New Poem and Interview up at Orange Quarterly

This post is proof that just because you enter a writing contest and the results are not in your favor does not mean you have zero chance at getting published! Back in April, a fellow writer shared a contest opportunity with me. It was put on by a small press in Northern Michigan called Green House Press. I entered a batch of poems, put up my slippers, and waited the whole summer, eagerly checking my email for the contest results.

Finally, in September, I received notice that I had not won the prize. However, the press was very enthusiastic about one of my poems and asked if it was still available to be published in Orange Quarterly, the journal associated with Green House Press.

This is one reason why I love the writing world. Rejection and acceptance can so often waltz together in the same breath. We live for these tender interactions, I think. It’s all part of the balancing act.

It is such a sweet treat to have my poem, #28, included in the revival issue of Orange Quarterly, along so many prestigious authors, like Keith Taylor. My very first literary interview can be read online there, too. For so long, I have always been the interviewer (which don’t get me wrong, interviewing authors is one of my favorites things to do) but how exciting it is to be on the other end this time!

Thank you so much to Allison Peters and staff at Orange Quarterly/Green House Press. I hope you enjoy the read!


[time of death (plus orb)]

As a dreamer, a night-wonderer, a star watcher, and one who definitely has stayed up late many a night to dance with the moon,  I am supermoon overjoyed that my piece, “[time of death (plus orb)]”—about growing old, imaginary friends and how our bodies never really lose those friendships, even when our minds let go of concrete memories—is in the debut issue of Moonchild Magazine, which you can read online:

…Why can’t it rain sand outside? she asks the skull. She’s named him Roy because that just seemed like a good skull name. Her words wend through one of his sockets. He keeps her words captive-caught in his strong boned smile. But she likes to play hide and seek. She sees Roy’s reflection next to hers in a brass orb she calls the Sun. I wish I could stay with you always Roy. When the hourglass runs out, she turns it back over so the rain shower shall never end…

A huge thanks to Nadia Gerassimenko at Moonchild Magazine for publishing it and being wonderful to work with!

My inspiration came from this film by David Michalek.