A WWS Publication Roundup for August

A laptop computer with an article titled "Submissions Made Simple" on the screen and a stack of literary journals sits on top of the laptop base, titles facing out

The summer has come to an end but that hasn’t stopped Women Who Submit writers from getting their words into the world! Congrats to everyone who had work published in August.

From Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo‘s “Ghost Interview with a Soldier in the Peach Orchard” at Rivard Report:

Gettysburg National Military Park

In your final moments, whom did you think of?
Was this someone waiting for you to return? 
I worry I will never find that someone waiting

behind a thick front door of a home we made together. 

From Désirée Zamorano‘s “Memento Mori: On Angel Luis Colón’s ‘Hell Chose Me‘” at Los Angeles Review of Books:

Set in contemporary Bronx, moving between the past and the present, it’s a tense and intriguing thrill ride. Sure, we’ve met mordant, conflicted assassins before, like Lawrence Block’s Keller, Barry Eisler’s John Rain, or Bill Hader’s Barry. In Colón’s hands, Walsh hits familiar notes, but in a key all his own…

From Kate Maruyama‘s “Traces” at Magnolia Review:

Seven months after we lost our father to cancer, we were meeting again, Roger, Janey and I, to sort through the arrangements for our mother’s funeral. Who loses both of their parents so close together? Who loses both of their parents so young? I thought they’d at least be around to see a grandkid or two.

From an interview with Carla Sameth about her debut memoir One Day on the Gold Line at Points:

I think that writing as a family member of those struggling with drug and alcohol addiction (both my wife and son are in recovery) provides a unique perspective. I write a lot about the process I went through understanding addiction as a disease, and looking at my own shit (including addictive behavior) and how I interacted with my son who struggled with alcohol and drug addiction in his teens.

Read an excerpt of Carla‘s memoir at Angels Flight Literary West!

From Danielle Mitchell‘s “Not Wolf” at Poets Reading the News:

Not red, not Mexican, not lowland.
                      No bonnet, no white-tailed, bighorn.

Forget black foot, leave the beach
                      the brow-antlered, San Joaquin, San

Miguel, no woodland, no salt marsh.

From “Visit to Makon” by Bo Hwang at wildness:

After a winter of droughts, my childhood friend—my only kind of sweetheart—moves back to Makon. The city we grew up in; the city we all left. She’s there now, in a house with twelve women, only one her age, a high school teacher from another island, the rest are medical students.

“Seven balconies,” she boasts. “You can see the hospital.”

From Liz Harmer‘s “Right to Grapple” at the Malahat Review:

Let me give you an idea of the sorts of discussions we get into here. On the first Sunday afternoon, just after the little blue VW bug scraped out of here on the gravel road with my mom inside it, I managed to get into an argument about rocks. I was standing near this old tetherball post with my three sacks—my backpack, my rolled-up sleeping bag, and my garbage bag full of clothes—waiting for one of the H______s to escort me to my cabin and halfheartedly hitting the ball. Blam. Blam. Blam in one direction, blam in the other. Then this guy whose real name I cannot reveal comes up to me. 

From Cori Bratby-Rudd‘s “Puppyelectric” at Nailed:

I want Indian food, urgently, intensely, the cream of the tikka masala, the flaked fluffed naan, and so I order it because I remember desperation and I refuse to feel it again. I don’t just order it, I order it delivered and I feel something like royalty, for wanting something and then for having it. Strange to want and then get, as though desires can actually happen for someone like me.

From Li Yun Alvarado‘s “Poe Park” at Aster(ix) Journal:

From this cottage,
where he heard
his young cousin
bride, Virginia

Congratulations to Tanya Ko Hong whose poem, “The Crying Game” was published at Birds Fall Silent in the Mechanical Sea!

Congratulations to Amanda L. Andrei whose script, Waiting for a Birthday, was published in The First Five Years Anthology from Thinking in Full Color!

