The WWS members included in this post published their work in amazing places during the month of June 2023. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available) or a blurb (if available) if the publication is a book, along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in June 2023!
Continue reading “June 2023 Publication Roundup”
by Rosalinda Alcala
Returning to writing seemed an insurmountable task, even with my abundant energy and my supportive husband. My twitch to write began somewhere between my children’s childhood and adolescence. Writing became my obsession in spare moments between the bedtime stories and the adolescent struggle for independence. Online spaces fit my busy lifestyle by providing rabbit holes of information and a burrow of my own.
I loved spending time with my children. Meanwhile balancing laundry, meals, and homework created a fog. In a parallel universe, I was devoted to creating and executing lessons for students. I was giving of myself. My time. My heart. In time, my soul craved a creative outlet. An expression in art.
In the classroom, writing was a trouble spot for my then sixth graders. So, I began searching for lessons outside our curriculum. My keystrokes for writing lessons opened a world of rabbit holes. An endless freefall. One article led to another. Then triplicate. Down I spiraled.
The free fall increased with each click. I grabbed and pulled at roots during my downward spiral until I landed firmly in the Writer’s Digest world. Like any good rabbit, all twitching aside, I was careful to examine my surroundings. Carrot seeds in the form of books dotted my underground burrow with promises: how to write a better novel, character development, and setting.
In the Writer’s Digest burrow, I took my first online writing class. One on character development. The instructor’s comments were so gentle, yet filled with savvy writerly advice. She provided beginning seeds of character, novel growth, and development. My high school newspaper writing days were decades in the past and I was now writing fiction–she fit my needs.
The experience provided me with so much confidence that I began writing the next great novel. One hundred pages later, I discovered information on common beginner mistakes. I made every-one.
I scratched out a new journey. Yet comparable to visiting a former neighborhood, I would return to the Writer’s Digest burrow for an occasional class or webinar.
Soon, I pulled back the spiny roots for a better view of the other tunnels and burrows. I considered an MFA, but some universities prohibited employment while enrolled in their program. Local commuter schools offered MFA programs without employment requirements. When I considered my predawn wake up, my children’s activities, my husband’s work schedule and our cooking–the thought of driving even fifteen minutes tired me. In the end, I couldn’t justify the cost or time. I tunneled through the universities, clicking and scratching.
Soon I found the perfect burrow, UCLA Extension. The program offers online writing certificates taught by published instructors. My classes taught conflict, novel elements, structure, and provided workshops. Graduating from the certificate program was bittersweet because I had left built in friendships and critique partners. Once again, I was on my own and I missed the comradery and comments from classmates about something writing related.
I worked on my novel or wrote short stories in bursts. My work remained on my desktop for months. Occasionally, I returned to the stories between life. One day during my time exploring new rabbit holes, I discovered Women Who Submit. I became a member while the pandemic still loomed and met with the Long Beach chapter virtually. Conversations entailed literary magazines, novel releases, and readings. The ladies in my chapter also suggested specific literary magazines for my stories. Upon further digging, I realized some of my amazing UCLA instructors inhabited this burrow. I had found my people.
As the world reopened from the Pandemic, I kept my predawn rising ritual to write before my students stumbled into my classroom. Weekends were filled with our children’s sports and my own workouts. At times, I would pop into Zoom meetings with Women Who Submit in my workout gear with my nose twitching, ready to visit and write. In this burrow, I have harvested the carrots of publication and workshop acceptance. Once again, despite my full life, a virtual burrow allowed me to find a writing community and flourish.
Rosalinda lives with her husband and two teenagers. A family of cottontails live in a burrow among the backyard flowers. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t pose for a photo. Rosalinda’s home is located where suburbia kisses the chaparral trails.
The WWS members included in this post published their work in amazing places during the month of May 2023. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available) or a blurb (if available) if the publication is a book, along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in May 2023!
Continue reading “May 2023 Publication Roundup”
by Ashton Cynthia Clarke
As an Afro-Caribbean myself (first generation raised in the USA of Jamaican immigrant parents), I have some second-hand knowledge of the creolization of traditional African religions with the Christianity of colonizers. The slaves of British-held Jamaica embraced obeah; Santería practice flourished in the Spanish colonies; and French-held Haiti birthed Vodou (voodoo).
My mother was brought up Protestant and covered me in the Episcopal church from infant baptism until I left for college. Nevertheless, I would lay wide-eyed in bed after Mommy’s stories of naughty or even malevolent duppies (spirits) who blocked her path on the dark roads of northern Jamaica when she was a teen.
So, I was excited yet anxious to view “Myrlande Constant: The Work of Radiance” at The Fowler Museum at UCLA. What I did not expect was the overwhelming sense of belonging and possession I felt, surrounded by the luminous work of this artist whose Haitian ancestry is cousin to mine.
Myrlande Constant was born in 1968 in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. She is married and the mother of four; a photograph in the vestibule of the exhibit depicts two of her children intently engaged in bead work in Constant’s studio. She acknowledges her own mother as her primary artistic and spiritual influence. Constant learned the craft from her mother, who worked in a Port-au-Prince factory making beaded wedding dresses.
