Kern Carter's Blog, page 59
February 9, 2022
Success As A Writer
©2022 Juliet AltmannS — spiritual alignment with my words and actions
U — understanding my own rhythm and pace as a human and creator
C — challenging myself to try new things, changing things up
C — collaboration with other creators, embracing the support of community
E — experimenting, allowing my writing to evolve and take varied forms
S — sitting in stillness regularly, because rest yields inspiration
S — staying true to myself, because in every endeavor that’s #1
©2022 Juliet Altmann
[image error]Success As A Writer was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
February 8, 2022
What Those Around Me Cannot See
When even those closest to me do not understand what I’m going through
February 7, 2022
Call For Submissions — Toxic Positivity
When you put the word toxic in front of any word, it severely alters its meaning. Masculinity is a beautiful part of human nature, but slap the word toxic in front of it and visions of abuse and patriarchy immediately come to mind.
But what about positivity? Surely it’s not possible to be toxic and positive, right? Wrong, at least in my opinion. Toxic positivity is just as dangerous as any other word that toxic precludes.
I’m leaving myself out of this one, though. We want to hear your stories of toxic positivity. What does it mean to you? Have you experienced it? Do you think it’s harmful or is it necessary in this world filled with negativity?
Same rules still apply:You can submit to this or ANY of our past writing prompts. Just scroll through our previous newsletters. They’ll be marked “Call for Submissions.”If you’re already a writer for CRY, go ahead and submit.Be as creative as you want in your submissions. As long as you stick to the topic, we’ll consider it.Just because you submit doesn’t mean we’ll post. If you haven’t heard back from us in three days, consider that a pass.[image error]Call For Submissions — Toxic Positivity was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
February 5, 2022
This thought shall not enter!
Photo by Valeria Strogoteanu on Unsplashstop!
this thought shall not enter,
for I will defend the fortress
where she rests, peacefully:
listen,
the droplets on the windowpanes
are all she will bear to hear—
no!
no time for crying today—
i will say,
again:
none shall enter
and disrupt the imagination
of she who lives between reality
and a dream.
©2022 A.X. Bates
[image error]This thought shall not enter! was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
a tale of two cities
Photo by Afif Kusuma on UnsplashThe other day my colleague’s wife died.
It was sudden.
It was tragic.
I felt it.
What was interesting to me was the conversation that followed.
Three guys.
guy #1 pointed out that it must be hard to wake up with someone every day and then one day for them to just be gone.
guy #2 balked at the notion and said that within a week he would be over it.
guy #3 said, “You know what they say: the quickest way to get over one woman is to get under another.”
True story.
The conversation devolved quickly into hypotheticals about how guy #1 would actually handle a similar situation versus how he claimed he would.
I didn’t say a word, just listened and smiled, as I often do.
Many of you can probably guess the relationship status of each guy by their given response. Let’s see if you are right:
guy #1 is happily married going on some 20 plus years. His emphasis seemed to be on the habitual nature of the relationship, that it defined such a major portion of his life. It would not be an easy thing to lose. He is quoted as saying, “Do you know what it is to have someone call you every day for 27 years and ask you, ‘Honey, what do you want for dinner?’”
guy #2 is a career bachelor who seemed to think attachment to that level was just a burden. He quite succinctly stated that something like what guy #1 was describing was something he didn’t want, citing instead that on any given morning he gets his own inquiries about what he wants for breakfast.
guy #3 is happily divorced and though he came out the gate strong about getting under another woman, he was mostly quiet throughout the exchange. It was difficult to tell if it was nostalgia or boredom that kept him quiet, though.
My thoughts struggled to follow the train of the discussion. I am at heart a romantic, so my position mostly mirrored guy #1 but I felt the perspective of each guy as they shared them.
I marveled at the fact that while a colleague and, for some, a friend, was experiencing probably one of the most difficult times of his life, these guys were arguing about the frivolity of the relationship on no other grounds but their own perspective.
A former instructor likes to use the phrase, ‘it was a tale of two cities’ before telling one of his many stories used for examples. This phrase kept coming to mind when I pondered this exchange.
