Hello Write Queeners,

You never realize what you have done until you tell someone else or someone else tells the world. This morning, while getting to work on time for the first time in a while, I was checking my messages when my darling soulmate Annette messages me. She informs me that Caits, the amazing leader of the Digging Deep, Facing Self course and the #GrowFierce movement (yes, I will call it a movement) has sent out a newsletter recapping DDFS first year(this is a link..click it!). I open my e-mail and was kind of blown away. 

Why? Because of this:

I almost forgot about the e-mail I answered about what we've been up to. I'm not even sure if this is everything! So much has happened to me in all aspects of my life in the past year. DDFS has been a shining star in my life and a huge driving force. Finding a community that helps you grow and pushes you to be the best you can be can do wonders. I hope I can do that with EAT Media one day (working on it!).

So after reading the newsletter and realizing that I have also participated in most of the DDFS events and opportunities in New York and online, I did the following:

• A happy dance in my work chair.
• Messaged my soulmate (who I met through the course by the way) and pow-wowed in happiness.
• Cried happy tears (and stopped because I am at work).
• Opened up my blog to write about this.

Sometimes you have to stop and say Go Me. I'm constantly reminding myself to celebrate accomplishments because as you know if you are a writer, you're biggest critic is you.

Now before I go, I am going to take a moment to show you two more things:

My readers! Do you have any accomplishments you would like to share? We can do happy dances together!

Time to go loves, till next time!

Hello Write Queeners!

Sometimes we run into the things we need to hear the most when we least expect it.

This evening, I went to a happy hour for the younger crowd of my corporate job. I knew almost no one from the group and quietly observed and listened for most of the evening. As the group got smaller, I did get to hear some pretty awesome stories about how some of them got to the current point of their career, but when it was my turn, I was definitely the odd one out: a writer from a struggling Latino household who has had to sacrifice so much for survival and is barely able to pursue her dreams as she should, working in the insurance industry because they were hiring - not because she planned on being there like most of the people that surrounded her at the moment.

While I made new acquaintances, I felt lonelier than I did before I went. Everyone parted ways and before I knew it, I was at home (one of my homes - I switch between my parents depending on who needs me around at the moment while I make some decisions). I went on Facebook like the good ol' social media junkie that I am when I noticed a link that my friend Annette shared.

It was the link to the online premiere of a short film called Stereotypically Me. I trust Annette's Facebook shares so I decided to check it.

"Stereotypically Me" is a film written, directed, and produced by Linda Nieves Powell. According to the event page, which was brought to audiences by Sofrito Media Group: Lydia, a struggling screenwriter, is pressured to get rid of her stereotypical muse Marisol in order to become a more successful writer. Marisol, a sassy, urban Latina, refuses to change. Lydia must decide whether to embrace her duality or kill the muse. Go ahead and check it out before you read the rest of what I have to say.

In this almost ten minute film, Linda shows the world what every writer of any cultural background goes through.

As I fine tune myself as a writer, I find myself contemplating the same sacrifices or break ups. This is something that I relate to not only through ethnic culture, but through genre, age, sex, and medium.

We write about what we know, but "successful writers" must go beyond that and write about things that make others feel comfortable in order to get their foot in the door. We have to decompose and detach what is natural to us, even if the story is not true to ourselves to maybe achieve greater success.

I have received many rejections. If only they were as blunt as the one in the film because I am constantly wondering what I need to change in order to be successful. Do I move away from what I typically write poems about? Do I change my writing style to match more closely with well-known poets? Do I change my niche for blogging or even my medium for art? Do I disassociate myself from experiences we don't see on paper often? What do I cut out? Who should I be?

I am still trying to figure out what to embrace and what to change or if I should change anything at all. Do I get rid of all of my Marisols or do I let my Lydia and Marisol fight the good fight together so I can become a successful writer on my terms and leave the rat race (and avoid disheartening happy hours)?

I have a lot to think about.

Sigh...you know something is good when it creates a dialogue not only with yourself but with the community at large. Share this video, share your thoughts. Let's tell the world our stories because one day the color of the world will be US!

Definitely a Write Recommendation!

The event page will be up for the next 90 days here.

On a cozy, snowy Saturday afternoon, I had the privilege of gathering with some of the very special women who make up the building legacy of Digging Deep, Facing Self. In between getting to know each other and writing poems together, we came together to let the world know why the experience of taking the Digging Deep, Facing Self course with Caits Meissner is magical.

For me, it was about finding a community of women and writers. It was also a push to consistently write, despite circumstances. If you need more convincing about why you should take this course, just watch the video.

Hello My Write Queeners,

The first week of December is filled with many poetry treats! First up is a feature on The Body Narratives. In collaboration with The Digging Deep, Facing Self course, The Body Narratives presents a week filled with poetry from incredible women. I was asked to be a part of this wonderful week. I am extremely honored and I am having a mini dance party in my head all day to celebrate my post, which came out today, December 4. 

In addition to that, I am performing as one of the featured acts for the River of Honey's cabaret showcase on Friday, December 6th. This show happens every first Friday of the month. The theme for their last show of the year is Offerings. This is definitely going to be a new exciting, but scary experience. Come out and support the show if you can!

