (or, E-Books, & Book-Books & Journals - Oh My!):
1. My poem, "Troubled Water", was accepted for inclusion in the forthcoming anthology from Book View Café entitled BREAKING WAVES: An Esoteric Collection to Benefit the Gulf Oil Spill Relief Fund. The e-book anthology is edited by Tiffany Trent, who felt compelled to do something to assist in the efforts to remediate the damage caused in the Gulf of Mexico by the BP spill earlier this year. 100% of the anthology's proceeds will go to the Gulf Coast Oil Spill Fund of the Greater New Orleans Foundation. The collection will include a poem by Ursula K. LeGuin, a chapter from Rachel Carson's The Sea Around Us, and a variety of stories by authors including Vonda N. McIntyre, Judith Tarr, Deborah J. Ross, and Tiffany Trent. I've named the folks who have been publicly announced as being in the anthology; I expect they will announce the full table of contents even before the e-book is available for download. It is pretty spectacular, I must say, with works of science, fiction, and science fiction inside. More details as soon as ever they're available.
I'm terribly proud of this poem, which is written in a form of Anglo Saxon accentual verse that approaches sprung rhythm. Better yet, my wonderful editor-in-chief, Tiffany Trent, dubbed me "the lovechild of Gerard Manley Hopkins and the Beowulf poet" after reading it. That is so going on my resumé.
2. You may recall that my poem, "Margaret Rose", an original retelling of a combination of Appalachian folk songs, sold to Woodland Press for inclusion in the forthcoming anthology, Mountain Magic: Spellbinding Tales of Appalachia, edited by Brian H. Hatcher. Copies are available for pre-order already; the book comes out the first week in October. There's a really lovely dedicated website, complete with a book trailer, bio page (I sent my author photo in; it will appear shortly - honest), and some information about the book. (I am especially fond of the "Purchase" page, wherein my name appears on a list of "thirteen master storytellers". That is so going on my resumé.)
The poem is in a song form, and would (I am told) be lovely set to music. (Anyone? Bueller?) It is based on the songs "Fair Margaret and Sweet William" (which has at least three names and still more variations), with a bit of "Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair" and a slight hint of "Barbara Allen" (talk about a song with variants), only creepier than any of the versions I found. I am terribly excited to get my copy of the book!
3. As soon as the new edition of Chantarelle's Notebook goes up (the September issue, #21) you'll be able to read three of my poems there: a sonnet entitled "Lessons I Wish I Could Share With My Teenage Daughter" and two free verse poems, "Shelling Peas" and "Us". More on those poems when they're actually published.
Wally update
First, let me say that there is nothing sadder than watching a paraplegic dog dream of running. Wally doesn't usually have active dreams, really - that's more Katie's province - but twice today I watched as he dreamed of running, his front paws twitching, his back half lying stock still. *sniffle* This upset me so much more than dealing with the rest of his regime; it's just so, so sad somehow. *wipes eyes & blows nose loudly*
I had Wally duty all day today, and I am pretty much exhausted. I had to get up earlier than I'm used to doing, and the dog needs fairly close supervision. Not constant supervision, really, but it's important that he not be allowed to drag himself around too much, so I had to try to stay put (so he didn't get the urge to follow me around), where I could keep an eye on him and ensure he wasn't lying in a really horrifying position, that he had a doggie pee-pad under his hindquarters (doggie incontinence is kicking my ass, yo), and doing a bunch of physical therapy type things with him.
The one directive from the doctor is to get him into a standing position and get him to hold it as long as he can, which is a bitch, let me tell you, when you have a 40+ pound dog that can't do a damn thing with his back half. But we did it. I also did a bit of doggie massage, and doggie stretches, and doggie bicycle legs (kinda) to make sure he retained his muscle memory. And this one time, he actually flexed one foot for me. I sure hope it wasn't just a reflex, but I couldn't get it to repeat, so I'm staying hopeful.
Left to my own devices, I'd have sworn that the dog hasn't improved and might even have deteriorated further, but hubby seemed certain when he rolled in around 7 p.m. that Wally was better tonight than this morning, and since he left the house and I didn't, I will hope that I'm just blind to it and that he's correct - and not merely wishful.