Strategies for Submitting to Tier One Journals

Eight women with laptops sit on either side of a long table, smiling at the camera

by Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo

The 6th Annual WWS Submission Blitz on Saturday, September 14th is when we call on women and nonbinary writers across the country (and world) to submit to tier one journals en masse as an annual call to action for gender parity in literary publishing. Though we find it important to support and empower each writer in finding her/their own submission and publication goals, sending work to whichever publications, contests, workshops, residencies, and the like are fitting to the individual, we ask our communities to join us in submitting to top tier journals on this one day of the year in honor of WWS’s history and mission and our shared fight for equitable representation, pay, and career opportunities.

In 2009, Vida, Women in Literary Arts counted how many women were published in tier one journals in comparison to how many men. The numbers of the first Vida Count showed unequivocal evidence of a great gender disparity in these publications. When the organization began asking the editors of these journals why the numbers were so, the most common answer from editors was that women don’t submit as often or resubmit as aggressively as men. 

In 2011, Women Who Submit was created in response to this conversation. WWS cofounder, Alyss Dixson, who worked with Vida at the time, had the idea to create a submission party–a co-working space for women to share resources, journals, and food, and to submit in real time–to help skew the numbers. 

With many barriers to consider when submitting to tier one journals, the following five steps are shared with your success in mind. And remember, the act of sending your work into the world is its own success.

STEP ONE: PREPARE A PIECE TO SUBMIT

FAQ: How do I know what to send? 

One of the first workshops WWS hosted was in early 2016 on contest strategies with Tammy De La Torre. Her strategy is to choose work that is an absolute favorite, work that you as the writer want to see in the world. Contests and tier one journals are similar in that they are highly competitive. Sometimes you may write a new piece and choose to submit it to a couple of journals as a way of throwing it against the wall to see what sticks. When submitting to tier one, it’s best to pick pieces that have been tested and fine-tuned. If not that, then pieces that are personally urgent or essential.  

FAQ: How do I know when it’s ready?

For most writers, it’s normal to find elements to tweak or fix even after publication. A piece may never be “perfect,” but it’s your job as a writer to send your best work. You can do this through revisions and by utilizing friends and colleagues for first and second read throughs. It’s not always easy to find someone with time or interest to read your work, so invite another writer to do an exchange. This way you’re both benefitting as well as building bonds with a peer. In general, avoid sending work before having another set of eyes on it. 

STEP TWO: SELECT A JOURNAL

FAQ: How do I know where to send? 

For this project, WWS encourages women and nonbinary writers to submit to tier one journals in honor of the VIDA Count and the creation of the first Submission Party in 2011. A tier one journal typically has large distribution and readership, many awards, and pays its readers. Check out the Clifford Garstang blog for annual lists of tier one journals in fiction, nonfiction, and poetry.

Below is a list top tier journals with current open submissions curated by Tisha Marie Reichle-Aguilera (find links and descriptions for each on our FB page):

Poetry

Kenyon Review

American Poetry Journal

Threepenny Review

New England Review

Southern Review

Gettysburg Review

Ploughshares

The Sun

One Story

Conjunctions

Paris Review

Ecotone

American Short Fiction

Georgia Review

Granta

New Letters

Agni

Almagundi

The Point

Fourth Genre

FAQ: What if I can’t buy all the magazines?

Every magazine will ask you to read past issues before submitting to ensure your work is a good fit. Reading the issue will also help with adding one specific detail about the journal in your cover letter. This is important for building communication and relationships with editors. But print journals are expensive, so pull resources with friends. Swap old copies. Share subscriptions. Or find past issues in libraries and in the creative writing departments on college campuses.

STEP THREE: WRITE A COVER LETTER

FAQ: What should I put in a cover letter? 

  1. Address the editor directly by finding specific editors’ names on the journal masthead. The easiest way to find the masthead is to Google “[journal name] masthead.” If you still can’t find the editor’s name, address the letter as “Dear [specific genre] editors.”
  2. Name the title of your piece or pieces
  3. Give one reason why you have chosen to send your work to this particular journal. This is where you can let the editor know you’ve done your homework by reading past issues. Make it short. Make it specific. 
  4. Write a short bio with your related credits. 

For an example, check out “Your Perfect Cover Letter” at the review review.

FAQ: What if I have no credits?

If you haven’t been published, it’s ok to say so. You can also include writing classes, workshops, or memberships, but don’t make up credits, and don’t fill space with cuties details. 