Drapo Vodou or “Voodoo Flag” are traditionally the work of practicing Vodou priests and their followers. They are displayed in Vodou sanctuaries and carried at ceremonies. While this is the art form that spawned Constant’s career, she introduced techniques such as stretching the fabric taut on a frame, employing a “tanbou stitch” (drum stitch), and substituting beads for the traditionally used sequins. These innovations have allowed for greater detail, enhanced color, perspective, and dimension in Constant’s pieces.
* * *
The wide-open doors at the entrance of the J. Paul Getty Trust Gallery served to frame the single rectangular piece that dominated a wall at the far end of the room. At that distance, I could only make out some splashes of color and the light that seemed to emanate from within the soul of the artwork itself. Counting steps as I went (6, 7, 8, 9 . . .), I felt pulled along—gently, but still pulled—towards the light which became more concentrated, absorbing and reflecting colors as I walked. I imagined this being as moving and tranquil as that “bright light” reported by people who had near-death experiences. Silly, huh?
As the drapo Vodou loomed larger and more defined (still counting 18, 19, 20, 21), I began to discern multiple figures. Thirty-four steps and I was close enough to identify the stitches and individual beads that created swaths of color and three-dimensionality on this flag, which was about five feet wide. The name of the piece: “Union des Esprits Sirenes,” a dark-skinned queen holding court amid spirits, sea creatures, musical instruments, and an inviting feast.
* * *
Before Constant began her artistic career, men had dominated the commercial flag-making field. She was the first female textile artist to open a workshop and the first to gain international recognition for her work.
Her beaded works are much heavier and larger than traditional sequined banners and they are often collected solely as art pieces. Still, the pieces depict the classic subjects of Vodou flags: Bondye (Creator/God), the lwa or loa (ancestral spirit), and vévé (symbol or image of the lwa). Vodouists believe that over a thousand lwa exist; one-fourth of them are named.
Each lwa has its own personality and is associated with specific colors, objects, food, chants, and drumbeats. It is believed that the interaction of lwa and vévés must be thoroughly and carefully considered by the artist. The religion and its rules must be observed as they can directly impact reality. Constant received advanced education in this area from her father, a Vodoun priest.
In “Milocan Tous les Saints Tous les Morts,” lwa fly overhead, involved in the day-to-day lives of the people. A Vodou flag, depicted front and center, features a prominent display of a vévé at the top of the flag.
Many of the lwa are equated with specific Roman Catholic saints based on similar characteristics or symbols. Similarly, a Jamaican obeahman or obeahwoman may summon spirits likened to the prophet Jeremiah or the apostle Peter. Hence, the fusion of these diverse religious beliefs; i.e., syncretism and/or creolization.
Vodouists were involved in the Haitian Revolution of 1791 to 1801, which overthrew the French colonial government, abolished slavery, and transformed the French-held island into the republic of Haiti. In later years, from 1835 to 1987, the Haitian government banned Vodou under laws that prohibited ritualistic practices (“Haitian Vodou,” Wikipedia).
Obeah became a crime for the first time because of a 1760 Jamaican law intended to prevent rebellions by slaves. The law was the Jamaican planters’ response to the biggest slave rebellion that took place in the eighteenth-century British Caribbean, which came to be known as Tacky’s Rebellion (Obeahhistories.org).
Vodou, like obeah, is practiced for healing, protection, and in some cases, to do harm. Unlike Jamaica, Haiti as a country seems to find no conflict between the Catholic faith and Vodou practice. In the video presentation accompanying the exhibit, Constant does state that she personally is no longer a working practitioner of Vodou, although she still holds the beliefs.
To this day, Jamaicans have an uneasy relationship with their spiritual folk practice. The 1898 Obeah Act outlawing the practice is still on the books, although rarely enforced ( (Obeahhistories.org). In this beautiful work, “Negre Danbala Wedo,” a healer administers a ceremony of curing and spiritual nourishment. I was transfixed. I remembered my mother.
* * *
One sunny afternoon, my Protestant mother rode the subway to Brooklyn to secretly consult a Jamaican obeahwoman. I say “secretly” because I can only imagine the conflicting feelings she had as a church-going believer in Christ. But Mommy was desperate. She had been suffering for years with debilitating headaches. Not migraines, the medical doctors said; but none offered a definitive diagnosis or solution.
Like most obeah “readers,” the woman in Brooklyn was a skilled herbalist, known for healing physical, spiritual, and mental disorders, and for protecting against malevolent spiritual forces. The obeahwoman said there was evil directed against my mother and her sister, from their childhoods up to the present. An evil that was meant for their demise. An evil now coming from a specific individual.
Following the consultation, Mommy and my aunt steered clear of that “specific individual.” Mommy’s headaches eventually vanished.
