I am recovering from major surgery nine weeks ago. I have been described by some who are nearest and dearest that I am not just an overachiever, but a classic type A personality. To which I say “Balderdash. Not in the least.” But one thing that has become all too apparent is that I love naps. At last one, if not more, a day. And while it feels like an enforced putting down of my will to write, and do, and create, and clear out, I don’t really care. My body has other plans. This is what my medical team refers to as “rest and recuperation.” Rest. Now there’s a thought.
I’m a writer – poetry, short stories, and an almost completed first novel. In all writing (and my reading) I find that the rest periods allow me, the reader, to think, to consider what I just read. One habit I recently developed is reading my poetry out loud, primarily to myself (unless there is a willing listener close by). This is not a new habit, just rediscovered, after a lapse of more than 50 years. I used to do this in college, for it helped me understand what the writer was trying to get across.
What I found in my personal poetry was timing. which phrases required slight stress, pauses, clear enunciation. And my habit of reading each one thee times allowed me to hear with different ears. The rhythm, the internal stresses, cadence, alliteration.
Poetry has always been a way of understanding the emotional frame of mind of both the poet and the listener. The oldest poetry we have records of shows that the stories and sagas were all oral, as well as aural. They transported the listener into another world, a world of magic, feeling, creation, alternate realities, explanations of heroic journeys.
And reading and hearing poetry aloud gives me a different perspective. I remember my grade school librarian reading stories to us. Magic. We could not get enough. It whetted an appetite for more, for it was a group activity led by an older and wiser person.
And the greatest value in my listening, was when she paused, created a resting spot, and then continued. I can imagine sitting around a night fire, listening to a traveling bard recite sagas. Just for me. It became personal, and valuable, and I was personally included in the vast story.
My current resting spot is in my recliner, head back, legs propped up. Napping away. I am not “shoulding” on myself as much. I am resting more, waiting for the next phrase, the next idea, the next thing I don’t have the energy to do. Resting is good, although it is contrary to my nature. But the recliner is so very comfortable!
I was thrilled today to have the privilege to mail three new Old Scratch Press books off to the National Book Awards! If you follow all of our doings around here you may have seen this post from last year, where I was lucky enough to do the same thing!
Gosh, you know, we’re going up against the big guys when we send our books in to the National Books Awards. Most of the other books being sent in are going to have been written by well-established poets with a long history of publication, or brand new poets being championed by their mentors who are the big guys in their fields, and those other books are also going to come from traditional (read as: large and monied) presses or university presses, which, like the big publishing houses, also have lots of disposable income and connections. I got my MFA; I know how that all works. And still, I don’t care about the competition. I care that we have wonderful poets. Morgan Golladay has been writing her poetry throughout most of her adult life, and salting it away for “someday,” and Nadja Maril and Gabby Gilliam have been submitting and getting small wins with their writing for years now, and why isn’t their writing as deserving as anyone else’s? It absolutely is! It gives me a total thrill to just think about getting them into this contest, where they get a chance to stand shoulder to shoulder with the “big guys.” And get this—Carolyn Forché is one of the judges this year! Carolyn Forché! It’s mind-blowing to think that a poet from our little collective is going to be read by her. I still remember how my teachers raved about Carolyn Forché’s book THE COUNTRY BETWEEN US back in the ’90s. We read it and discussed it over and over with reverence. The idea that she’ll be reading one of our books? It’s just wild.
So, lovely people following our progress as a collective and a press, please join me in crossing your fingers and blowing on one of these:
as we send Gabby, Nadja, and Morgan off to the National Book Awards to try their luck!
And hey, dear reader of this blog, why not snag a copy for yourself in a show of support?
Flash prose, poetry, and essays inspired by her kitchen, garden, and family memories; Nadja Maril’s chapbook, RECIPES FROM. MY GARDEN is a sensual feast for the soul. Drawing upon her life experiences as an artist’s daughter, antiques dealer, journalist, and author; Maril mines simple objects for meaning and creates a lavish buffet.