STEP FOUR: HIT SEND

FAQ: How important are guidelines?

The quickest way to be rejected is to not follow a journal’s guidelines. Thoroughly read the guidelines and be sure your submission is adhering to what the journal asks for. Every journal is different, so do one last check before you send. 

FAQ: Can I send the same work to multiple places?

If a journal does not specify otherwise, the answer is yes. Be sure to track (see step five) where you’re sending work because if a journal accepts a piece (YAY!), it’s your job to notify the other journals and withdraw. If a journal says they don’t take “simultaneous submissions” follow the guidelines and decide if you want to submit knowing they may not respond for a long stretch of time.

 FAQ: Who will help me celebrate when I hit send?

WWS will be submitting en masse to tier one journals on Saturday, September 14th from 12am-11:59pm. No matter where in the country (or world) you live, we encourage you to gather a few friends and have your own submission party. A typical WWS submission party will include shared copies of journals, wifi, computers, and plenty of snacks. And of course, don’t forget to audibly cheer anytime anyone hits send! 

If you are unable to gather with others, be sure to @womenwhosubmit on Twitter or Instagram, and we’ll send you plenty of claps and cheers from afar. 

If you’re in Los Angeles, you can meet us at The Faculty (707 N Heliotrope Dr, Los Angeles, California 90029) with your laptop on September 14th from 12:30pm-4pm. 

STEP FIVE: TRACK SUBMISSIONS

FAQ: What do I do after I “hit send”? 

Once you’ve celebrated, be sure to record the submission in your submission tracker. A tracker is a spreadsheet with columns for journal name, date submitted, title of piece submitted, etc. No two trackers are the same, but what’s most important is for you to know who has your work and for how long. This will help with building relationships with journals and self-advocating. 

FAQ: How long should I wait before sending a query?

Many journals will tell you how long to wait before checking in, and what they say should be followed. Some journals may respond within two months, but for many of the larger journals a reply can take 6-12 months. If a journal doesn’t specify, I typically wait six months before querying, but it’s not uncommon to wait two or three.

Writing on a Budget: Freedom to Write

By Lisbeth Coiman

Freedom
To dissent
to speak for those
Without a voice
Caged tortured
Bargaining chips
Of bipartisan and geopolitics
Games

Freedom
To stand up tall
A palm tree
Bending to the strong
Santa Ana winds
Resisting
Racism intolerance bigotry

Freedom
To raise my voice
Through the bars
Of my own prison
syllabi lesson plans
meetings and PDs
paying for the luxury
of writing while living in LA
eyes heavy on keyboard
adding pectin to this substance
a thick jam
Made of Priuses and Ferraris
Seasoned with jacaranda flowers
Slowing my pace
Through the traps
Abundant in this jungle
Mired in cyberspace’s
Slush of algorithms.

To speak for those
who can’t dissent
I must earn my own
Freedom


The following publications are seeking work by emerging writers:

1. JuxtaProse
Word limit: 5 to 7000 words
Genre: Fiction
Deadline: Sept. 30, 2019
Submission Fee: $13-18
Submission Guidelines

2. Chronically Lit
Word limit: ?
Genre: Fiction, non-fiction, poetry, reviews
Deadline: First day of each month
Submission Fees: first 100 submissions free. Then tip jar.
Submission Guidelines

3. Orca. Cover Letter Contest
Word limit: Under 300 words
Genre: flash fiction, flash non-fiction
Deadline: Aug. 31, 2019
Submission Fees: $5
Price: 1st. $200, 2nd. $75, 3rd. $50
Submission Guidelines


Writer Lisbeth Coiman from the shoulders up, standing in front of a flower bush
Lisbeh Coiman is an emerging bilingual writer wandering standing at the intersection between immigration and mental health. Her work has been published in Entropy, Nailed, Rabid Oak, Hipmama and other online magazines, and several anthologies. Her self-published memoir, I Asked the Blue Heron, (2017) explores issues of child abuse, immigration, and mental health. She lives in Los Angeles, and teaches at Harbor Occupational Center.

