Cat Russell's Blog, page 2
December 19, 2024
CURRENT EVENTS: New Year’s Resolutions Past and Present (2024-2025)
It’s time for my annual accountability post, along with my reflections on the past year.
MY 2024 RESOLUTIONS
I’ve been experimenting with both generic and specific resolutions for each new year. For 2024, I only committed myself to two goals, but I made them very specific.
*1. RECORD AND PUBLISH AN AUDIOBOOK OF MY WORK by year’s end.
Audiobook cover created by Christopher Russell SUCCESS!–Even if my audiobook doesn’t drop to Audible by the time this posts, I have completed my audiobook: my audio-version of my 2022 poetry collection, Kaleidoscope, passed quality control for Findaway Voices (audiobook platform)–which then distributed the finished audiobook to select retailers. The audio version of Kaleidoscope should pass each individual retailer’s quality control and be released by them sometime between December 8th and Christmas Day.
Wouldn’t that be the perfect holiday gift?!
Incidentally, since Audible requires an ebook version of every audiobook on its platform, I also self-published (with Venetian Spider Press’s kind understanding) a KINDLE version of Kaleidoscope–now available for $9.99!
Although I had planned to create an audiobook of my narrative poem, “Gawyne and the Green Knight, Part II” as a test before recording Kaleidoscope, this proved unnecessary. I was lucky enough to find someone with both experience and professional audio equipment willing to help me for a very reasonable rate. So I skipped recording the shorter work, although I might at a later date.
*2. COMPLETE AND PUBLISH A CHAPBOOK by year’s end.
SUCCESS!–I accomplished this goal in February, so it holds the record for my earliest and most successful resolution! My KINDLE e-chapbook, Braving Persephone’s Chill: Broken Haiku, is my first self-published book: a short collection of “broken” haiku written during the Ten Haiku in Ten Days FaceBook challenge earlier this year. Since the haiku are based on quirky photos and stories instead of traditional themes, I call them “broken” haiku.
For a little background, I joined a new (to me) writing group at the Massillon Public Library in January. Although I didn’t realize it right away, the group focused on self-published authors. Since I had recently completed the haiku challenge, along with some additional haiku, it was the perfect time to delve into self-publishing! The librarian running the group, Rachel DiScipio Ketler–who runs her own publishing company (Queen Anne’s Lace) in addition to her library duties, writing her own books in multiple genres, and acting–kindly walked me through the steps so I could learn. I am deeply grateful for her help and inspiration.
REFLECTIONS :
I won’t bore you with this year’s personal drama other than to say many things cropped up during the year to distract me from my goals. I’m thrilled that I was able to keep them both! Not only do I have two new publishing credits, I’ve also gained skills and resources to use for years to come.
*
MY 2025 RESOLUTIONS
[image error]Pexels.com" data-medium-file="https://catrussellwriter.wordpress.co..." data-large-file="https://catrussellwriter.wordpress.co..." src="https://catrussellwriter.wordpress.co..." alt="" class="wp-image-3129" style="width:528px;height:auto" />Photo by Mabel Amber on Pexels.com*1. FINISH WRITING MY PANDEMIC MEMOIR-WITH-VERSE.
Before life got in the way, I was about 30-40% through a first draft of my work-in-progress: a pandemic themed memoir tentatively titled “The Year the World Ended and What Came After (A Memoir-with-Verse).” I’ve never been drawn to memoirs, nor had a desire to write one of my own. I’m not a celebrity; I’m not a daredevil nor lived through extraordinary circumstances. I’m just an ordinary person, so why would anyone want to read about my life? But I realized, as I compiled poems from my blog that I had posted during the pandemic, almost everyone living now has lived through “interesting times”–namely the pandemic. As I wrote explanatory material for each poem in what I originally conceived as a chapbook, I realized I was documenting recent history: the pandemic and beyond. So I shifted focus to a larger work: my blog poems would be the skeleton supporting the body of prose.
Now that the majority of my time-sensitive projects are out of the way, I’m free to return to that work. I anticipate finishing by year’s end (2025).
*2. SELF-PUBLISH MY PANDEMIC MEMOIR-WITH-VERSE
Since I’ve self-published two books in 2024: my newest chapbook, Braving Persephone’s Chill: Broken Haiku and a KINDLE version of my 2022 hardcover, Kaleidoscope, I hope to use this experience to publish The Year the World Ended and What Came After by the end of 2025.
Also, although I’m not going to make them official resolutions, I’d like to self-publish one or two shorter works I’ve been brainstorming: a children’s book, and a nonfiction book on how to veganize tea-time. Whether or not I do this in 2025 largely depends on how early I accomplish my other goals. So I’m not holding my breath, but I’m putting them out there. I’ll get there eventually.
#
Thank you for visiting my blog, and I hope you’ll return in January! I’ll start 2025 with a post about the books I’ve read in 2024, so maybe you’ll find your next great read. I hope your holidays are happy! Have a great new year. Stay safe, stay well, and read often. See you next year!