1. My poem, "Troubled Water", was accepted for inclusion in the forthcoming anthology from Book View Café entitled BREAKING WAVES: An Esoteric Collection to Benefit the Gulf Oil Spill Relief Fund. The e-book anthology is edited by Tiffany Trent, who felt compelled to do something to assist in the efforts to remediate the damage caused in the Gulf of Mexico by the BP spill earlier this year. 100% of the anthology's proceeds will go to the Gulf Coast Oil Spill Fund of the Greater New Orleans Foundation. The collection will include a poem by Ursula K. LeGuin, a chapter from Rachel Carson's The Sea Around Us, and a variety of stories by authors including Vonda N. McIntyre, Judith Tarr, Deborah J. Ross, and Tiffany Trent. I've named the folks who have been publicly announced as being in the anthology; I expect they will announce the full table of contents even before the e-book is available for download. It is pretty spectacular, I must say, with works of science, fiction, and science fiction inside. More details as soon as ever they're available.
I'm terribly proud of this poem, which is written in a form of Anglo Saxon accentual verse that approaches sprung rhythm. Better yet, my wonderful editor-in-chief, Tiffany Trent, dubbed me "the lovechild of Gerard Manley Hopkins and the Beowulf poet" after reading it. That is so going on my resumé.
2. You may recall that my poem, "Margaret Rose", an original retelling of a combination of Appalachian folk songs, sold to Woodland Press for inclusion in the forthcoming anthology, Mountain Magic: Spellbinding Tales of Appalachia, edited by Brian H. Hatcher. Copies are available for pre-order already; the book comes out the first week in October. There's a really lovely dedicated website, complete with a book trailer, bio page (I sent my author photo in; it will appear shortly - honest), and some information about the book. (I am especially fond of the "Purchase" page, wherein my name appears on a list of "thirteen master storytellers". That is so going on my resumé.)
The poem is in a song form, and would (I am told) be lovely set to music. (Anyone? Bueller?) It is based on the songs "Fair Margaret and Sweet William" (which has at least three names and still more variations), with a bit of "Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair" and a slight hint of "Barbara Allen" (talk about a song with variants), only creepier than any of the versions I found. I am terribly excited to get my copy of the book!
3. As soon as the new edition of Chantarelle's Notebook goes up (the September issue, #21) you'll be able to read three of my poems there: a sonnet entitled "Lessons I Wish I Could Share With My Teenage Daughter" and two free verse poems, "Shelling Peas" and "Us". More on those poems when they're actually published.
Wally update
First, let me say that there is nothing sadder than watching a paraplegic dog dream of running. Wally doesn't usually have active dreams, really - that's more Katie's province - but twice today I watched as he dreamed of running, his front paws twitching, his back half lying stock still. *sniffle* This upset me so much more than dealing with the rest of his regime; it's just so, so sad somehow. *wipes eyes & blows nose loudly*
I had Wally duty all day today, and I am pretty much exhausted. I had to get up earlier than I'm used to doing, and the dog needs fairly close supervision. Not constant supervision, really, but it's important that he not be allowed to drag himself around too much, so I had to try to stay put (so he didn't get the urge to follow me around), where I could keep an eye on him and ensure he wasn't lying in a really horrifying position, that he had a doggie pee-pad under his hindquarters (doggie incontinence is kicking my ass, yo), and doing a bunch of physical therapy type things with him.
The one directive from the doctor is to get him into a standing position and get him to hold it as long as he can, which is a bitch, let me tell you, when you have a 40+ pound dog that can't do a damn thing with his back half. But we did it. I also did a bit of doggie massage, and doggie stretches, and doggie bicycle legs (kinda) to make sure he retained his muscle memory. And this one time, he actually flexed one foot for me. I sure hope it wasn't just a reflex, but I couldn't get it to repeat, so I'm staying hopeful.
Left to my own devices, I'd have sworn that the dog hasn't improved and might even have deteriorated further, but hubby seemed certain when he rolled in around 7 p.m. that Wally was better tonight than this morning, and since he left the house and I didn't, I will hope that I'm just blind to it and that he's correct - and not merely wishful.