A WWS Publication Roundup for July

A laptop computer with an article titled "Submissions Made Simple" on the screen and a stack of literary journals sits on top of the laptop base, titles facing out

July has been one of the most prolific months for WWS writers with a long list of publications. Congrats to all!

Congratulations to Carla Sameth whose memoir, One Day on the Gold Line, was released this July! Check out this interview of Carla in LitFest Pasadena!

From “I Bow to the Lessor Teacher” by Thea Pueschel at Medium:

I’ve noticed a tendency in life at studios and online of this idea that some teachers are more worthy of students, of classes or calling themselves a teacher. This little box has been around since I can remember. We’ve all heard the dismissive tone “oh, that’s not yoga” or “they’re not a real teacher.”

From “A Quarrel with the Village of My Birth” by Helena Lipstadt at Porter House Review:

which is not a village but
a shivering capital
of Europe, may she rot and be
reborn with heart. Even her
birthday song is martial. Even
her avenues are lined with
pikes. 

From Jacquelyn Stolos‘ “Wide-Shot” at Bodega:

There’s been something going on with the cat’s left eye for about a week now, this cloudy gray ooze leaking out of her tear duct. I’ve been swabbing it away with a cotton ball, once in the morning before I leave for work and once in the evening when I get home. She doesn’t let Owen do it. We’ve been trying to hold off on another trip to the vet. Poor thing is already on five daily medications, and at some point you’ve just got to consider quality of life.

From Noriko Nakada‘s “Threatened Abortion” at SFWP:

I didn’t realize I was pregnant until we were moving out of the duplex and into our new condo. After a long day of hauling boxes, I collapsed on the new hardwood floors and tried to understand my exhaustion. It was a new kind of tired—like I couldn’t get up off the floor—and I tried to remember the last time I had my period. That was when I asked my partner to pick up a test. It was New Year’s Eve. The test came up positive.

From Lituo Huang‘s “Lemonade” at Bethlehem Writers Roundtable:

Lanie looked over the table at her little sister. Cherie was having a fit, ripping her pink sundress, stomping her bare feet on the grass, pulling her frizzy braid. “I hate chocolate cake!”

From Deirdre Hennings‘ “Making Her Night” at Pulse:

In Central Park twilight,
we drop our holiday mood
like a heavy sweater in the heat
when that call sends us reeling
as leukemia sucks us
into its bell jar, rings
    our ears, jangles
          minds, reverberates 
              into bone.

Congratulations to Natalie Smith Parra whose essay “Eviction Blues,” Sakae Manning whose poem “Oakland” and Jenise Miller whose poem “Ode to the Mamas Who Make Language Beautiful” were all published in Dryland!

Congratulations to Sabrina Im who had 3 poems – “Love Letter for a Lotus,” Body Memory,” and “An August Musing” – published in Angel City Review!

Congratulations to Victoria Lynne McCoy whose poem “Dispatched from Home” was published in Tahoma Literary Review!

Congratulations to Gerda Govine Ituarte whose poem “Temple of Courage Chance Change” was featured in the Bahvna Mehta exhibit catalog!

And, finally, congratulations to Arielle Silver who launched Tidal Journal!

Breathe and Push: Stay Cool and Keep Writing

photograph of protest signs reading "End Family Separation" and "We should never separate kids from their families" along with paper cranes.

By Noriko Nakada

It’s summer again, and I’m doing my best to keep writing. I imagine we all are.

It’s summer again; three years since police killed Alton Sterling and Philando Castille. I was wrecked that summer, and had to do something, so I marched through the streets of Los Angeles with Black Lives Matter and learned to say their names. 

It’s summer again; two years since white nationalists marched in Charlottesville leaving me speechless, unsure of what to tell my young children, my nieces and nephews, and my students about people who hate them.

It’s summer again; a year since the faces of children separated from their families showed up on my feed, and the voices of children in cages transformed my dreams into night terrors.

This summer, my daughter and I stood at another protest of concentration camps for children separated at the border, and she looked up to me and asked, “They’re still doing it? They’re still keeping kids in cages?”

There have been rough news cycles during other seasons, but these past few summers have felt particularly tough. As we breathe in another heat wave in America, I urge you to keep pushing. Push your stories and voices of humanity into conversations crowded with hate and vitriol. Here are a few spaces where editors look to give voice to our times.