* image courtesy of publicdomainpictures.net via Circe Denyer under Public Domain ( Creative Commons licensing )
**For more of my work, subscribe to my Patreon for as little as $1 per month! If you are uncertain, you can sign up for a 7-day free trial.
November 14, 2024
POEM: “Fire versus Flood”
“Fire versus Flood”
The red waves washes over
the trench we’ve dug ourselves
over the last four years
filled with these flames we’ve fueled
for so long
Will the flood quench our burning beds,
level the land, sow the ash with seed
to fertilize this soil on common ground,
build a brighter future–or simply drown us all?
Have we chosen death by flood
instead of fire? or will we rise
like a phoenix from these ashes?
* *If you’d like to read about my progress and plans this year, as well as craft tips, you can subscribe to my Patreon and support my work for just $1 a month. Until next time, stay safe and well, and read often!
October 19, 2024
POEM: “PACKING LIST”
MAKEUP, always first which shows you
my priorities--paired with things like
toothbrush and -paste and undies--
even the Wonder Woman ones bc hygiene
is important, speaking of...
SOAP, bar not liquid bc i’m flying.
SOCKS, i don’t know why it’s the first thing
i think of outside of toiletries.
SHIRTS and PANTS, enough to last the week.
EREADER with CHARGER and a physical BOOK
as backup, bc i cannot stand being without
something to read.
HEADPHONES, bc i’ll need a distraction from
the plane soaring skyward, defying gravity,
a distraction from the mounting pressure,
from my knuckles whitening as I grip
the armrest, trying to look unafraid
of more than simply falling.
INSURANCE CARD for the rental, although
i wish i could insure the entire journey
driving to my mother’s facility,
breathing deep to keep from screaming
as Florida traffic and heat bakes
my brain and i wonder, oh i wonder
why couldn’t she live closer?
why can’t i see her everyday
instead of enduring this ordeal
years apart and parting dollars,
bc let’s face it travel
and the sunshine state ain’t cheap.
CELL PHONE and CHARGER, my lifeline
in the place I grew up but no longer know,
my connection to home and hearth
and directions so I don’t get lost
as stranger in this now even stranger land.
PATIENCE, fresh from my Ohio home,
unpack it in my room, slip it
into my jeans’ pocket wherever i go
so she doesn’t see how goddamn scared
i am, how petrified.
two carcinomas this time--
two? and she just had some removed
months before, and a few before that,
and how much longer can this last?
i hate this trip and love my mother.
is that an oxymoron?
i want her near but here, not there.
i want to hold her hand, share tea
with her, help her with her laundry,
but instead
i get one week. One.
when will this end?
how can i stand it?
i already miss her
again.
*If you’d like to read about my progress and plans this year, as well as craft tips, you can subscribe to my Patreon and support my work for just $1 a month. Until next time, stay safe and well, and read often!
September 23, 2024
POEM: “beyond the blue”
“beyond the blue”
on my way to the grocery, I find myself drawn inexplicably to the pet store next door, the silent siren calls of all those animals for sale behind partitions of glass smudged from pressed noses–within and without. i had no reason to go, i told myself no desire to break my vow of never again, and yet i entered with visions of plastic-bagged bubble-eyed goldfish peering at the world outside, wondering what they’d see within their clear prison, how warped the world would seem, how distorted by the bend of wet bag, how magnified by the curving light.
drawn to the first tanks down the first aisle, i am witness to the existence of piscine prisoners within tanks of painted blue backdrops, sparsely planted and falsely cheerful plants that will never grow, that have never grown, and the harsh glare of artificial light. Could these tiny occupants see outside their small domain, or did they gawk at each glass wall, mocked by their own reflections? I suspect a bit of both, as tanks of shared walls host gangs of aquatic life: guppies gazing enraptured to the right, gangly goldfish staring back to the left at that same shared partition. Did they dream of freedom, each other, or nothing at all but the
shattering of their own
faces, blossoming open into
an ocean of
true blue…?
.
.
.
.
.
*inspired by a recent trip to a petstore.
August 17, 2024
POEM: “broken sonnet”
--for Doug
i curve into the s that is you. our
legs straighten together like highways a-
cross these sheets. our kisses lost within each
fresh crease. i run the curl of my hand up
your arm’s length, feel the bump that marks our time
like the hands of a clock ticking away
our shared minutes until the alarm cries
their end. lying intertwined on this worn
mattress, i cannot straighten my twisted
fist. instead i run its back across your
stubbled cheek. our tender feet, toes, and backs
crack as we move synchronistically to
the beat of our shared breath: wordless, we sense
its rhythm in each holy exhalation.
*
*If you’d like to read about my progress and plans this year, as well as craft tips, you can subscribe to my Patreon and support my work for just $1 a month! Until next time, stay safe and well, and read often!
