One of the stories that I did not include in my book was when I went bungy jumping at the head of the Nile in Uganda. I felt like I was dying. I wondered if my feet would slip out of the contraption that was lined with simple, ragged towels. But then I jumped and I couldn't un-jump.
Doing this book thing is kinda like that.
I am very honored to have a guest blog post over at Missing in the Mission, a very cool aid work (and more) blog. Please check out my piece, but also the whole blog. Lotsa good stuff: "A blog for and by aid workers, about the process of taking care of ourselves and each other."
I am so excited and nervous to put this book up on Amazon (Kindle and print), B&N (Nook and print), and iBooks. I must recommend the print edition. It is much nicer. Please buy it. Please leave reviews!
It will probably be a week from now.
Been workin' you fool.
So now I'm done. Please rejoice with me.
Dern. Submit. Reject.
(this is actually 99 words)
M E R C Y
Even if that fault was never mine, I still hold black rage against me. I pound my temples, I want to jump, my throat still burns from screaming.
It takes hard work to NOT kill you.
It takes hard work to NOT feel shame.
It takes hard work to write this story, and I aim only to inform you that I am burning, rabid, and awake. I am every child that you re-birthed. I am every bitch whose lust you cursed.
The thick tight spot above my navel has finally burst and I am the beginning of the world.
I had an interesting revelation today, that's probably obvious to most seasoned writers:
When people know you, face to face, when they look into your eyes, when they are closer to you than your species or your pride, they read your writing differently. Of course. They're kinder in some ways. Might not tell you when you suck.
But, they also don't want to know too much.
They already know you. They might not need to know the rest.
What was left unsaid, was maybe silenced for a reason.
So if you know me, and don't want to know, then don't read this.
But I am proud to share that I've been published as part of a blog post of mini-essays on the blog TRUE at Proximity Magazine.
true stories of silenced women
My intro when I performed this poem live went like this:
"I wrote this as a children's story, but it's not appropriate for children. It's a gangster story called Crown and Cheek."
Never the less, I had my son read it for you too.
I swear to god, I didn't coach Paco at all. He's a fricking natural storyteller at 5 years old.
I'm a big fan of Dubai Poetics. They do more than just the magazine. They have readings, events, promote arts here in Dubai. Hats off.
I'm also a big fan of Farah Chamma, a poet and spoken word artist. I've linked to her stuff before (see below). She's pretty well known in these parts. She's beautiful and awesome.
Well, recently Dubai Poetics organized a 2-day workshop on with Farah about performing poetry. Of course I had to go. And it was super fun!
What I learned: I am not really a performer. Poetry to be spoken can be/should be/must be much be simpler that that for reading.
See you June 9th for my debut as a storyteller. I would say storyteller. The piece I chose is a story, with some rhymes, but it's a story.
Writings that are not 99 words long can be found here.