The Rising Phoenix Review published an issue Disarm: A Themed issue Responding to Mass Shootings in America. Regarding their publishing philosophy: “Our team is deeply committed to curating a diverse publication. We encourage writers from marginalized communities to submit to Rising Phoenix Review. Our team earnestly desires to breakdown barriers for writers and readers in marginalized communities.  We strive to make our platform a safe space for all. Our publication is open to all poets, regardless of race, age, gender, sexual orientation, nationality, or religious affiliation.”

The Santa Fe Writers Project Quarterly published an abortion ban protest issue this month and they are champions of “books, writing, and writers. With over 35 titles published since 2005, we’ve unflinchingly adapted to the changing world of publishing and we challenge the norms by embracing short stories, novellas, translations, reprints, and the avante garde. We maintain two exciting imprints – Alan Squire Publishing, specializing in boutique books and poetry, and 2040 Books, a press devoted to featuring ethnic authors and promoting diverse literature.”

Queen Mob’s Tea House published a special issue titled: “Where Are the Children” responding to the border crisis and treatment of refugee families. They are “an international online literary journal dedicated to writing, art, criticism—weird, serious, gorgeous, cross genre, spell conjuring, rant inducing work. We’re committed to creating an online platform that melds the social with the creative. A platform that speaks to your cravings, fantasies and heartbreaks; your daydreams from your lunch break; your good and bad choices; your contradictions; your process.”

Stay cool out there, writers, and keep submitting.

Noriko Nakada is the editor of the Breathe and Push column. She writes, blogs, tweets, and parents in Los Angeles. She is committed to writing thought-provoking creative non-fiction, fiction, and poetry.

Behind The Editor’s Desk: Brandi Wells

The Los Angeles area is rife with independent presses. One of those is Gold Line Press, housed in the University of Southern California. Both Gold Line and its sibling press, Ricochet Editions, are independent presses run by students and alumni of USC’s PhD Creative Writing Program. When WWS organizer Tisha Reichle-Aguilera became one of the Ricochet Editions editors, she suggested I reach out to Brandi Wells, Editor in Chief of Gold Line Editions.

Women Who Submit members should know that neither Gold Line nor Ricochet accept unsolicited submissions. But Gold Line is currently accepting submissions for their annual chapbook competition, and we encourage all of you who have chapbook length work to submit!  The deadline is August 1st.

Brandi Wells answered my questions over email.

Continue reading “Behind The Editor’s Desk: Brandi Wells”

A WWS Publication Roundup for June

A laptop computer with an article titled "Submissions Made Simple" on the screen and a stack of literary journals sits on top of the laptop base, titles facing out

What an amazingly long list of publications! Congratulations to all the Women Who Submit published in June.

Congratulations to Elline Lipkin, who published two poems, “Fingernail Moon” and “Pleine Lune” at Apricity Press! From “Fingernail Moon“:

This moon is a thin cusp that cups the vast black,
a silver rim thimbling stars into strewn seams.

From “What I Learned When I Visited Adelanto” by Lisa Cheby at Writers Resist:

the high desert stretches     hours west of airbnbs and selfie backdrops    here Joshua Trees weep

Congratulations to Cherisse Yanit Nadal who had two poems, “It hurts less when I case us in history” and “Benevolent Assimilation,” published at Marías at Sampaguitas. From “It hurts less when I cast us in history“:

1898
You are America; She: Paris;
All of my white boyfriends: Spain.
The difference, you said, Was liberty,
Was protection, Was solidarity,
A common enemy. A common bed.

Congratulations to Mia Nakaji Monnier, who had three pieces published in the Washington Post‘s local guide columns about Los Angeles, Atwater Village and Little Tokyo. From “A Local’s Guide to Los Angeles“:

Ask any Angeleno to describe the city to you and they’ll do it in a different way. There’s beach city L.A., literary L.A., the L.A. of ethnic enclaves and public art and serious sports fans and amateur foodies.

From Karin Aurino‘s “Daisy” at 50-Word Stories:

She loves me… She loves me not.
I visited her at the cemetery, laid daisies at the base of her headstone.