I had moved from New York City to Los Angeles ten years earlier. Mommy never confided in me about her trips to Brooklyn. My cousin shared this truth with me years later, after my mother passed away. It saddens me that perhaps Mommy felt her only daughter was too educated, even too disdainful of her culture to be open to offerings other than “Western” medicine and religion. I like to think I would have embraced her and understood.
* * *
In her Artist’s Statement, posted in the outer area of the exhibit, Constant writes: “An ancestral heritage is an important and weighty obligation. You cannot treat your ancestors and their culture lightly. . . . I don’t always know where my inspiration comes from, but it comes naturally. . . . There are things we cannot know. You must think and reflect to understand. These are the things I feel as a woman and as an artist.”
As always, different people will each have a different take-away from a piece of art. The shimmering, vibrant color of Myrlande Constant’s drapo Vodou, the painstaking detail, the investment of time for each piece (up to six months!)—those have universal appeal. Peculiar to me are recalling my mother’s pain, feeling ripped from my past by the crime of slavery, but somehow being soothed by an unexpected attachment to the Haitian lwa in Constant’s work. I believe you’ll enjoy something peculiar to you in “Myrlande Constant: The Work of Radiance.”
“Myrlande Constant: The Work of Radiance” will be on exhibit at The Fowler Museum at UCLA through July 16, 2023. Constant is the first Haitian woman to have a solo museum show in the U.S.
Biographical information on Constant and the drapo-making process gleaned from her website and Indigo Arts.
Ashton Cynthia Clarke is an African American/Afro-Caribbean, Los Angeles-based storyteller and writer of creative non-fiction. She has work published or forthcoming in The Storytelling Bistro, Olney Magazine, and Inlandia. Ashton has performed her true, personal stories on stages throughout the L.A. area and New York City, as well as virtually. She thanks Lisbeth Coiman for introducing her to Women Who Submit.
Instagram: @ashton.c.clarke
The WWS members included in this post published their work in amazing places during the month of April 2023. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available) or a blurb (if available) if the publication is a book, along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in April 2023!
Continue reading “April 2023 Publication Roundup”
by Erica Frederick
Originally published March 10, 2023 in Salt Hill Journal
Yvette Lisa Ndlovu’s debut short story collection, Drinking from Graveyard Wells, glimpses into the lives of African women, be they goddesses or ghosts, broke college student or town gossip. This is a collection of blood-boiling big ideas, asking: what if life and death are simply unfair? What if the white boy gets to become a millionaire by building a rideshare app based on Zimbabwean customs? What if the patriarchy persists, even in the afterlife? Ndlovu, a real-life sarungano, writes to make us rage right alongside the women in these stories while still insisting that the lessons we learn from storytelling are remedies, but not in the way we might expect.
A real triumph and delight of Drinking from Graveyard Wells lies in its fearless condemnation of the powers that be—even the gods themselves. “When Death Comes to Find You” envisions a capitalist hellscape: a world where debt in life transcends to debt in death and diamond miners must participate in an immortal toil. The story asserts that “even the afterlife is made for the rich.” In “The Soul Would Have No Rainbow,” a granddaughter receives a letter from her late grandmother revealing that “in the heavens all the gods were arrogant bastards.” Ndlovu forces us to reckon with the possibility of cosmic inequity, that omnipotent power still corrupts.
Despite the seemingly hopeless conception of an unjust afterlife, Ndlovu does seem to offer up the antidote. “The Carnivore’s Lollipop” introduces us to ngano, fables and fairytales from the Shona tradition that, in this collection, often work as warnings of divine justice.
Ngano about reparations are interspersed throughout this story as the narrator is duped into a multi-level marketing scheme, buying and breeding boxes of ants to sell back to a drug company. When the company gets dissolved by the CEO, we realize what reparations look like when people who are in possession of ants (raised on a carnivore diet) decide to show up to the protest. So often, marginalized people are asked to turn the other cheek in the face of injustice. But, in these stories, Ndlovu offers an alternate solution: revenge. In “Red Cloth, White Giraffe,” a woman must remain on earth until her former husband pays off the rest of her bride price to the men in her family. The threat on the other side of this is that the woman might become a ngozi, an avenging spirit, capable of levying a visceral justice.
In “Plumtree: True Stories,” we receive a series of vignettes, many of which introduce new iterations of ngano and Black spirituality. The title reads as a radical act, casting Black spirit as true, as fact, and as essential, placing Ndlovu firmly in the midst of Black writers like Akwaeke Emezi and others whose work gives credence to the divine.
Drinking from Graveyard Wells explores what it means to grapple with those in power by allowing us to imagine the gods as absolute bastards. The collection insists, too, that storytelling and oral histories serve as reminders that justice isn’t freely given, it’s taken. Kicking and screaming, Ndlovu’s debut collection demands to be seen.
