Juliet Cook's Blog, page 135
February 23, 2014
The first review of the new Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook - House on Fire by Susan Yount
Near the end of the book, in the poem “Ars Catastrophe” Yount writes, “Poem was not the sun but a light/ blue stock letter to anyone.” Yes, this is certainly not a book where the sun shines, but many readers will find comfort in Yount’s blunt honesty and bravery while looking darkness straight in the eye and not blinking.
from the first review of the new Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, House on Fire by Susan Yount (thank you very much to Lisa M. Cole for reading it and taking the time to write this review).
Read all of Lisa Cole's remarks here - http://moonglows-reviews.blogspot.com/2014/02/susan-younts-house-on-fire.html
Partake of/purchase the House On Fire chapbook here -https://www.etsy.com/listing/177826146/new-house-on-fire-by-susan-yount-2014?
from the first review of the new Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, House on Fire by Susan Yount (thank you very much to Lisa M. Cole for reading it and taking the time to write this review).
Read all of Lisa Cole's remarks here - http://moonglows-reviews.blogspot.com/2014/02/susan-younts-house-on-fire.html
Partake of/purchase the House On Fire chapbook here -https://www.etsy.com/listing/177826146/new-house-on-fire-by-susan-yount-2014?
February 19, 2014
Blood Pudding Press at AWP Seattle, February 27-March 1
Next week it will be Blood Pudding Press's first year at AWP (Seattle February 27-March 1)!
Meet Blood Pudding Press (and me, because it's my press)at Table T3.
Partake of and consider purchasing the NEW 2014 Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, 'HOUSE ON FIRE' by Susan Yount.
Partake of and consider purchasing 2013 poetry chapbooks by Lisa M. Cole, Lora Bloom, and Paula Cary.
Partake of and consider purchasing earlier Blood Pudding Press poetry chaps too.
Stop by for the author signing by Margaret Bashaar of her Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, 'LETTERS FROM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL on Thursday February 27 at Table T3 from 3:30-4:00 P.M.
And more more more.
***
If you are not attending AWP, all of the above noted chapbooks (and more) are also available via the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here - http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress
Meet Blood Pudding Press (and me, because it's my press)at Table T3.
Partake of and consider purchasing the NEW 2014 Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, 'HOUSE ON FIRE' by Susan Yount.
Partake of and consider purchasing 2013 poetry chapbooks by Lisa M. Cole, Lora Bloom, and Paula Cary.
Partake of and consider purchasing earlier Blood Pudding Press poetry chaps too.
Stop by for the author signing by Margaret Bashaar of her Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, 'LETTERS FROM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL on Thursday February 27 at Table T3 from 3:30-4:00 P.M.
And more more more.
***
If you are not attending AWP, all of the above noted chapbooks (and more) are also available via the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here - http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress
February 7, 2014
Middle-aged Dream
Part of last night’s dream:
Just as I am walking into a large public restroom, holding my small dog on a leash, a skinny, middle-aged woman is stepping out of one of the restroom’s stalls, nude, with her pubic hair removed.
‘Can anybody help me?’ she asks in an annoyed tone of voice, as though she already knows that nobody is going to. She was asking for help getting back on her wheelchair. Everyone just ignores her and she says in an even more annoyed sounding voice, ‘Fine, I’ll call someone’.
That’s when I respond (because I don’t want to be another one of the people who just ignores something they don’t want to deal with or are not sure how to deal with), ‘I could try to help you. The only reason I didn’t answer right away is because I have my dog and…’.
Meanwhile, everyone else is just washing their hands and ignoring the situation.
***
When my alarm clock woke me from the dream before I could try helping:
As usual when I wake from an unusual dream, I start wondering what it was ABOUT.
How does a woman step out of a restroom stall, standing by herself, but need help getting back on her wheelchair? I didn’t ask myself that in the dream – in the dream it was more like if she asked for help, she needed help – why question why? Of course, in real life, people (including me) question things a lot, sometimes to avoid diving in. In real life, I don’t automatically help someone, unless I feel like they really need it – but how do I know?
Why was the woman nude – and why, after I woke from the dream, did I start wondering if that woman was some representation of ME – a skinny, middle-aged woman who sometimes wishes people would pay more attention to me than they do – but why should they? Maybe I’m an unattractive middle-aged weirdo that’s hard to identify/identify with. Granted, my character in the dream was walking my little dog and wearing a short skirt that many women my age probably wouldn’t wear.
