Juliet Cook's Blog, page 88
March 5, 2018
Happy March! New poems in the Ohio Poets Issue of Glass: A Journal of Poetry AND new poems in the March Issue of Rogue Agent
I am delighted to start off the month of March with two of my poems appearing in two different wonderful literary magazines!
***
"Out of my blood drenched trench where I'm not good enough at choosing between periods or question marks. I keep on trying to re-position myself into something new. "
inside my poem, "Not Settling Down" in Glass
read more here - http://www.glass-poetry.com/journal/2018/march/cook-not.html
***
"White refrigerator filled with white needles. White bedding. White cage."
inside my poem, "White Is My Least Favorite Color" in Rogue Agent
read more here - http://www.rogueagentjournal.com/jcook
***
"Out of my blood drenched trench where I'm not good enough at choosing between periods or question marks. I keep on trying to re-position myself into something new. "
inside my poem, "Not Settling Down" in Glass
read more here - http://www.glass-poetry.com/journal/2018/march/cook-not.html
***
"White refrigerator filled with white needles. White bedding. White cage."
inside my poem, "White Is My Least Favorite Color" in Rogue Agent
read more here - http://www.rogueagentjournal.com/jcook
February 23, 2018
The New February flock of Thirteen Myna Birds!
The new February flock of Thirteen Myna Birds is HERE! - https://13myna.blogspot.com/Featuring three pieces of art AND two poems by Mish/Eileen Murphy! Three prose poems by Howie Good! Two poems by Kelly Gangeness! Three poems by Charles Cicirella!
"Birds that hadn’t learned to fly yet were about to be hauled away in trucks - I woke up screaming like a Barbie with no head and whose Dreamhouse is under water - soaked through and through with debris and fish feces - a shortage of coffins - The Pope shakes in awe by the power of the chainsaw - I’m lost in the narcissistic membranes of brain synapses that pay me no mind - like the cave in your head - presiding over its own prolonged rebirth - Maybe I should ask for help. I just don't know. It’s all a bit of a blur - The only thing that has ever made one iota of sense to me is the art and the art never fails me even when I fail myself"
"Birds that hadn’t learned to fly yet were about to be hauled away in trucks - I woke up screaming like a Barbie with no head and whose Dreamhouse is under water - soaked through and through with debris and fish feces - a shortage of coffins - The Pope shakes in awe by the power of the chainsaw - I’m lost in the narcissistic membranes of brain synapses that pay me no mind - like the cave in your head - presiding over its own prolonged rebirth - Maybe I should ask for help. I just don't know. It’s all a bit of a blur - The only thing that has ever made one iota of sense to me is the art and the art never fails me even when I fail myself"February 22, 2018
A NEW Review of a Vintage Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook ("Girl Gang" by Juliet Cook)
"There is a thread in the literary world that has always separated the artists from the writers, the authors from the illustrators, and those who paint a picture with our words from those that paint a picture with their brush. Every work that Juliet Cook does seems to blow this idea out of the water, and I must confess that I get a little giddy when another one of her works makes it into my hands. How, then, that 2007’s Girl Gang has evaded me for this long is beyond me.Bound in pink ribbon, the lavender cover immediately grabs one’s attention, as if to hearken back to the days of fairy tales and properly gendered toys. And while the silver-shimmer-glitter pages add an aesthetic all its own, one would be mistaken to think that this would be a leisurely stroll down the hallowed halls of feminine stereotypes.This book grabs your stereotypes by the balls and force-feeds them to you."These lines are the beginning of a vintage review by M. Earl Smith of my Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, "Girl Gang", which was published in 2007.The review was just published yesterday at Galatea Resurrects, but the reason it's vintage is because the chapbook is more than 10 years old. 
birds
A female cardinal in my front yard, February 2018.
A young robin in my front yard, February 2018.February 21, 2018
"Lesson #3: Revisit the same themes over and over again (but also keep experimenting)"
"Lesson #3: Revisit the same themes over and over again (but also keep experimenting)"Sometimes I wonder if my poetry is a semi-repetitive, semi-pointless sort of plateau, because I seem to write different variations on the same thoughts/feelings/experiences/thematics again and again, for years.On one hand, I feel like if that's what I need to write about, then that's what I need to write about - but on the other hand, I wonder if I'm somehow unintentionally stuck and somehow unable to rise up - but on the other hand (yes I have at least three different hands), what does "rise up" even mean? It's not like I'm aiming towards heaven. I'm aiming towards always being me and growing closer to my own interpretation of my own mental reality.I've loved Louise Bourgeois' art for years and so reading this creative piece of writing about her/her thoughts/her art improved my state of mind about my own repetition.https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-artist-louise-bourgeois?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=sm-editorial-evergreen&utm_content=fb-1-how-to-be-an-artist-according-to-louise-borgeois
February 8, 2018
A few more photos from the Words Made Visible Reception
Adding a few more photos from the Lit Youngstown Words Made Visible Reception (February 3, 2018).