Erica Frederick is a queer, Haitian American writer and MFA candidate in fiction at Syracuse University. She currently serves as the fiction coordinator for The Best of the Net Anthology. Her work has appeared in Split Lip Magazine and was selected for Best Microfiction 2023. You can find her work at ericafrederick.com.
by Gina Duran
“For me, forgiveness and compassion are always linked: how do we hold people accountable for wrongdoing and yet at the same time remain in touch with their humanity enough to believe in their capacity to be transformed?” –bell hooks
I found myself sinking heart deep in spongy popping popcorn ball snow flaking hail. I had already dug my car out the day before giving me a false sense of security and freedom. But in just 1.5 hours the sudden downfall of the blizzard completely smothered my story of escape, like whiteout.
I came to the conclusion that moving to the mountains would help mend the folds and tears of my fragile onion skinned heart of the past 10 years, and that writing environmental poetry would help me do it. I wanted to let go of unrequited love and putting my hands in soil helped, being amongst the trees brought the blizzard inside me to a sullen whisper, and the acappella of birds delivered a soulful melody. I had finally found home.
The only other time I felt like home was in my presence was when I swore I felt true love for the first time. I called this woman Mon Cœur. I know this time it’s that I finally feel connected to the earth. Trees and plants release volatile gasses and phytoncides to prevent rot, which are beneficial to humans. Just looking at trees helps calm the nervous system. In a May 16, 2016, article of Psychology Today, Richard E. Cytowic M.D. explained, “New studies suggest that viewing even an image of a tree or a forest canopy bolsters the parasympathetic division of the central nervous system that naturally induces calm.”
The fact that I ended up owning 300 plus potted plants was because of the theory that soil contains fungi, which helps decrease depression when released into the air when dug up. So, rest assured you could find me barefoot in the rain making mud pies next to my serrano and habanero plants. (Hey, a good mud tea party with a canine companion can do wonders.) So, when the blizzard first rushed through our small San Bernardino mountain town, I wasn’t devastated or smacked with fear. I decided I would cool my sympathetic nervous system in the snow, easing my anxious nerves. Living on my own was rather soothing—until I was trapped inside. The plan was to hike, take photos of the garbage left by callous tourists, and take notes—not write about a natural disaster. But global warming had its own plans.
The week before, I was diving backwards into four feet of snow, making a snow angel in front of my downstairs neighbor’s door. “You are definitely a California girl,” she laughed , directing her comment towards my pink shorts and wet hair. Yes, I am. Typical warm blooded Southern California Latine, diving into the snow like a 10-year-old girl in my shorts. As if I had never seen snow.
But today I got news that our only grocery store, Goodwin’s roof caved in. Just after our only hardware store’s roof caved in. The women in the parking lot next to ours were now waiting anxiously for a snowplow. (I wanted to escape with them.) They were digging and planning. They said I could join them, pets, and all. Then they told me that one of the houses caught fire. The fire department thought it might be electrical. Apparently, a tree took out several peoples’ electricity too. The women were rushing. They didn’t even know if the highway was open yet.
No grocery store, no food, no hardware store, no shovels, closed roads, caved in roofs, fires, electrical outages…all signs of a state of emergency. Chances of death increased greatly.
Suddenly, hail began to smother the black asphalt. Clinging to my black hair like sticky styrofoam balls. I needed to grab food. I kept losing cell reception, but I looked and saw my phone was working, so I called to send my love to my friends and my son. In that moment, I didn’t know if I would ever get off the mountain. My plan was to have food and a shovel and connect with the community to devise a plan for escape. My parents would say something about “piss poor planning” and the importance of having multiple plans, but as I walked to the store I had to relieve myself of my doubts and fears so they wouldn’t muddle my plans for survival. I told the one I used to call Mon Cœur that in case I died…she interrupted me. You’re not going to die. She didn’t want to hear how proud I was of her or that she was a good friend… She wasn’t ready for that call. I could hear it in the silence—between her words. Like the trees, she says a lot without words. I told her I would do whatever I needed to do to survive now. I told her all I needed was my shovel. I told her I would not ride with the women . Though they would most likely make it down the mountain without me, they seemed unsure about my animals and asked if they would pee in the car. I wouldn’t leave without my fur babies. I also didn’t know how long they planned on waiting in the blizzard for the road to open.
When I returned home, my car was almost completely inundated by 6-foot walls of snow. I called my son as I ran up the mounds and began stomping and compressing the snow to make a platform to reach my snow-covered roof. I began crying and telling him how proud he made me and to never give up. I wanted him to know I would never give up. I sliced snow from the roof of my car with my arm. He told me I was going to be okay, and I didn’t need to tell him these things because the storm would be over soon. I told him I loved him and that I knew it wasn’t over for me, but it was still important to let him know, because life is uncertain. Then we hung up. I wasn’t going to let me or my car get swallowed up.
I fell chest deep into the snow and I became enraged. “F this.” I growled. If I fell in deeper the snow would devour me, so I started slamming my arms down to compact the snow and pulled myself up. Then I began stomping my feet, creating a platform from the inside of the mound. I dragged my body out and pushed snow from the hood of my car into the holes—compacting it like it was the enemy.
