Time to pick up the thread of the last Birth of Pokey post—no, not those red pants again! The thread of how Pokey wriggled her way out of the little box she was in, not-so-affectionately known as writer’s block. If you’ve never had writer’s block, or its equivalent for your chosen work (bread that refuses to rise, … Continue reading pokey leaves purgatory
Tag: artist
Pokey’s first interview: Katryna Nields
In honor of President’s Day Pokey is inaugurating her first Mama to Mama interview, featuring musician Katryna Nields. Katryna and her husband Dave, also an amazing musician, moved to our little road in 2000. I remember meeting her at one of our neighborhood parties: she was this beautiful, willowy column of a woman wearing a … Continue reading Pokey’s first interview: Katryna Nields
pie, publishing & swagger
When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing... Turns out, of the four-and-twenty blackbirds, 20 were men and only 4 were women! I know I promised to post the next installment of PM's journey, but an interesting conversation is bubbling up around a piece published by VIDA, Women in the Literary Arts, and I just … Continue reading pie, publishing & swagger
the birth of pokey, part II
In which Pokey becomes a Master of Regret and encounters Temporary Blindness. My friend Maya describes how she recently came across a photograph of herself at a party when her daughter was an infant. “I was wearing red pants! Red pants! What was I thinking? Who does that?” This, dear reader, is the question of … Continue reading the birth of pokey, part II
bear, not tree
Of course I love them, they are my children. This is my daughter and this my son. And this is my life I give them to please them. It has never been used. Keep it safe. Pass it on. The Mother, Anne Stevenson I subscribe to a women’s poetry list serv, and this poem was … Continue reading bear, not tree
Colic the Muse
What is colic, exactly? Raise your hand if you think you know. Now, stand on one foot if you know someone who’s had a colicky baby. OK. With the hand not raised pick up something fragile and adored that weighs anywhere between 8-12 pounds. Got it? Oh, and it should emit a continuous, oddly-pitched screech … Continue reading Colic the Muse
the birth of pokey
Once Pokey got through the morning sickness part, she loved being pregnant. She was fascinated by the progress her body made, the way she looked and felt. It’s powerful making that life, walking around with your belly sticking out, no apologies. You ladies get what I mean. And I had a book coming out! A … Continue reading the birth of pokey
in threes
I just got word that three of my poems will be featured on the Poets for Living Waters site. (I encourage you to visit there, but don’t look for my poems, they aren’t up yet. I’ll let you know when.) The project was initiated by Amy King and Heidi Lynn Staples in response to the … Continue reading in threes
All the Difference
I had so much fun self-publishing my poem last week that I may have to do it again. I know; I’m so wild. Some of you readers also got excited about the “vanity” discussion, and the idea that traditional and self-directed publishing aren’t necessarily an either/or situation. This got me thinking about how that kind … Continue reading All the Difference
Vanity
I figured I’d mark Independence Day by taking a break from my Pokey Mama narrative to talk about what’s more immediately on my mind: “self-publishing,” a hot topic in high-flying literary circles like mine. The talk takes various forms, depending on whether you’re a writer, publisher, or simply an observer of things literary. Some are for … Continue reading Vanity
Amy Dryansky 