July 18, 2024
POEM: “a garden in grief”
“a garden in grief”
perennial sea-lavender:
an ironic choice for a funeral
for someone who has ceased
to continue, their life
broken as the browning
brittle stalks of this
uprooted bloom, its blossoms
still bright and beautiful
shades of dark slate blue,
Mountain’s Majesty, and
Rebecca purple–denying
the death that creeps
slowly upward
the roots are already gone
the heads have yet to realize.
*inspired by photos of funeral flowers
June 25, 2024
POEM: “fireworks”
half a world away
the night sky lights up.
a thousand stars fall upward.
watch them burst, break
against the iron dome:
their beauty utterly dependent
upon their thwarted purpose.
sometimes the goal itself
is ugly.
sometimes failure
is the brightest blessing.
*Although I wrote this poem months ago, the fireworks theme seemed relevant with our upcoming Fourth of July holiday.
This poem posted on June 25th of 2024: 262 days since Hamas slaughtered civilians at a music festival and families in their homes. (Israel was not at war and had had no presence in Gaza since 2005.) Approximately 116 hostages are still held in Gaza by Hamas--including an infant and a four-year old, though not all are believed to be alive. Eight American hostages are still held by Hamas in Gaza--three confirmed dead; Hamas holds their corpses hostage.
**inspired by video footage via Michael Rappaport’s Instagram of Hamas rockets repelled by Israel’s Iron Dome. The Iron Dome defense system continues to intercept 90% of the thousands of rockets launched at Israel’s civilian population centers--including playgrounds, schools, and family homes.
May 16, 2024
POEM: “the worst thing”
AUDIO LINK: https://archive.org/details/2024-05-17-poemthe-worst-thing
“the worst thing”
it’s not the actual violence,
the worst thing…
it’s the silence
of those who professed they’d fight
for the rights of all, they’d always
speak up, speak out
for the downtrodden and oppressed.
You were vocal for years,
but now your tongue lies bleeding
like every heart should
for the tragedy unfolding before our eyes.
Where has your voice gone?
Where is your outrage? Your compassion
for those still suffering
a loss we cannot fathom?
We’ve seen this happen before,
know that less than a century ago,
in a land not unlike our own,
ruddy youth in brown shirts,
schooled in the rules of hate,
goosestepped over broken glass
and a new underclass
while the many stood by
in silent complicity.
But we got it wrong.
We are not doomed to repeat
the history we don’t know.
We are
if we ignore it.
It’s not complicated.
There is good, and there is evil.
If you witness in silence now,
you’re on the wrong side.
*Inspired by the appalling silence of previously vocal members of the poetry community who have said nothing about rising antisemitism, or worse–defended those who perpetrate it.
*If you’d like to read about my progress and plans this year, as well as craft tips, you can subscribe to my Patreon and support my work for just $1 a month. Until next time, stay safe and well, and read often.
April 18, 2024
POEM: “Auroras”
thwarts my backyard view despite
my northern address
Aurora over
the horizon, visible
just behind these clouds
*Generally haikus are untitled or referenced by the first line, but since I’m posting this online, I thought a title would make things simpler. I hope you enjoyed the poem!
*If you’d like to read about my progress and plans this year, as well as craft tips, you can subscribe to
my Patreon
and support my work for just $1 a month! Until next time, stay safe and well, and read often!
April 1, 2024
POEM: “The Newer April Fools”
Today also happens to be April Fool’s Day, and the anniversary of my father’s funeral (in 2016). He was a jokester his entire life and would have appreciated the timing. Now, every April Fool’s Day reminds me of him and how lucky I was to have him in my life.
In honor of my father, I’m posting an updated version of my April Fools poem. I love you, dad.
#
“The Newer April Fools”
I think that I shall never see
A fool who contemplates a tree
Unless it be to climb up high,
to drop balloons upon wiseguys
Who took their favorite holiday
that celebrates their foolish play
And gave it to the vaulted wise
with noses pointed toward the skies
Allowing fools to plant their whoopies
where wise men go plant their tushies
If wise men usurp this day,
the first of April, come what may
The fools around the world would swear
revenge upon them - so, beware!
For who wants sugar in salt shakers?
Wise men or the worst of bakers?
A nest of robins in their hair?
Their clothing shrunk? their flesh laid bare?
A plastic bug upon their bed?
Green dye, not shampoo, for their head?
The Bard of Avon wrote wise fools,
who saw that humor was a tool
used to deal with hell and strife,
anger, love, conflict, and life
Those who claim they’re wise should know
that we’re all fools--each girl and beaux
Socrates, a most wise fool,
knew he knew nothing: neither do you
Laughter may be the tonic best
a type of wisdom in each jest
But poems are made by fools like me,
who love to laugh--
yet think on God and trees!
*my silly take on Joyce Kilmer’s lovely poem, “ Trees ”
**Many thanks to John Etorre for his feedback on the original poem!
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