Editorial Praise for RECIPES FROM MY GARDEN
“Suffused with the tastes of cilantro, mint, and cucumber fresh from a garden, the smell of salt air from the ocean’s edge, the familiar scent of coffee and tobacco from a father’s hug, or the simple pleasure of the sounds of clicking insects through a backdoor screen, Nadja Maril’s lovely and sensitive RECIPES FROM MY GARDENis a feast for the senses and a balm for the spirit. While exploring personal memories that touch on abstract questions of identity and history, Maril also reminds us of the tiny yet profound comforts of earthly existence.” –Aaron Hamburger, author of HOTEL CUBA—
“In RECIPES FROM MY GARDEN, Nadja Maril casts a richly sensual literary spell. From the deft and resonant garden-inspired pieces that find the taste of ‘summer’ in basil and celebrate the ‘welcoming gaze of sunflowers,’ to the sharply observed portraits of small yet potent memories— buying a perfect dress with her mother; baking a cake ‘too beautiful to be cut’– Maril mines moral and spiritual meaning from everyday life. The promise Maril makes about a ‘chicken and rice’ recipe is true of this whole vibrant chapbook: ‘soul nutrition it will provide.’ ” –Elizabeth Searle, novelist and scriptwriter (A FourSided Bed; I’ll Show You Mine)–
“RECIPES FROM MY GARDENcelebrates the splendor of traversing a literary life and surviving the time of Covid. Nadja Maril’s first collection of poetic prose, flash memoir, and poetry introduces us to her family, her nurtured garden, and the myriad spaces she navigates to cope with our world. With true artistic excellence, Nadja’s words yearn for an understanding of what troubles us, inviting us into a landscape of riddles, questions and puzzles.” –Indigo Moor, author of Everybody’s Jonesin’ for Something—
“[RECIPES FROM MY GARDEN] is a treasure of small love stories: odes to beloved kitchens, and vegetable gardens, and the simple joys of a blooming sunflower. It is a book of memory and of pleasure that speaks of the love of family across many generations. The passed-down recipes inside the pages are themselves the most generous kind of love letter.” –Susan Conley, author of Landslide—
[In NO OCEAN SPIT ME OUT] Gabby Gilliam’s verse preserves the feel of the summer farm, contrasting its fertile brightness with the struggle between grief and the sudden absence of connection to family and place. Belonging and the struggle to continue remembering clash on the page, while the passion for life’s diverse and tactile experiences dazzle the reader with tantalizing gasps of zucchini, crab apples, and blackberry wine. Each poem gives the reader their own lingering taste of her ghosts. -Kim Malinowski-
NO OCEAN SPIT ME OUT is a captivating debut collection of poetry that delves deep into the intricate tapestry of family dynamics and personal evolution. Within its 30 poems, the collection embarks on a profound journey through the stages of coming of age, navigating the complexities of familial bonds, grappling with organized religion, and ultimately, embracing the essence of self-acceptance. Whether you’re seeking solace in the shared experiences of family relationships or searching for introspective insights into the nuances of identity and faith, this collection offers a profound and thought-provoking exploration of the human condition.
“Sometimes stark, but always beautiful, these free verse celebrations of North Mountain introduce a seasonal sense of environmental transitions to the observer and reader’s eye, with time’s passage changing everything and nothing…Aside from a personal visit to North Mountain, there is no better way of appreciating its beauty, impact, and presence over the eons than through THE SONG OF NORTH MOUNTAIN.” —MIDWEST BOOK REVIEW—
From the mighty pen of artist and author Morgan Golladay comes THE SONG OF NORTH MOUNTAIN, a transformative collection of poetry and art celebrating the famous and mystical North Mountain of Appalachia. North Mountain, a wildland in the George Washington and Jefferson National Forests of western Virginia, has been recognized by the Wilderness Society as a special place worthy of protection from logging and road construction. The Wilderness Society has designated the area as a “Mountain Treasure.” Morgan Golladay brings her readers to dwell in the reverence of this wonderful wilderness. Golladay is an award-winning author who was raised on North Mountain and lives in coastal Delaware as part of a thriving artist and author community. All words and art in this book are by Golladay.
OLD SCRATCH PRESS 