I began punching and cursing at the snow. I couldn’t help but envision Lieutenant Dan, in Forrest Gump, raging against the storm. For once I stopped caring if anyone was watching.
When will my storm ever clear? I thought. I wanted to shred the snow with my bare hands. I cried and flailed my arms, thinking of everything that I had to release in my life. Suddenly, the roof was cleared, so I slid down the heap of snow and ran hip deep to the shovel resting against the building. I didn’t know if I would ever run out of rage. Rage for the way I am treated as a queer person. Rage for the way I was treated for being an Indigenous Latine. Rage for being gossiped about. Rage for being abused. Rage for being homeless. Rage for finally finding a home but meeting the wrath of God on the side of a mountain.
I dug myself out of my snow rift of sorrow. The hail turned into snowflakes. I puffed like a bull and trudged my way back upstairs. I would change my wet clothes, eat, and come back to shovel more later. And when I did, the snow stopped. I looked up directly at the sun and saw its rays beaming brightly on my car—bouncing off snow—burning my face. The storm was calm now.
I managed to move snow that gathered around my car and freed the street under my tires in 80 minutes. Tomorrow will be easier, I said to myself. And it was. People in the complex came out and started to help clear icicles and the trash can, while I cleared space for a walkway and an escape.
The National Guard flew overhead but never stopped to aid people in Crestline. That was infuriating. I found out later that they gave aid to Mammoth. It turns out everyone was feeling the complexity of emotions I had been. Afterwards, I dug a path for some of the elders in the community, while my neighbor watched, smoked a cigarette, and flirted with me. I was not interested. Anger from his laziness fueled me more. My parents would have told me to rest later because you must always give 110 percent. Then I would snapback, that is 100 percent. I told myself that anger wasn’t for my neighbor; it was for the extra 10 percent I could never give. My mother taught me to never depend on a man, so I was prepared to dig on my own. I looked at him and said It’s okay, I’m fine on my own. I went numb and dug. One of the women paid me in gratitude, so I no longer cared about the guy. Meanwhile, Goodwin’s did a food drop off to feed the community—including those who could traverse the snow from neighboring cities. People stood in a long line of the Goodwin’s parking lot—with the collapsed roof dancing in the store windows as a backdrop. I decided to wait till Friday for my food pickup.
That Saturday a plow came through and my friends in the neighborhood and I dug through the berm with determination as a team—stabbing through the ice sealed road with our shovels—we freed our cars. Then I grabbed all of my animals like I was escaping a fire and I freed them and myself from the mountain.
I didn’t die on the mountain, I freed myself. I freed myself of the rage and insecurities of what people thought of me. I forgave my parents for pushing me to survive. Instead, I’m grateful for the knowledge they passed onto me.
As I drove down the mountain, I saw the gleam of the glowing sun reflecting along the melting ice of black road and flickering amongst the green sprigs of foliage shading the face of the mountain, and I was grateful for its sublime poetry.
Gina Duran founded IE Hope Collective, which provides workshops for marginalized youth. She was Editor of Boundless 2022: VIPF, and hosts The Collective on KQBH. Her book “…and so, the Wind was Born,” with FlowerSong Press is a part of the Her Story Mixed Tape collection, at the Autry Museum.
The end of a wet and wild March is upon us, which means it’s time to celebrate the hardworking Women Who Submit members who have published their work.
The WWS members included in this post published their work during the month of March. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available) or a blurb (if available) if the publication is a book, along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in March!
Continue reading “March 2023 Publication Roundup”
By Cecilia Caballero
Dear Beginner Writer,
It’s never too early to think about creating a marketing plan, but how to begin? Although learning about marketing can initially feel overwhelming, this blog will empower you to set your literary career up for success by creating a simple marketing plan in three easy steps using no and low-cost strategies and tools. In light of the historical and ongoing racial and gender disparities in publishing, it is more important than ever to create your own system of success.
What are your short and long-term writer goals? Which genre(s) do you write? Which literary venues do you want to publish your work in? Are you planning on writing a book or multiple books? Do you want to self-publish or go with an indie or traditional press? What are your dream fellowships, grants, and residencies? Also, consider how your values (such as community-building, social justice, feminism, anti-racism, etc) inform your writer goals.
Identifying your writer goals and values is an empowering process because you will gain clarity on how YOU define success for yourself versus basing your worth as a writer solely on external forms of validation. And, knowing your writer goals and values will also determine your specific marketing strategy.
An example of a SMART marketing goal can be posting about your writing twice per week on social media. Additional examples of SMART marketing goals can include creating or updating your author website by a certain deadline or aiming to do writer podcasts/interviews once per month.
Tracking your progress also helps you to determine whether or not you are achieving your goals. And if you find that you’re not meeting your goals, there is no need to shame or criticize yourself. Instead, you can give yourself credit for learning a new skill. ANd then, whenever you are ready, you can take action by modifying your SMART goals. For example, instead of posting about your writing twice per week, perhaps posting once a week works better for you.
