What’s Happening?

Hey kids, just a quick little catch up blog to let you know some things going down, and give you a heads up for some events. Also–A poem.

First, a huge thank you to Bookmarked Literary Festival in Lander, Wyoming. The organizers, sponsors, and community made it such a memorable and fun event. It’s a beautiful thing when readers and writers can come together and share their joy of literature and their support for all voices. I was so impressed by the participating writers and poets and the new voices and fresh perspectives I heard.

If you don’t have a festival like this in your town, talk to your librarians and local writers. Now, more than ever, we need people who love books and the people who believe in reading them instead of banning them. No one who ever banned a book, in the history of the world, was on the right side of things. And as writers and readers, it’s our duty to protect the free flow of ideas to be written and words to be read. Free will gives everyone a choice as to what they read, we have no right to take away the choice of someone else.

Um…what else? Oh! I have some books coming out!

Composing Laney It should be up for presale soon and book signing dates will be forthcoming. I also have a new saccharine holiday short called Rewriting Christmas with Kerrie Flanagan. If you like Hallmark and a bit of my snark, you’ll probably like it. I’ll be posting the cover reveal soon on that one. I have a new Vella out The Three Hearts of Eve which is a quick-reading adventure into the perils of genetics, assassins, and free will. It’s about to heat up, so don’t miss out. And remember the first three are free!

As always you can find my other novels, poetry anthologies and writings here on the site, at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and 5 Prince Publishing.

The LAST thing to announce is that my Youth Writing group will be participating in an Anthology due out in 2024. These talented kiddos are learning the ropes from writing to publishing and everything in between. If you know a youth who wants to be a writer (or is one), between the ages of 12-17+, send them the link here: WHWA Youth Writers. We’re still in need of entries for the anthology that will be published in May or late June. All writers will be paid for accepted submissions, and any proceeds from book sales will go directly back into the youths’ writing group for supplies, trips, and conference fees. It’s free to sign up with the youth program and there are no requirements except to enjoy the writing and be kind to one another.

Whew!

And now… Poetry

You Needn't

You needn't worry about me anymore
I'm quite moved on
without you

I've folded up my broken heart
and stuffed it in a drawer
with all my too tight sweaters
and kindergarten art work

things once mine
that do not fit any more

You needn't try to pretend we are friends
or play my sympathies
with your most recent tragedy

I've washed those away
with the news of your betrayal

down the drain they spiraled
to settle in the dark and moldy pipes
where such sympathies belong

You needn't worry for me anymore
I am an empty vessel
properly left to collect dust
on someone else' shelf

a picture of once beautiful,
chipped and worn
and waiting for something worthy
to fill me up again.

Poetry 9-21-23

Hey kids. Just a quick note to remind you that my next, unrelated Vella The Three Hearts of Eve is up and available (first three are free) at Amazon. It’s a fun little romp into espionage, genetic experimentation, forced proximity and questions of ethics. Still, oddly light hearted.

Also, I’ll be in Wyoming the weekend of September 29th through October 1st to celebrate their annual Bookmarked Literary Festival. If you’re in the area, come check it out, lots of awesome writers looking to connect with new and equally amazing readers.

And now, enjoy some Verse:

The Heart is A Terrible Driver

I am the owner of a body in the trunk
the forgotten musty trunk
in recesses of my memory
muffled and tied up
speechless to the ways my heart fell

Hearts do what they do
and mine
she is so big
so eloquent a speaker
so deviously soft and swaying...

she convinced me that 
she was the only one 
who could drive the beast of me 
through life, and it would all
work out

while my brain 
sat in the back seat,
shaking her head and looking at me 
in the rearview mirror
mouthing the words

You know better
Your gonna hate yourself for letting her drive

Brain was right
Heart took us off a fucking cliff
the first chance she got
giggling with the thrill
the free fall of Love
drunk on its chemical cocktail

all the way down
Brain stayed silent, 
arms crossed over her chest
as if to say

nothing I tell you will matter anyway
We were already over your head
the minute you gave her the keys

the carnage at the base of the canyon
was ruinous
the destruction, 
complete
Heart took the hardest hit
split down the middle in two ragged
pieces of desiccated meat
devoid of reason, or rhythm 

Head pulled her from the car, drug her through
the sharp pebbles and burning metal
shook with disappointment and 
carried her to a lesser used path
and I followed complacently
my own wounds stinging

Brain barely spoke, 
in all of those tender months-turned-years
up from rock bottom
winding on trails
of drunken malestorms 
and pious sobriety
We are a heavy load

Heart sometimes regains consciousness
and clings to the brush, on the side of the trail
striking out with bloody, broken hands
against the pull
trying always trying to get back
to the wreckage
to somehow make it all work out
make that car and joyous ride
run again

Brain cuffs her, hard
Sometimes it's just easier to knock her out
and keep her from making any decisions
then to try and reason 
with her stitched up pieces

from here on out,
my heart must remain bound and gagged,
the body in the trunk

we won't survive another crash like that