These photos were taken by Melanie Rae Buonavolonta.
Darryl and I looking at art inspired by poetry.
The piece of ceramic art, created by Sean Staser, inspired by my poem, "Every Hole is Broken".
me reading my poetry
These photos were taken by Melanie Rae Buonavolonta.
Darryl and I looking at art inspired by poetry.
The piece of ceramic art, created by Sean Staser, inspired by my poem, "Every Hole is Broken".
me reading my poetryFebruary 6, 2018
Words Made Visible (A Lit Youngstown literary-visual art collaboration & exhibit at The Soap Gallery)
At Lit Youngstown Presents Words Made Visible, a literary-visual art collaboration & exhibit at The Soap Gallery, February 3, 2018
Ceramic art created by Sean Staser, inspired by my poem "Every Hole is Broken".
(The poem that inspired the art - Photos of the art - A photo of me reading my poetry - A photo of me and the art and the artist)
***
EVERY HOLE IS BROKEN
You inserted small
bugs into my body
like it was just another
machine
until you lost
and I lost.
You just moved on
to the next slot
and didn't seem to care
that my slot had
stopped working.
Screaming on the other side
of a fallen down mirror.
Imprisoned inside my own
twisted cells. Gagging out
bloody coins until drained.
~Juliet Cook~
(previously published in Issue 2 of Rogue Agent)
Ceramic art created by Sean Staser, inspired by my poem "Every Hole is Broken".
(The poem that inspired the art - Photos of the art - A photo of me reading my poetry - A photo of me and the art and the artist)
***
EVERY HOLE IS BROKEN
You inserted small
bugs into my body
like it was just another
machine
until you lost
and I lost.
You just moved on
to the next slot
and didn't seem to care
that my slot had
stopped working.
Screaming on the other side
of a fallen down mirror.
Imprisoned inside my own
twisted cells. Gagging out
bloody coins until drained.
~Juliet Cook~
(previously published in Issue 2 of Rogue Agent)
February 2, 2018
A Zine and an Anthology and Me
My slightly freakish face with two recently acquired poetry collections beneath it.
Excited to have a poem in each of these books!Paper and Ink Literary Zine, Girls to the Front (sold out).Nasty Women & Bad Hombres, A Poetry Anthology (edited by Deena November & Nina Padolf, published by Lascaux Editions, and still available for purchase,here - https://www.amazon.com/dp/0989192253/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_awdo_t2_wcKaAbD6EXGZS)
Excited to have a poem in each of these books!Paper and Ink Literary Zine, Girls to the Front (sold out).Nasty Women & Bad Hombres, A Poetry Anthology (edited by Deena November & Nina Padolf, published by Lascaux Editions, and still available for purchase,here - https://www.amazon.com/dp/0989192253/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_awdo_t2_wcKaAbD6EXGZS)February 1, 2018
folding or flailing
This is not meant as a negative commentary about small presses or editors or publishers. After all, I run my own tiny indie small press (and I'm not some sort of perfect professional expert and I'm not a fan of business socks) and I've always been personally drawn towards small indie presses.
This is just more like a personal mini-rant of small frustration.
In the last less than three years, I've had three different encounters where a poetry chapbook of mine was accepted, but then never ended up being published by the press that accepted it.
If this would have been a onetime thing, I don't think I'd have quite as big of a mental glitch about the matter, but three times in less than three years?
One was solicited, I pulled it out of the other presses it was submitted to, the tentative publication date was put off several times, and then communication from the press just stopped, until I finally just pulled my chapbook out and started submitting it elsewhere.
The other one was accepted by a small press that ended up shutting down close to a year ago - but shortly after that, another small press said they'd love to publish it - but yesterday, I was informed that other small press has decided to shut down too.
So my first poetry submission of February 2018 was submitting a poetry chapbook that's been accepted twice, but then let go of twice, to ANOTHER small press.
I'm not mad; I'm just rather frustrated by this three time sequence of exciting acceptances disappearing into nothing.
Interestingly enough, one of the chapbooks is entitled "circles into nothing". Maybe I should re-name it. Maybe its title is making this happen.