From “Pleated Skirt (Tante Fela)” by Helena Lipstadt at Visitant:

I am not as tall as I was
when I looked like Polly Bergen
and strolled down the shady
Warsaw sidewalk, a leather bag
in the crook of my arm.

From “Amsterdam Long Window” by Donna Sprujit-Metz at The Los Angeles Review:

What does it mean
to owe someone? A cocoon
a small blue egg, a chrysalis?

From “Chicana in New York: Gloria Anzaldúa on Spirituality and the City” by Li Yun Alvarado in MELUS:

Born on 26 September 1942, Anzaldúa became a leading Chicana feminist poet, writer, and theorist before her death in 2004. Raised near the Texas-US Southwest / Mexico border, Anzaldúa features the region prominently throughout her groundbreaking mixed-genre book Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza(1987). In the preface to Borderlands, she notes, “The actual physical borderland that I’m dealing with in this book is the Texas-U.S. Southwest/Mexican border.” 

From “Andy’s Alliance” by Noriko Nakada at *82 Review:

The absence of the Japanese Americans from Emerson Junior High leaves a massive void. Once the winter ends and the weather grows warm again, nearly a third of their classmates are gone. That is when Andy forms the alliance, to stand guard over friendships and memories until their Japanese classmates return. 

From Tammy Delatorre‘s “I Am Coming for You” at Winning Writers:

I am coming for you. My mother might have said those words the night she went after him—the bearded man, the one she took to her room all those nights. He would come over after I’d gone to bed. She carried me from her room—the only place I could fall asleep—to the room across the hall. In the sticky Hawaiian heat, I’d wake to their loud moans and groans in the middle of the night and sit straight up in bed. At six years old, the only thing I knew of sex was a glimpse I got on TV: two bodies moving under a white sheet.

Congratulations to Flint whose poem, “This Is (Not) A Love Letter: A Poem for Two Voices & M/any Ears,” was published in Our Poetica: An Anthology of Ars Poetica by Cathexis Northwest Press!

Congratulations to Tanya Ko Hong (고현혜) who published her Mini-E-Book, 유월의 눈 June Snow, this month!

Tsuru for Solidarity

multi-colored folded origami crane on a flat, black surface.

By Noriko Nakada

Read and bear witness. Retweet the tweets. Repost the images. Fold a crane. Fold another. And another.

Remember Sadako, the first story I heard, or read, about folding cranes. A girl who loved to run and play, an innocent victim of nuclear war who got leukemia years after the bombs were dropped. She folded cranes. One thousand and you get your wish. She didn’t make it to a thousand. The cranes she folded didn’t save her.

Fold cranes and attempt to make clean creases, to give energy and thoughts and wishes to children. Innocent victims again. This time they are in cages. This time they are separated from their families. Treated like animals. Criminals.

My sister-in-law folded 1000 cranes for her wedding. I contributed 200 to the cause. She had all 1000 of those gold folded origami cranes and assembled in a beautiful framed tsuri in the shape of the Nakada Kanji. In the rice field.

I once folded cranes at a table at the Deschutes County Fair in Oregon. I think we were protesting death squads in El Salvador, or the murder of a priest in Nicaragua, or the disappeared in Guatemala. Maybe it was later, and we were protesting nuclear weapons testing, or the first Iraq war, or acknowledging the anniversaries of Hiroshima or Nagasaki. I taught nice white folks in Central Oregon who had never met anyone Japanese, who couldn’t believe my dad had been incarcerated as a child during World War II. “Well, that sure doesn’t sound very ‘Merican.”

It was. It is. America is all the truths we hold to be self-evident: the good and the bad. The ugly. We are a country built by people taken by force, built by people brought by force and forced to build this nation. This history is in the bones of the body of our nation.

We are a country who takes Native children from their families. We exclude immigrants from certain countries and embrace immigrants from another. We incarcerate whole families during times of war and turn refugees away and sentence them to death. We drop nuclear weapons on entire cities, take sides in civil wars, go to battle in the name of democracy, fight against communism, ensure our people have access to oil and resources and markets all for America and the pursuit of happiness.