Alternatively, an author newsletter gives you 100% ownership of your email list and it is the most direct way to communicate with your supporters outside of social media. There are both free and paid newsletter providers to choose from, such as Mailchimp, Substack, ConvertKit, and more. And, with consistent action over time, more and more folks will naturally join your newsletter.
Beginner writer, remember, it’s courageous to show yourself and your art to the world. Take risks, don’t be afraid to fail, and try again. I strongly believe that writers should be celebrated for their art, and marketing is just another tool that can help us achieve that goal. I’m rooting for you!
With love,
Cecilia
Based in LA, Cecilia Caballero, PhD, is a poet, creative nonfiction writer, teaching artist, and co-editor of The Chicana Motherwork Anthology. She is an alum of Tin House, Macondo, and Roots. Wounds. Words. Cecilia is a 2023 Aspen Words Emerging Writer Fellow and she is finishing a memoir. Twitter: @la_sangre_llama.
The Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP) Conference is just days away. People may have even started packing and scrolling Yelp for the best Seattle eats. Whether you go to the AWP Conference to promote your latest title, to catch up with friends, or to fangirl on your favorite author, between the panels, bookfair, and evening events there is enough for everyone. And if you’re like us and get overwhelmed by too many options, let WWS help you narrow down where to spend your time and money. Below is a list of events where you can find WWS members and some of our allies. Stop by one of these places and say hi!
THURSDAY, MARCH 9
PANEL: Too Small to Fail: The Indie Press Prerogative in Advancing Diverse Voices
10:35 AM – 11:50 AM
Rooms 431-432, Summit Building, Seattle Convention Center, Level 4
Panelists: Krishna Narayanamurti, Marcus Clayton, Viva Padilla, AJ Urquidi, Amanda Orozco
Description: The Western US is one of the world’s most diverse regions, but the literary scene remains a “mainly white room.” In what ways is it the duty of West Coast indie journals and micro presses to find and publish writing that upends the norms of institutional gatekeeping? LA-based editors from sin cesar (formerly Dryland) and Indicia discuss their experiments with equity, intersectionality, and digital collaboration to publish crucial work that challenges hidden biases of audiences and the editors themselves.
PANEL: Demystifying the Application: Fellowships, Residencies and Grants
12:10 PM – 1:25 PM
Signature Room, Summit Building, Seattle Convention Center, Level 5
Panelists: Julayne Lee, Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo, Angela Franklin, Janice Sapigao, Amanda Galvan Huynh
Description: Have you ever applied for a fellowship, residency, or grant and wondered if your application has what it takes to be a top contender? This is a rare chance to hear from a diverse group of authors who’ve served on selection committees for state and national grants as well as fellowships and residencies. You will gain a better understanding of what judges are looking for, what goes into the selection process and how you might identify which fellowships, residencies, and grants are the best fit.
PANEL: Minding the Gaps and Mining Landscape in Linked Short Story Collections
1:45 PM – 3:00 PM
Rooms 343-344, Summit Building, Seattle Convention Center, Level 3
Panelists: Toni Ann Johnson, Ramona Reeves, Rion Amilcar Scott, Leslie Pietryzk
Descrition: Linked short story collections have become more popular, perhaps in part because of their hybrid nature. They can employ recurring themes, characters, and settings to situate readers in worlds that move beyond the borders of many short stories while stopping short of the breadth and propulsion of a novel. Minding the gaps, or the spaces, is key in writing linked story collections. How does space function between and within linked collections, and what stories does one choose to tell and why?
READING: WWS Happy Hour & Community Mic Hosted by Noriko Nakada
4:00 PM – 6:00 PM
Clock-Out Lounge: 4864 Beacon Ave S, Seattle, WA 98108
Features: Suhasini Yeeda, Carla Sameth, Elizabeth Galoozis, Jamie Asaye Fitzgerald, Sakae Manning, Alixen Pham, Maria Caponi, Michelle Otero, Amy Shimhon-Santo, Jane Muschenetz.
READING: Storyknife AWP Reading & Gathering
5-7 pm
Vermillion Gallery & Bar, 1508 11th Ave
Features: Rowena Alegria, Jasmin An, Sandra Beasley, Jan Beatty, Kim Blaeser, Ching-in Chen, Lydia Conklin, Rebeca Flores, Minda Honey, Amanda Galvan Huynh, Casandra Lopez, Zenique Gardner Perry and others.
READING: #AWPSeattle Off-site Reading
6 pm
Seattle Public Library
Description: Join Veliz Books, Noemi Press, and BOA Editions at the beautiful Seattle Public Library for an in-person reading featuring 10 writers.
