napowrimo conclusion.

so it’s may now!

which means it’s no longer april, which means i’m no longer writing a poem per day, which has been bittersweet.

april did encourage me to write more, and to share more, and i hope that continues in the months to follow. in the meantime i just wanted to say thank you to everyone who followed, liked, and commented along throughout my napowrimo adventure.

sometimes i was a bit drunk when writing, sometimes i was serious, and once i forgot to post before midnight, but i legit managed to write a new one every day. and it felt pretty great to share them without worrying about editing & obsessing first.

i had fun doing it & the encouragement was super helpful, so really, thank you! i hope you keep following & enjoy future posts.

blog tour: my writing process

i’ve been nominated by my good friend justin million to take part in this blog tour series about my writing process. i was nominated along with two talented ottawa poets, marilyn irwin & jeff blackman, whose blogs you should definitely go read right now (not just for their writing tour posts, and not just because they’re my friends!).

1. What am I working on?

currently i’m forcing myself through napowrimo, so i’ve been writing and posting a poem once a day on this blog, every day, for the month of april. i wouldn’t say they’re great poems (or even good ones) (yet), but i really needed something to encourage me to start writing again. even if it’s just a line or two i can turn into something else later.

2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?

not really sure how to answer this question. like marilyn said, which genre? i think my poetry differs from other poetry because it’s my poetry and not someone else’s, and that’s pretty much it.

3. Why do I write what I do?

when i was a lot younger i wrote just to get thoughts on paper. in high school the only real poems i wrote were for english assignments. i didn’t take poetry writing seriously until i was around 20.

now it’s about remembering. and documenting. i have a terrible memory (like, really, i mean i can’t remember even simple things i have been taught over and over again), but i want to remember everything. that’s not to say that all of my poems are written about a personal experience, because most of them aren’t actually “about” my own life at all. but i always include something, even just a single line or word, that connects me to a particular moment. a smell, a sight, the way a man’s neck looked sunburned above his T-shirt in 2010.

i have this need to connect these insignificant moments to something else, something more important, to remember why they were so meaningful to me at the time. i would feel guilty forgetting and i would feel guilty obsessing, so i turn them into something else entirely and i know i won’t forget them.

4. How does your writing process work?

slowly, mostly, line by line. i like a line, i add to it later, i take something away, i re-write the added lines, i remove the original line altogether, i throw in words that don’t fit, i make them fit, i take my time. i’m still going back and changing poems i wrote five years ago.

i never commit myself to anything. i’ve taken lines from old poems and put them into short fiction. i’ve broken longer pieces of prose into multiple short poems. and i read, read, re-read, edit, change, edit. then i force myself to stop and it goes on the blog.

but that process can take years. it’s rare that i’m comfortable with a poem within the first six months of its existence, although that happens too.

that process has been abandoned for napowrimo, obviously. i write a line and then i write another line. i go back and re-write, but too quickly; i throw in words that don’t fit and then neglect to make them fit. it’s still just a process.

-

thanks for reading my blog tour.! i was supposed to nominate some people to continue the blog tour next week, and i tried, really. but the people i asked had either already been asked, or they didn’t want to share their blogs, or i didn’t ask for a bio in time and i have no idea if they are actually planning to participate at all (chris…).

instead, maybe you can visit both marilyn’s and jeff’s blogs and see whose blogs they have nominated for the tour.

also, please visit rachael simpson’s blog. she originally nominated me for this blog tour and i don’t think i even responded to her because i was so busy and it seemed so complicated. it wasn’t until justin suggested it that i took the time to figure it out.

sorry rachael.

goldfishing.

sometimes it’s difficult for me to spend long, quiet saturdays & sundays lounging around my perfect home, watching my perfect pets swim around their perfect aquarium digging for food in the rocks.

20140323-122622.jpg

i’ve had this life before, and have always given it up for a noodle-dinner/naked-mattress life, the life i’ve always clung to (with stubborn nostalgia and the ignorant insistence that i am a certain way). i’m not a certain way.

and if i am, i hope i end up inside some sort of balance between a calm, peaceful, loving home and the frantic but inviting solitude i still sometimes take comfort in.

20140323-122544.jpg

literary deathmatch.

i have this really cool friend named craig calhoun, and his short story is up against another in a writing competition.

it’s been an exhausting few weeks of voting for craig (you can vote once an hour), creating memes, and generally promoting him and his story online. he’s made it through two previous rounds to get to the finals and i’d hate to see him lose now.

i’m doubtful that anyone really reads my blog, but to the void i ask:

the contest ends TONITE at 11:59pm. we already lost a precious hour of voting today, so if you don’t mind, it would really help craig out if you could visit the site, vote for him, then vote until midnight or share with your friends if you like.

thanks in advance, void!

home (office).

20140216-224356.jpgorganizing my office can be
the best part of the day.
i hide bits of glamour
behind the sheets of
coloured cardstock
& the decoupage.

i find where i can fit you in
and let yourself expose
you. i breathe and i
pretend i don’t
need cigarettes.

i breathe and i
pretend i’m not
nostalgic for the year before.

home (alone).

since my boyfriend started this thing where he flies across the country for a week at a time for work, i’ve started this thing where i’m scared of my own shadow. not sure why. of course i’ve lived on my own before, and that was in a sketchy area in an apartment with big windows on the ground floor.

now the furnace comes on in the still quiet of the evening and i jump in my own skin. i try to focus on netflix or the courses i’m taking for work or books or pepsi or the sound of my own feet on the squeaky, century-old floors. i try to not see silhouettes of strangers in my backyard through the reflections of light in the double panes of glass.

i thought i’d be lonely or bored; i’m not. the last thing i thought was that i’d become scared to be raped or murdered in the place i love most, my own home.

2014!!!

2014!!!

i admit i’ve neglected this writing blog for most of 2013. i spent the majority of the year working on my most recent chapbook, the grass is a yard now, again.

but now that the book is done i’m looking forward to posting more poems/writing here in 2014, mostly stuff i don’t plan on publishing.

i think i also have two poems that will appear in the next (10th) issue of ottawater, ottawa’s online poetry anthology. there will be a reading at the carleton tavern on january 24th at 7pm. at which i will not be reading.

i’ll post again when the new issue is online, or whatever.

thank you for reading/following despite my inactivity… & happy new year.!

new house.

we rented a house by the canal for august first. only a block away. this is going to be very good for any and all new writing. i have a lot of plans.

including a plan to buy myself a congratulatory new writing book to celebrate finding the house (which, by the way, is absolutely perfect).

also, sometime in the next few months i expect to publish a new chapbook, currently untitled. i’ll have updates about that as well, which i’ll probably post while i sit on some awesome canal-side bench less than five minutes from my new home.

parley.

we said “at least
it’s over”, talking about the move,
or the ten centimeter
snowfall in my new city

or the edge of the end
of a week, a quick fuck in
the back of a truck
between friends, a dream
you’ve been having since you
were eighteen and we met,

or talking about your
new now-ex girlfriend, or the
tension between you
or us
or you thanks to us

that we are sure isn’t there

or splitting the cost
of our drinks