We elect men who enslave, who father enslaved children, who rape, who murder, who who who.

So, today I fold. I teach friends to fold. I teach my daughter to fold and while we fold we think about the ways we can push back against all that is wrong. Push, y’all, and keep pushing. 

Check out Tsuru for Solidarity on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram to find ways you can help push back. 


Noriko Nakada HeadshotNoriko Nakada is a public school teacher and the editor of the Breathe and Push column. She writes, blogs, tweets, and parents in Los Angeles. She is committed to writing thought-provoking creative non-fiction, fiction, and poetry.

Working Through Writer’s Block

A pen and a stone sitting on a opened page of a hardcover book along with a journal and a small alter of candles.

By Thea Pueschel

The screen is blank, your fingers perch on the keyboard, the cursor is blinking at you, and your deadline is looming. Every writer experiences writer’s block at some point in their career. Perhaps, the blinking cursor and the blank screen even pervade your sleeping hours. When you are in a writing rut, and it feels as if there isn’t an exit it’s time to break free and find the flow again.

Body journal and breathe

You’re experiencing writer’s block with that comes a specific sensation or feeling. It’s time to step away from the computer. Take out a pen and paper and begin to write down the sensations you are feeling in your body. Give yourself 5-10 minutes for this exercise. Is your jaw tight? Can you associate the feeling with something else? Write it down. Are your shoulders shrugged up to your ears? When has that happened before? Write it down.

Go through as much of your body as you can in this time frame, write down the feelings and sensations as well as when you have experienced them before. Once, you’ve journaled, inhale deeply and exhale until your lungs feel empty. Take three breaths like this, stand up and stretch. You are ready to conquer the blank screen.

Stichomancy or bibliomancy

You’re stuck. Your thought pattern is circling and not going anywhere near what you need to write.  The muse has wandered away. Perhaps, relying on a 3,000-year-old divination technique would invite the muse back in. Stichomancy or bibliomancy is a divination technique where a random line or passage from a book or the bible is selected to help guide a person in life. This technique works well to get outside of your head, and change perspective.

Take a small stone or a coin; open the book of your choice. With your eyes closed drop the object on the open page. Look where it landed, take 5 minutes to write about the selected line or rewrite the text, or write about the topic from a different point of view. Once your creative channels are clear, it’s time to get back to your work.

When you write, it’s easy to get trapped in your perspective especially when you are feeling blocked. Using stichomancy requires you to write from a place that is outside your norm bringing a fresh approach to your creativity.  The body journal and breathe technique helps you reconnect to your body, explore your sensations and give them a voice which helps clear the mind and the body of blockages.

These techniques are a great way to break up the monotony of self-judgment and get your writing to flow again. Sometimes, the muse just needs to be taken for a walk through different techniques to open the channels of communication.

Thea Pueschel is a hypnotherapist, yoga/meditation teacher. She writes, creates visual art, and teaches yoga teachers and doulas how to deliver and write meditations in and around L.A. and Orange County. She is committed to submitting, only in a literary capacity with light-hearted yet dark creative non-fiction, fiction, and poetry.

A WWS Publication Roundup for May

A laptop computer with an article titled "Submissions Made Simple" on the screen and a stack of literary journals sits on top of the laptop base, titles facing out

April showers bring May flowers…and WWS publications! Congratulations to all the Women Who Submit who had work published in May.

From Anita Gill‘s review of Debra Gwartney’s I’m a Stranger Here Myself at Brevity:

Gwartney’s second book veers from the traditional structure of memoir, using a lesser-known historical event as a springboard for her own personal narrative. In I Am a Stranger Here Myself, Gwartney juxtaposes her memories with the story of Narcissa Whitman, one of the first white women settlers to journey westward. This genre-bending manuscript won the 2018 River Teeth Nonfiction Prize and publication this past March.

From “Marvels of Representation” by Ryane Nicole Granados at LA Parent:

While they are 5 1/2 years apart in age and are opposites in many ways, one thing my sons have in common is that they have struggled to find toys – in particular, superheroes – that look like them.