READING: Queerly Beloved: An Evening with Foglifter Press
7:00 PM
Corvus and Company, 601 Broadway E, Seattle, WA 98102, USA
ASL interpretation and live-streaming provided
Features: Michal ‘MJ’ Jones, author of HOOD VACATIONS, Joy Priest, author of HORSEPOWER, Miah Jeffra, author of American Gospel, Kazim Ali, author of Inquisition, Dior Stephens, author of CRUEL/CRUEL, Xan Phillips, author of Hull
READING: Nightboat Books Reading
9:00 PM
The Rendezvous Theatre: 2322 2nd Ave, Seattle, WA 98121
Features: Allison Cobb, Andrew Abi-Karam, Dior J. Stephens, Douglas A. Martin, Emily Lee Luan, Gillian Conoley, Gillian Osborne, imogen xtian smith, Janice Lobo Sapigao, Joyelle McSweeney, Kay Gabrial, Kevin Holden, Lindsay Turner, Ronaldo V. Wilson, Rosie Stockton, Samiya Bashir, Tiff Dressen, Wo Chan
FRIDAY, MARCH 10
Panel: Inlandia social justice literature reading
10:35 AM – 11:45 AM
Bookfair Stage, Sponsored by the Dramatists Guild, Exhibit Hall 1 & 2, Summit Building
Panelists: Nikia Chaney, James Coats, Stephanie Barbé Hammer, Juanita E. Mantz, & Cati Porter
Description: Inland Southern California, aka Inlandia, is a sprawling geographic region, the logistics capital of the west, and one of the few majority-minority regions. As writers, we have a responsibility to take an active role in addressing the most pressing social justice issues of our time. Listen to works confronting issues of LBTQ rights, racial inequities, the criminal injustice system, mental health discrimination, and more.
BOOK SIGNING: Imagine Us, The Swarm with Muriel Leung
12 PM PST
Nightboat Books Table: 1024
PANEL: Languages of Belonging: Transcending Borders in Life and on the Page
1:45 PM – 3:00 PM
443-444, Summit Building, Seattle Convention Center, Level 4
Panelists: Sehba Sarwar, Torsa Ghosal, Emmy Pérez, Tameka Latrece Cage Conley, Gemini Wahhaj
Description: Five women writers of color incorporate personal and global histories—of India, Pakistan, and the Netherlands, and within the U.S., California, Louisiana, and the Texas-Mexico border—into their prose, poetry, and hybrid texts. Each writer will discuss her process of transcending literal and figurative borders separating nations, generations, and identities. How do we resolve the conflicts that arise from having histories in multiple places? Where are we traveling from and to in our writing?
PANEL: Writing the Land: Inspiration and Perspiration to Create Poetry
1:45 PM – 3:00 PM
Room 337, Summit Building, Seattle Convention Center, Level 3
Panelists: Catalina Marie Cantú, Erica Reid, Leona Sevick, Diana Raptosh, CMarie Fuhrman
Description: What if you were paired with a conserved land for a year to visit and create three poems inspired by place and preservation? In this panel, five diverse, emerging, and established poets from east, central, and northwest regions will share their writing process and poems. Their protected lands ranged from protected habitats, sanctuaries, farms, and ranches, to ecosystems and wilderness preserves. Their poetry and the methodologies used to create their poems will challenge and inspire you.
PANEL: BIPOC Women/Nonbinary Writers Cultivating Community and Safe Writing Spaces
1:45 PM – 3:00 PM
Seattle Convention Center, Level 3, Room 327
Panelists: Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo (she/her), Janaka Bowman Lewis, PhD (she/her), LaCoya Katoe Gessesse (she/her), and Mahtem Shiferraw (she/her), Sakae Manning (they/them)
Description: Panelists share modes and methods towards creating safe space through considering intention as liberatory groundwork for BIPOC women and nonbinary writers, creating intersectional spaces beyond physical boundaries, identifying and becoming part of a writing community, and understanding how intergenerational racial and gender-based trauma impacts amplifying our own work. Join Janaka Bowman-Lewis, PhD, LaCoya Katoe Gessesse, and Mahtem Shiferraw, as we navigate writing and sustaining writing communities.
READING: Feminist Press Presents: Readings by Louise Meriwether First Book Prize Winners
3:20 PM – 4:35 PM
Room 430, Summit Building, Seattle Convention Center, Level 4
Panelists: YZ Chin, Cassandra Lane, Claudia D. Hernández, Melissa Valentine, Annell Lopez
Description: The Louise Meriwether First Book Prize seeks to honor the groundbreaking legacy of Meriwether’s Daddy Was a Number Runner by creating debut publication opportunities for women and nonbinary authors of color. The 2022 winner of the prize will be joined by past winners YZ Chin, Claudia D. Hernández, Melissa Valentine, and Cassandra Lane to read from their work, including a reading from the 2022 Prize winner’s manuscript in progress.