Granted, in real life, I’m pretty skinny and like being skinny and I don’t think I look old, but maybe I do. Maybe I look considerably older than I feel. Maybe I look more akin to the annoyed, middle-aged woman who stepped out of the toilet stall nude, but there was nothing attractive about her nudity; it was just odd and disconcerting. Her face looked old. Her body was skinny and looked like it was in good shape, but even though she didn’t look unhealthy, she somehow looked too skinny. And even though I remember seeing her shaved crotch, I don’t remember seeing any breasts. What’s that all about?
I’ve been having breast issues lately i.e. I wish I had some; not someone else’s, but I wish mine were a little more substantial instead of borderline nonexistent. Maybe borderline nonexistent is an overstatement. Or maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m akin to a middle-aged, annoyed, annoying, somewhat disturbing person that’s the opposite of appealing when I get naked (physically OR expressively) and most people would rather just ignore it.
Accept for the younger version of myself that will TRY to help the annoying, unattractive, uncomfortable, nude older version of myself onto her seemingly unnecessary wheelchair.
?
Just as I am walking into a large public restroom, holding my small dog on a leash, a skinny, middle-aged woman is stepping out of one of the restroom’s stalls, nude, with her pubic hair removed.
‘Can anybody help me?’ she asks in an annoyed tone of voice, as though she already knows that nobody is going to. She was asking for help getting back on her wheelchair. Everyone just ignores her and she says in an even more annoyed sounding voice, ‘Fine, I’ll call someone’.
That’s when I respond (because I don’t want to be another one of the people who just ignores something they don’t want to deal with or are not sure how to deal with), ‘I could try to help you. The only reason I didn’t answer right away is because I have my dog and…’.
Meanwhile, everyone else is just washing their hands and ignoring the situation.
***
When my alarm clock woke me from the dream before I could try helping:
As usual when I wake from an unusual dream, I start wondering what it was ABOUT.
How does a woman step out of a restroom stall, standing by herself, but need help getting back on her wheelchair? I didn’t ask myself that in the dream – in the dream it was more like if she asked for help, she needed help – why question why? Of course, in real life, people (including me) question things a lot, sometimes to avoid diving in. In real life, I don’t automatically help someone, unless I feel like they really need it – but how do I know?
Why was the woman nude – and why, after I woke from the dream, did I start wondering if that woman was some representation of ME – a skinny, middle-aged woman who sometimes wishes people would pay more attention to me than they do – but why should they? Maybe I’m an unattractive middle-aged weirdo that’s hard to identify/identify with. Granted, my character in the dream was walking my little dog and wearing a short skirt that many women my age probably wouldn’t wear.
Granted, in real life, I’m pretty skinny and like being skinny and I don’t think I look old, but maybe I do. Maybe I look considerably older than I feel. Maybe I look more akin to the annoyed, middle-aged woman who stepped out of the toilet stall nude, but there was nothing attractive about her nudity; it was just odd and disconcerting. Her face looked old. Her body was skinny and looked like it was in good shape, but even though she didn’t look unhealthy, she somehow looked too skinny. And even though I remember seeing her shaved crotch, I don’t remember seeing any breasts. What’s that all about?
I’ve been having breast issues lately i.e. I wish I had some; not someone else’s, but I wish mine were a little more substantial instead of borderline nonexistent. Maybe borderline nonexistent is an overstatement. Or maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m akin to a middle-aged, annoyed, annoying, somewhat disturbing person that’s the opposite of appealing when I get naked (physically OR expressively) and most people would rather just ignore it.
Accept for the younger version of myself that will TRY to help the annoying, unattractive, uncomfortable, nude older version of myself onto her seemingly unnecessary wheelchair.
?
February 5, 2014
New in the Mojave River Review
NEW in Mojave River!The inaugural issue of Mojave River Review is 200+ pages, including two poems by me - "Wax Fangs" and "How Extraordinary Sea Creatures Are Born".
Dive in here -
http://issuu.com/mojaverivermedia/docs/mrr-iss1vol1-draft20/1
Dive in here -
http://issuu.com/mojaverivermedia/docs/mrr-iss1vol1-draft20/1
February 2, 2014
New Thirteen Myna Birds offering one teaser piece from each of the three recent Blood Pudding Press contest winners AND offerings from the three finalists!
The newly updated Thirteen Myna Birds is here - an extra-special addition, offering a sneak peak poem from each of the three recent winners of the Blood Pudding Press chapbook contest (Susan Yount, Paul David Adkins, and Alessandra Bava) AND a variety of poems from each of the three finalists (Donavon Davidson, Kelly Andrews, and Jay Sizemore).
