I found out I’ll be included in the Haiku in Action Anthology published by the Nick Virgilio Writers House. From the publisher:
This collection of contemporary poems from around the world includes hundreds of haiku in its various forms, from the traditional style to senryu, monoku, and more. The anthology is perfect for lovers of haiku who want to read poems focusing on the events of 2020 from an international and diverse range of both established and emerging poets. More than just a collection of poems, this book also features haiku categories, writing prompts, essays from the NVHA staff, and an extensive lesson on haiku writing from renowned teacher, Tom Painting. Pre-order now so that you can be one of the first to receive this important anthology!
I found out that a short creative non-fiction piece of mine will be include in the new Main anthology by Hippocampus.
Main: An Anthology, part of The Way Things Were Series from Books by Hippocampus, celebrates small town America. The collection features stories about family-owned businesses, such as the stores and specialty shops that used to rule Main Street America. Our contributors share how these businesses define themselves and their family members, how the efforts evolved over time, through the generations.
I am so grateful and thankful for each of these developments and for everyone at NVWH/NVHA, Hippocampus and The Shore for making things like this happen and everyone who has read these pieces and supported these and other small presses.
Been meaning to share. This is a personal favorite, and I’m proud to have it at Bandit Fiction.
In the summer, when school was over, we picked mulberries in the yard and spun in circles on the grass. It was soft and living, warm on our bare feet, and every day the sun was lightening your hair. Your mom, she was playing Brian Wilson, and we listened to his brothers intervene.
In the summer, when we were older, we smoked kreteks in the street and the road between your mom’s house and the lake was painted by the moon. It was grey and broken, a hubcap glinted in the switchgrass cracking through the shoulder. Our friends, almost at the water, crashed and laughed against the tyranny of neighbors.
In the fall, when you had gone, I struggled doing pull-ups in the doorjamb, and the attic smelled like pine and lemon. I was thinking of all you’d written on the blue path of my forearm on the gray road to the lake the pale night you first squared the pattern of my breathing and began the long division of your forehead and my shoulder.
I discovered And Other Poems today via Twitter. It’s a very well done project.
And Other Poems opened to new submissions in November in a sort of relaunch. I don’t know exactly when their window closed, but we’re only halfway through December, so it couldn’t have been too very long ago.
They share that over 200 poets submitted over 700 poems in whatever the relatively short time frame was. Some new journals get less, some get more. Long-established venues get many, many more. Still, any way you look at it, 700 is a lot of poems. Reading them and giving them the right attention is a lot of work. No doubt a passion project.
Across the literary world, thousands of editors this past year have collectively read, what, probably millions of pieces? Mostly as volunteers. Mostly because they believe in the power and beauty and necessity of words. They believe their work and the work of the writers they publish matters and makes a difference. Thank you, editors, publishers, laborers of love. You make all of this happen.