READING: Macondo Writers Meetup & Readings
5:00 PM – 7:00 PM
Anxestral Gallery, 1302 5th Ave, Seattle, WA 98101
READING: Antioch’s MFA: A Night of Reading Hosted by Tim Cummings
5:30 PM – 7:30 PM
Graduate Hotel: 4507 Brooklyn Ave NE, Seattle, WA 98105
Features: Jazmine Aluma, Andrea Auten, Semaj Saint Garbutt, Guadalupe Garcia McCall, Diana Hardy, Scott LaMascus, Malia Márquez, Ari Rosenschein, Kim Sabin, Mireya Vela
READING: Anaphora Arts & Pacific University Oregon Reading
6:00 PM – 8:00 PM
Little Saigon Creative, 1227 S. Weller St, Suite A, Seattle, WA 98144
Reading: Sundress Publications Reading
7:00 PM – 9:00 PM
Old Stove Brewing Co 600 W. Nickerson St. Queen Anne Seattle, WA 98119
Features: Barbara Fant, Kimberly Ann Priest, Stacey Balkun, Atena Nassar, jason b. Crawford, Sunni Wilkinson, Nicole Arocho Hernández, Amanda Galvan Huynh, Cynthia Guardado, Dani Putney, Donna Vorreyer
READING: Texas Review/DIAGRAM/Apogee Reading
7:30 PM
Alley Mic: 1922 Post Alley, Seattle, WA 98101
Features: Katie Jean Shinkle, Ginger Ko, PJ Carlisle, Ander Monson featuring Ananda Lima, Bryan Byrdlong, Angela Penaredondo, Mihee Kim, Tim Jones-Yelvington, Caridad Moro-Gronlier, Kanika Agrawal, Elizabeth Gonzales James, Danielle Pafunda, Jennifer Sperry Steinorth, Dao Strom, Eric Burger, and more.
READING: AWP ’23 Offsite: Coffee House Press, Feminist Press, and The Rumpus
7:30 PM – 10:00 PM PST
Structure Cellars 3861 1st Avenue South Seattle, WA 98134
$14.88 – $23.45
Features: Courtney Faye Taylor (CONCENTRATE), Eleni Sikelianos (YOUR KINGDOM, WHAT I KNEW, MAKE YOURSELF HAPPY), Joe Vallese (IT CAME FROM THE CLOSET), Marcelo Hernandez Castillo (CHILDREN OF THE LAND, CENZONTLE, DULCE), Tom Comitta (THE NATURE BOOK, 〇, AIRPORT NOVELLA), YZ Chin (THE AGE OF GOODBYES, EDGE CASE, THOUGH I GET HOME)
SATURDAY, MARCH 11
PANEL: Beyond Writing Well: Making Space for Professional Development in the Workshop
12:10 PM – 1:25 PM
Room 447-448, Summit Building, Seattle Convention Center, Level 4
Panelists: Kathie Bergquist, Sheree L. Greer, & Sarah Browning
Description: While developing writing skills is justifiably central to workshop practice, students often emerge from the workshop with little practical knowledge of the praxis and processes necessary for establishing a viable writing career. Professional development can and should be an important component of creative writing workshops. This discussion will feature strategies and exercises you can easily integrate into your workshop to better prepare your students for the professional life of a writer.
PANEL: Double-Dipping? You Bet! Promote Your Book with Short Articles and Literary Essays
12:10 PM to 1:25 PM
Rooms 431-432, Summit Building, Seattle Convention Center, Level 4
Panelists: Melissa Hart, Juanita Mantz Pelaez, George Estreich, Tanya Ward Goodman, Andrea Ross
Description: What if we told you that instead of spending thousands on a publicist, you could promote your books and find your ideal readers while building your writing portfolio and earning a paycheck? In this panel, we’ll talk about how we’ve perfected the art of identifying key themes and topics in our published books and writing about them for newspapers, magazines, and literary journals. We’ll teach you how to do the same with personal essays, book reviews, profiles, how-to pieces, and feature articles.
BOOK SIGNING: Light Skin Gone to Waste with Toni Ann Johnson
1:00 PM
University of Georgia Press: 928
PANEL: The ART of Infertility: Writing About Reproductive Choice, Loss, and Family
3:20 PM – 4:35 PM
Rooms 431-432, Summit Building, Seattle Convention Center, Level 4
Panelists: Jennifer Berney, Robin Silbergleid, Carla Sameth, Cheryl Klein, Krys Malcolm Belc
Description: How do infertility memoirs rewrite the dominant family narrative? How do they grapple with issues of gender, sexuality, race, and the body? Reading from published memoirs about infertility, miscarriage, reproductive choice, and queer family building, panelists explore the emotional, practical, and legal complexities of infertility and family building outside cisgender and heteronuclear families, such as in vitro fertilization, third party reproduction, blended families, and adoption.
TABLES
Antioch University Los Angeles – 807
Apogee Press – T1203
CALYX, Inc. – T128
Cave Canem Foundation, Inc. – 929
Feminist Press – T405
Kaya Press – 1309
Kundiman – 728
Lambda Literary – 908
Mouthfeel Press – T1122
Nightboat Books – 1024
Santa Fe Writers Project (SFWP) – 1202 (Monica Prince will be selling advanced copies of her next book, Roadmap: A Choreopoem, along with other authors. Come say hi!)
Sundress Publications – T500
University of Georgia Press – 928
World Stage Press – 1309