From “The Quiet on the Other Side” by Hazel Kight Witham at Mutha Magazine:

The quiet stops when they call my name from the waiting room at Labor and Delivery. I open my eyes, balance my six-month baby belly in my arms as I shift to standing. I need a quick check in, a blood pressure reading, some reassurance. I am not here to labor or deliver.

From Mia Nakaji Monnier‘s “Kokoro Yasume” at Longreads:

I inherited the porcelain ghosts from my neighbor Amy, whose parents’ house was filled to capacity with everything from shrimp figurines to polished-wood Noh masks. After her mother died and before the estate sale crew swept through the house, I walked the rooms with Amy, cataloging the contents of cabinets, sorting documents from recyclables. “If something like that catches your eye, take it,” she said about the ghost dolls. “I don’t want to see them becoming someone’s Oriental tchotchkes.”

From Carla Sameth‘s “Mother’s Day Triptych” at Mutha Magazine:

The picture is of my son, Raphael, as a newborn. The bright royal blue color of the onesie complements his looks. Like now, his look is racially and culturally ambiguous, similar to the rest of our family. His eyes dark-dark almost black, his hair barely curly, brownish, which will get darker and thicker and curlier as he grows. At birth, there is a bit of blond. Like me. For a second. Family lore has it that my mom called out when I was born, “Oh my God, the Milkman, a blond” in a family of dark haired olive skinned people.

From Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo‘s “Invisible No More: How ‘Fade Into You’ Reflects the L.A. Chicanx Experience” at Los Angeles Review of Books:

In an interview with the popular feminist podcast Call Your Girlfriend, Darling said she named her character Nikki because “being in the interiority of a teenage girl is not something readers are always familiar with.” InFade Into You, Darling gives us more than an intimate view of a teenage girl; she gives us an intimate view of a young, mixed-race Chicana living in the suburbs of Los Angeles, the kind of portrait that is nearly nonexistent in L.A. letters.

Also from Xochitl, “Kenji Liu Is Using Frankenstein as a Metaphor for Toxic Masculinity” at bitch:

Much of the work in Monsters I Have Been is what Liu calls “Frankenpo,” a style of his own creation that chops and mixes multiple texts into one body. The poem “Stomach me, delicious world” is a Frankenpo, and according to Liu’s notes at the back of the book, combines “the screenplay of Wong Kar-Wai’s Happy Together (1997) + screenplay of Alice Wu’s Saving Face (2004) + article ‘Confucius on Gay Marriage’ in the Diplomat + New York Times article ‘Court in Hong Kong Invalidates Antisodomy Law from British Era.’”

From Désirée Zamorano‘s “Much More to Investigate” at Los Angeles Review of Books:

From the opening pages of Miracle Creek, Angie Kim creates an intense atmosphere of foreboding and suspense, building swiftly to the event that triggers the rest of her debut novel, unraveling so many lives and lies.

From Rachael Rifkin‘s “How to Honor a Loved One’s Memory” at nextavenue:

When my mom passed away, having established guidelines for my early grieving process was a relief, giving me concrete steps to take and tasks to do. Several years on, my grief is different — less sharp, but still punctuated with unexpected moments and feelings that catch me off guard. I’ve found myself wishing for more traditions and rituals for this stage, and more opportunities to remember and celebrate her life.

Also from Rachael, “29 Siblings and Counting” at 23andMe:

Shauna tested to learn more about her health history, and found herself instead in the middle of the plot of a movie (The Delivery Man, to be exact). Thoughts about potential susceptibilities to diseases receded as she discovered first one, then eight, and now at least 29 donor siblings.

As someone who grew up as an only child and really owned that identity, receiving an email that began “It looks like we are related” was pretty disorienting.

Congratulations to Minal Hajratwala whose poem, “new world literature, or, we’ll be together in the end,” was published in WSQ: Asian Diasporas! Minal also won residencies at Pond Farm and Clarion West workshops.

Congratulations to Tanya Ko Hong whose poems, “The Cost of Breath,” “Confronting My Father’s Mistress,” and “Journey” were published in Women’s Studies Quarterly! From “The Cost of Breath:”

Talk about the wood
stacked high in the living room
what it costs
to breathe in my home—
raw wood, oak
so long and thick—
a dead elephant stretched wall to wall