When I first heard the news, my thoughts kept drifting to the last conversation I had with this colleague. We were talking about marriage, ironically enough. He told me the story of how and why he divorced his first wife; and, while I knew he was divorced, I didn’t know the details. He then proceeded to tell me about his new marriage, which surprised me because I didn’t know he had remarried. It was one of those weird, too personal conversations you never intended to have, but end up having and are better for it.
He had experienced some bad breaks in life, the first marriage being one of them; but he seemed to love his new wife. After the story, he decided to give me some unsolicited advice, as older folk tend to do. His advice to me was a mixed pot of age-old wisdom based in experience and fresh sentimentality. His story and advice made my morning; and I was happy for him, and myself, after the exchange. That’s actually why it hit me so hard.
My heart still aches a bit when I think about this colleague and what he must be going through, but truthfully, I can’t say he isn’t experiencing any one of the above guy perspectives just based on my limited interaction with him. To assume his devastation is to make the same mistake the guys make in judging his situation from their perspective.
The varied perspectives make me confront the harsh reality that I don’t truly know how I would react if faced with a similar situation. I’d like to think that I would be devastated, but my imagination isn’t powerful enough to evoke a genuine response from me.
Additionally, the complexity of life makes it so that, if I am honest, there is a nugget of truth for me in each perspective.
© Ryan J. Pearce 2022
[image error]a tale of two cities was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
The one thing you need to know about the publishing industry
Image by Michael FallonIf you’re a writer thinking about getting your book published, publishing it yourself, or have already published a book, then this is for you.
There are a lot of things I can tell you about the publishing industry. I can tell you that it’s financially healthy. Sales in 2021 rose 9% compared to the previous year, which is significant, especially when considering how many people were reading in 2020.
However, there is something more complicated occurring—a supply chain issue and a paper shortage. Paper mills are closing or transforming into shipping centres, making it more difficult for publishers to get the paper they need. Because of this difficulty, some publishers have rethought how and when they release titles, and it will continue to be an issue for the foreseeable future. In my opinion, we haven’t hit the pinnacle of how this will affect authors more directly.
While all this is important, there’s more to know if you’re an author or aspiring author.
Here’s the one thing you need to know about the publishing industryThe most important thing is that print books still dominate the industry.
That seems basic, right? But think about this for a moment. We’re in the digital era. If you look at the music industry, CDs and vinyl have become vintage items, and streaming defines the current industry. In journalism and media, the most prominent global publications have long switched to digital-only or primarily digital. Consumers get their news from Twitter before they turn to a news channel. And let’s not even talk about watching TV. There’s a reason YouTube stars are a thing.
Amid all this, physical books have not only survived, but also thrived. Let’s look at some U.S. stats (because those stats typically represent the industry). 191 million ebooks were sold in 2020. That’s more than a 20% increase from the previous year, and the largest increase in a decade when ebooks were still fresh to the market.
Those numbers sound impressive, but not when you compare them to print sales. With over 750 million print books sold in 2020, that’s about 4x more print books sold than ebooks. In 2021, over 800 million print books were sold (subscription needed), which is the first time the number has risen over 800 million since NDP BookScan started tracking in 2004. The 9% year-over-year gain is also the highest jump in print sales ever tracked by BookScan.
Why does this matter?Print is still the dominant form of consumption. It means publishers still hold the key. Unlike music, where distribution has become democratized because of streaming, the presence of a printed book in physical stores matters. And, publishers have built relationships with brick and mortar booksellers/bookstores that aren’t replicable for authors who self-publish. Even independent publishers struggle to compare to the massive network that large publishers can provide. Having the budget to get the proper placement for books makes a difference in how that book sells.Consider your strategy: if you’re self-publishing, you may think that publishing only an ebook is the best way to go, but the numbers say different. So, figure out ways to implement print into your marketing and get creative with placement. We’ll discuss this in more detail in a future post.Writers, you might want to consider these points in your decision to self-publish or go the traditional route. Think about your goals. Be honest about your capabilities and how much time you can dedicate to marketing before making the best decision for yourself.
