March is Women’s History Month. And Alaska playwright and poet Arlitia Jones is celebrating in a unique way. Jones, who has penned such productions as Tornado, Come to Me, Leopards and Rush at Everlasting, is running blog posts highlighting lesser-known-yet-highly-significant women for each day of the month. It’s a fascinating project about fascinating and memorable woman,… Read More Playwright Arlitia Jones and Women’s History Month
It’s been quite a week, no? I was sick with the flu, I practically died of heat-stroke during my last run (it was 82 here at my sister’s here in Philly yesterday) and I realized that the new poem I had been working on and thought was oh-so-wonderfully-perfect isn’t perfect at all. In fact, it… Read More New work up at damfino press
It’s late at night, the moon shining through the living room window. I should be asleep but I’m not. I’m lying with the cat, awake but sleepy. I’m enjoying the night, enjoying the silence, enjoying my own company. My partner is away for the night, down in Homer to check on the cabin while I… Read More A night alone (or, my crush on a Trixie Belden character)
I’ve mentioned it before: I receive a lot of rejections. The actual number, of course, varies upon the time of year, my confidence level and my writing output. I usually have three pieces out in circulation at any point, and with the average literary magazine accepting less than 1-5% of submissions–well, you do the math.… Read More Don’t let rejection freak you out (and goodbye, Phillip Levine)
Well, it happened: My adolescent crush died. Rod McKuen passed away last Thursday. According to a New York Times article, McKuen, 81, had been ill with pneumonia. McKuen’s numerous poetry books (29) sold millions, and he also penned popular songs. (Remember Seasons in the Sun? “We had joy/we had fun/we had seasons in the sun/….”) While McKuen… Read More Goodbye, Rod McKuen (or, what is “real” poetry)
I can’t finish my second novel, Waiting For My Daughter’s Ghost. I have it written and edited, up to the last chapter. I even have the last chapter outlined and more than enough segments in rough-draft to basically finish the book, but I can’t do it. For the longest time I wondered why: Why was I balking? Why didn’t I… Read More Why I can’t finish my novel
Cinthia Ritchie 