“when I buried the litter of Flemish Giants - fragments of skin stuffed - dusty corners made of shadows, webs, and a few bitten fingernails - two hostages, clerks the age of her kids - & a sliver of her bottom lip - gray dust worked into the crevices”
Dive in here - http://13myna.blogspot.com/
February 1, 2014
New Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook - House on Fire by Susan Yount
House on Fire by Susan Yount is the first contest winning Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook of 2014!
Cover Art by Lois Wills
Hand bound with artsy yarn, either fuzzy brown or multicolored.
Available with light tan or light mauve colored covers.
18 poems by Susan Yount, offering well-crafted crude, disturbing, upsetting, traumatic, perverted, squeamish, sad, tough, gross chicken clucking imbalance, sick eggs, farmerette abuse, real life horror.
Buy the book here - http://www.etsy.com/listing/177825996/new-house-on-fire-by-susan-yount-2014?ref=shop_home_active_1
"...I had to stand on a bucket
to reach the latches. It was so cold. The babies were
already the size of giant snowballs. Ricocheting off the walls,
the door, the box, the floor. With the doe, the hutch
was too small. Huddled together, they could keep warm.
The next morning. When I opened the door. Red snow..."
from the poem "Flemish Giants"
Cover Art by Lois Wills
Hand bound with artsy yarn, either fuzzy brown or multicolored.
Available with light tan or light mauve colored covers.
18 poems by Susan Yount, offering well-crafted crude, disturbing, upsetting, traumatic, perverted, squeamish, sad, tough, gross chicken clucking imbalance, sick eggs, farmerette abuse, real life horror.
Buy the book here - http://www.etsy.com/listing/177825996/new-house-on-fire-by-susan-yount-2014?ref=shop_home_active_1
"...I had to stand on a bucket
to reach the latches. It was so cold. The babies were
already the size of giant snowballs. Ricocheting off the walls,
the door, the box, the floor. With the doe, the hutch
was too small. Huddled together, they could keep warm.
The next morning. When I opened the door. Red snow..."
from the poem "Flemish Giants"
January 13, 2014
NEW Review of the Blood Pudding Press chapbook Sister, Blood and Bone by Paula Cary
The 2013 Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, "Sister, Blood and Bone" by Paula Cary has received an utterly awesome review by Eileen Tabios at the new Galatea Resurrects, here - http://galatearesurrection21.blogspot.com/2014/01/sister-blood-and-bone-by-paula-cary.html
Read the review and then consider buying a copy of the chapbook in the Blood Pudding Press shop here - https://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress?section_id=14819899&ref=shopsection_leftnav_1
***
"Oh I really really like Paula Cary’s chap, Sister, Blood and Bone! Its poems contain the paradox of garnets—stones for, say, jewelry but ever evoking blood. Jewels that should be pretty but end up with other significances besides decorativeness."
"I also love how some poems, while loving, are not sentimental. That’s a good enough combo, except that Cary ups the juice to actually end up in nothing less than rapture!"
"And I love how other poems make my bones wince (yes, bones, not merely flesh as the effect goes deep)—except that I’m wincing with delight. It’s that paradoxical effect—you know, you’re thinking: that’s a tad perverse and yet being highly amused."
"I am attracted to these poems for their beauty and charm, notwithstanding—or maybe, in addition to—their rather eerie facets."
Read the review and then consider buying a copy of the chapbook in the Blood Pudding Press shop here - https://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress?section_id=14819899&ref=shopsection_leftnav_1
***
"Oh I really really like Paula Cary’s chap, Sister, Blood and Bone! Its poems contain the paradox of garnets—stones for, say, jewelry but ever evoking blood. Jewels that should be pretty but end up with other significances besides decorativeness."
"I also love how some poems, while loving, are not sentimental. That’s a good enough combo, except that Cary ups the juice to actually end up in nothing less than rapture!"
"And I love how other poems make my bones wince (yes, bones, not merely flesh as the effect goes deep)—except that I’m wincing with delight. It’s that paradoxical effect—you know, you’re thinking: that’s a tad perverse and yet being highly amused."
"I am attracted to these poems for their beauty and charm, notwithstanding—or maybe, in addition to—their rather eerie facets."
January 11, 2014
Blood Pudding Press 2014 Poetry Chapbook Contest Results!