I know a lot of writers have undergone this kind of thing in recent years. Getting extremely excited about having a chapbook or even a full-length book accepted for publication - and then eagerly awaiting that publication - and then having the press suddenly shut down and feeling like you have to start over with your book again (and sometimes wondering if you even SHOULD start over again). The limbo land of an accepted chapbook being pending pending pending and then suddenly let go of and now it's starting to feel old and causing you to wonder if maybe you ought to give up on it.
Since this has now happened to me three times in less than three years, part of my brain feels like giving up on submitting these chapbooks. I'm not saying I'm going to do that, but it has crossed my mind. Also, it's crossed my mind that maybe I should just publish one of my own chapbooks myself, so it can be published before it feels even older, and so that I can move on, without giving up.
I know some people look down on self-publishing and/or don't take it as seriously as being published by another press, but I don't want these two chapbooks of mine to remain in limbo land for another year. Maybe I should compile my three unpublished chapbooks into a full-length manuscript and start submitting that instead. Or maybe I should swallow them all up and then spit them out into something new, like some vomiting broken bird shaped piece of art.
I can handle rejection, but this feels different than rejection. This is getting all excited about an acceptance, extracting your accepted work from other sources, having your accepted work on hold for half a year or more, and then having it suddenly released into the wilderness again and having to start over with it again and wondering if its wings are too misshapen to continue the journey and wondering what the journey even is.
Maybe I'm being melodramatic here, but hey, I'm a poet.
(My next mini-rant might be about how porn appeals to me less and less now that most porn stars are close to half my age. Or it might not. Time will tell I guess.)
This is just more like a personal mini-rant of small frustration.
In the last less than three years, I've had three different encounters where a poetry chapbook of mine was accepted, but then never ended up being published by the press that accepted it.
If this would have been a onetime thing, I don't think I'd have quite as big of a mental glitch about the matter, but three times in less than three years?
One was solicited, I pulled it out of the other presses it was submitted to, the tentative publication date was put off several times, and then communication from the press just stopped, until I finally just pulled my chapbook out and started submitting it elsewhere.
The other one was accepted by a small press that ended up shutting down close to a year ago - but shortly after that, another small press said they'd love to publish it - but yesterday, I was informed that other small press has decided to shut down too.
So my first poetry submission of February 2018 was submitting a poetry chapbook that's been accepted twice, but then let go of twice, to ANOTHER small press.
I'm not mad; I'm just rather frustrated by this three time sequence of exciting acceptances disappearing into nothing.
Interestingly enough, one of the chapbooks is entitled "circles into nothing". Maybe I should re-name it. Maybe its title is making this happen.
I know a lot of writers have undergone this kind of thing in recent years. Getting extremely excited about having a chapbook or even a full-length book accepted for publication - and then eagerly awaiting that publication - and then having the press suddenly shut down and feeling like you have to start over with your book again (and sometimes wondering if you even SHOULD start over again). The limbo land of an accepted chapbook being pending pending pending and then suddenly let go of and now it's starting to feel old and causing you to wonder if maybe you ought to give up on it.
Since this has now happened to me three times in less than three years, part of my brain feels like giving up on submitting these chapbooks. I'm not saying I'm going to do that, but it has crossed my mind. Also, it's crossed my mind that maybe I should just publish one of my own chapbooks myself, so it can be published before it feels even older, and so that I can move on, without giving up.
I know some people look down on self-publishing and/or don't take it as seriously as being published by another press, but I don't want these two chapbooks of mine to remain in limbo land for another year. Maybe I should compile my three unpublished chapbooks into a full-length manuscript and start submitting that instead. Or maybe I should swallow them all up and then spit them out into something new, like some vomiting broken bird shaped piece of art.
I can handle rejection, but this feels different than rejection. This is getting all excited about an acceptance, extracting your accepted work from other sources, having your accepted work on hold for half a year or more, and then having it suddenly released into the wilderness again and having to start over with it again and wondering if its wings are too misshapen to continue the journey and wondering what the journey even is.
Maybe I'm being melodramatic here, but hey, I'm a poet.
(My next mini-rant might be about how porn appeals to me less and less now that most porn stars are close to half my age. Or it might not. Time will tell I guess.)
This Saturday February 3, Words Made Visible!
This Saturday! Poetry and art!Words Made Visible is a literary-visual art collaboration, associated with Lit Youngstown and Youngstown State University. Poems and prose by Ohio-affiliated writers were chosen to be printed on posters, broadsides and stamped into sidewalks. Students in YSU art classes chose poems and stories and responded to them through visual art.Two of my poems were selected by YSU Ceramics students! I will get to see their art and read my poems Saturday, as well as seeing lots of other art and listening to lots of other poems. More details here - https://www.facebook.com/events/418501788552920/