Also, don’t be discouraged by these numbers or the reality that print books are so prevalent. It’s a good thing. A great thing, actually. Readers are telling you that holding a physical book is still a far superior experience to any other format. And while ebooks are convenient for on-the-go reading, there’s nothing that can replace the feeling of turning those pages.
From a capitalistic perspective, you can earn more money per unit sale. From a more intrinsic point of view, it’s good to know that books still hold so much value in our society.
[image error]The one thing you need to know about the publishing industry was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
February 4, 2022
The Sounds of Fire.
A Blazing Frankfurt Sunset taken by the authorThe Sounds of Fire.
She roams with an empty stomach through an alley drowning in flames, fueled by words she can’t understand. The flickering heads of other passengers torch the aisles without burning anything, inextinguishable.
Blood is dripping from her lip, glimmering crimson between her loose teeth. Her cheeks are stiff and swollen. Blue and green patterns dance amicably beneath a thin layer of her skin. The sight of her would be daunting, but she doesn’t need to hide her face. No one can see it but her.
Twenty-something years of this should have left her dry, should have made deserted tunnels of her veins and arteries. Instead, the blood pools at her feet and follows her, moving where she moves, and not a single step further. She and her velvet maroon shadow find their place in the flames, and, almost without intention, are thrust and captured, wedged lazily between 28A and 28C.
By a force unknown to her (candid perseverance or comfort, perhaps), she takes the seat belt from her left side and stretches it across the vastness of her flesh. Her pelvis is a war-torn mountain, an empty valley, a sea of rising tides, and then, nothing. She buckles the traveling metal onto the right side of the seat.
The flames around her crackle and sputter, dancing in conversation across her body. They don’t touch her. It is not clear whether they noticed she had come between them, at all. Debris is passed over her lap. In rapid succession: a water bottle, a Patagonia jacket, a clear zip-lock bag containing a half-eaten apple. After a moment, when she is sure they are done, she leans forward, giving way to her own weight, and rests her head somewhere in the dense air. She takes a breath, not because she is safe, nor because she is tired, but because she has postponed it quite enough.
Her bones reflect the red and orange from behind her ripped skin. Her ribs are exposed, glistening while she heaves. And not unpredictably, Dr. Carlisle’s advice rings faintly, stupidly, in her ears. Inhale, Exhale doesn’t do the trick in smoke this thick.
Some time ago, she might have been overcome by a senseless shaking in her fingers, a violent trembling in her chest. Today, there is only the rhythm of ceaseless dripping from her mouth onto the worn, tray table.
The flames roar loudly. Their volume is meaningless to her. Before, when they were people, she could speak their language, with some effort. In this form, they are unintelligible.
It doesn’t take long for the opaque smoke of unfamiliarity to reach her lungs. She opens her mouth for a moment to let this thing in her throat escape. It claws at the insides of her neck, without actually moving anywhere. Her mouth is still open, bright red, and raised upwards. She looks as though she is saying something. Her chin is moving. The blood is lacing in the small dark gap between her lips.
She closes her eyes, the tears evaporating from her face before they can journey across her cheeks. She is not praying. She is begging. Begging for a moment of comprehension. The sound of a human voice, the sight of human skin.
And right on queue, taunting her with their timeliness, the words come from a rasping voice above.
“We’d like to remind passengers that snacks and drinks are available for purchase in the aircraft.”
Beggars can’t be choosers.
[image error]The Sounds of Fire. was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
February 3, 2022
Swallowed My Head, So I Think With My Heart
©2022 Juliet AltmannMy heart lives in my head
and my head lives in my stomach
I swallowed it because I think brainpower
is often over-summoned
I’m a cartographer mapping out the maze
that is my monkey mind
Even when the path is clear
I get turned around, intertwined
It sometimes feels impossible
to free myself from pain with logic
That’s why I keep my heart in my head
my head in my stomach
and some poems in my pocket
©2022 Juliet Altmann
[image error]Swallowed My Head, So I Think With My Heart was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