Four Semi-Finalists (in no particular order):
~wingless, scorched and beautiful/Allie Marini Batts
~Old Mother Witch Woman: Nursery Rhymes/Jessy Randall
~Interior Ransack/Martha Deborah Hall
~Love like Jack/Pattie Flint
*
Three Finalists (in no particular order):
~There’s No Place Like Hell/Jay Sizemore
~The Last Place on Earth/Donavon Davidson
~Red Moon/Kelly Andrews
*
The Three Winners (in the order I plan to publish them):
~House on Fire/Susan Yount
~Stick Up/Paul David Adkins
~They Talk About Death/Alessandra Bava
***
Big congratulations to all of you!
My tentative time frames for publishing the three winning chapbooks are as follows:
Susan Yount’s House on Fire in early February
Paul David Adkin’s Stick Up in late March or April
Alessandra Bava’s They Talk About Death in June, July, or August
I will be in touch with each of you closer to that time to discuss more details – so that means I will be in touch with Susan Yount fairly soon.
Best, Juliet Cook, Blood Pudding Press
***
To partake of previously published chapbooks by Blood Pudding Press, take a look at the Blood Pudding Press shop here - http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress
~wingless, scorched and beautiful/Allie Marini Batts
~Old Mother Witch Woman: Nursery Rhymes/Jessy Randall
~Interior Ransack/Martha Deborah Hall
~Love like Jack/Pattie Flint
*
Three Finalists (in no particular order):
~There’s No Place Like Hell/Jay Sizemore
~The Last Place on Earth/Donavon Davidson
~Red Moon/Kelly Andrews
*
The Three Winners (in the order I plan to publish them):
~House on Fire/Susan Yount
~Stick Up/Paul David Adkins
~They Talk About Death/Alessandra Bava
***
Big congratulations to all of you!
My tentative time frames for publishing the three winning chapbooks are as follows:
Susan Yount’s House on Fire in early February
Paul David Adkin’s Stick Up in late March or April
Alessandra Bava’s They Talk About Death in June, July, or August
I will be in touch with each of you closer to that time to discuss more details – so that means I will be in touch with Susan Yount fairly soon.
Best, Juliet Cook, Blood Pudding Press
***
To partake of previously published chapbooks by Blood Pudding Press, take a look at the Blood Pudding Press shop here - http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress
A NEW poem of mine is up in LUSTRE
"Now you’re just a hole filled with nothing except your own contorted head."
from a NEW poem by me, "Insecticide Dye Job" which now appears on the new LUSTRE, along with other new work by Cassandra Dallett and four men, here - http://lustremagazine.co/
"They poison you and then pull themselves out. You rip out more and more of your own debris and flush it partway down and then pull it back out of the clogged drain and try to decide what the hell to name it."
from a NEW poem by me, "Insecticide Dye Job" which now appears on the new LUSTRE, along with other new work by Cassandra Dallett and four men, here - http://lustremagazine.co/
"They poison you and then pull themselves out. You rip out more and more of your own debris and flush it partway down and then pull it back out of the clogged drain and try to decide what the hell to name it."
January 10, 2014
Thirteen Myna Birds is brimming with dying deer, dark birds, and other twisted creatures
Newly updated Thirteen Myna Birds flock, offering even more hideously awesome innards than usual - this time it includes a flock of SEVENTEEN!
"To give oneself up one must have a self - from the belly feathers - vocal chords, bleating - eating all in its path - patches of mud or pale disintegration - mangled bird in his hands - dread is a skull - pumping your chest - the blood boiling fever - Skin sloughs off - It smothers the airy colors - but I know how to rise - Gleaming spider webs of poison filled spit"
Seven poems by Jennifer MacBain-Stephens (from her chapbook "EveryHerDies", forthcoming from Emerge Literary Journal Publications) and poems by Kathleen Kirk, Jason Fisk, Annette Marie Hyder, Bekah Steimel, and John Grey!
http://13myna.blogspot.com/
"To give oneself up one must have a self - from the belly feathers - vocal chords, bleating - eating all in its path - patches of mud or pale disintegration - mangled bird in his hands - dread is a skull - pumping your chest - the blood boiling fever - Skin sloughs off - It smothers the airy colors - but I know how to rise - Gleaming spider webs of poison filled spit"
Seven poems by Jennifer MacBain-Stephens (from her chapbook "EveryHerDies", forthcoming from Emerge Literary Journal Publications) and poems by Kathleen Kirk, Jason Fisk, Annette Marie Hyder, Bekah Steimel, and John Grey!
http://13myna.blogspot.com/