Finally, I have another mini e-book for you...and I mean mini! When You Down A Margarita is a series of haiku (about 24 in total, I think.) about my experience of falling for a woman during college (If you didn't know this about me, now you know. If you got a problem, you know what to do - we don't tolerate any intolerance here!). 

I previously published this on Smashwords, but now with my Creative Book Builder app, I wanted to give it a little facelift. To download it, head over to my "Store" page.

That's it for now my loves. I have a couple of blog posts coming up soon. Be on the look out!

This is the most recent anthology I was published in...five poems! A little section just for me! I feel so blessed. I finally received my copy of the book after someone I know kept it hostage from me. Though there is a reason for that if you glance at the next picture.

My lovely boyfriend decided that I should receive a little praise along with the book. I nearly cried on the train when I found the card and read it. Look at it...there's even a typewriter on the front of the card! This almost was better than the book (almost...very few things beat publishing). Even though it's just my boyfriend, this kind of acknowledgement makes me feel like I am doing something right. Also makes me feel downright special.

The first anthology was a challenge for me. It was a theme-based contest. Writing my piece brought me back to my experimental days. It was also the first longer piece that has been published in an anthology. The fact that Lady Chaos Press has given me the opportunity to do this twice is a blessing. It's amazing to know that people have the opportunity to be exposed to my work when they purchase these books. Thank you so much Lady Chaos Press! Check out the press my loves.

In between all of that, I took an online writing course over the summer. The class put together this amazing and powerful e-book anthology, available for free. I have two pieces in it, one being very special to me. But I'll just let you read about it if you click on this awesome lady's name: Caits Meissner. This also gives you a chance to explore the blog if you are a first time reader (or one who needs to catch up!).

Even my best friend threw me and these ladies some praise on his site, NerosisMuse.com. I was so touched when I saw that post. Once again, it was my best friend, but knowing that my crew was paying attention shows that bring brave and making moves to improve and showcase my writing is the path I need to be on now. 

It's one thing to work hard. It's another to gain some accomplishments. Knowing that you have people behind you and willing to tell the world or go out of their way to give you a bit of praise is a warm glowing feeling I can't describe (which means I must work harder because a writer should be able to!). Don't fuss when they want to, just let them. It's okay to be celebrated.

Most importantly, take the time to acknowledge and celebrate yourself. It's okay to give yourself praise once in a blue. You work hard. When you have something to show for it, darn right you better have a mini dance party and say YAY! 

So now it's time for us to have a mini dance party!

YAY!

I hope to be able to have more mini dance parties soon. 

Take care my lovely readers! Celebrate yourselves!



P.S. I have an official mailing list now. Don't forget to subscribe here to get updates from the blog and more!

Also, don't forget to check out my fundraiser for publishing my own books. Every little bit counts! Even just sharing so please pass this along to all of your friends.

Hello my lovely Write Queeners,


We all have something (or someone) that we greatly admire as writers. 

That dream publication that we want to see our writing in because we are enamored with every piece we read in there. 

Or that writer who seems like they take the words out of our mouths and spins the reality of life into perfection. 

We all have those things/people that we place on a pedestal.

As a writer, I know what most of my aimed achievements are: I want to work for this literary magazine, I want to be published on this site, I want my manuscripts to be picked up by this certain press. Through the power of positive thinking, I imagine and almost feel like that I am doing these things already.

So when these places or people reject me, the sting is greater.

The more you want something, the higher you elevate it to a level so great that everyone is afraid of the fall. Pedestals are pretty, but you will scrape your knees.

I have been trying to get my chapbook manuscripts in presses that I admire and adore. A place I would be proud to call home for my books. 

I would be hopeful and confident about my submissions in the beginning. As time would pass, my confidence would shrink a little, but I would still be good. Until I received that e-mail. That hardly personal e-mail that thanks me for my submission, but they have chosen another manuscript. The worst ones are the e-mails announcing the winning chapbooks and finalists, but barely acknowledge the fact that you submitted at all. Guess the losers are supposed to just take the hint.

And that sting? Those scraped knees? 
Bloodshot red like your eyes after crying for hours. 

What shocks me the most is the bitterness that stays. 

I guess since it's easier to hate (sometimes) than it is to continue to love, I tend to shy away from places/people that have rejected me for while. While I lick my wounds.

In my head, which is always a better practice than actually doing it in a public forum, I will bad mouth these publications or people. Most of the time, I don't know why my manuscript wasn't strong enough, why my résumé was disregarded. Editors hardly have the time to say why. This is one thing that I wish was different. If they were required to give feedback, then I would know what's wrong (sooner) and be able to fix it, instead of wasting time on anger and the bitterness of rejection.

If you tell me what I'm doing wrong, I will take it into consideration so I can build a stronger piece! Editors, I wish you had that mercy on us poor writers sometimes. No one likes being rejected. I know this is going to happen from time to time, but still. How am I suppose to improve?

Here's a little secret: 

Writers take courses, workshops, go to conferences and writing groups. All of 
this is beneficial to our writing. But what should be incorporated more is feedback from editors.

Editors are the ones that we are trying to build relationships with. Editors are the key to getting publish. We study their publications and try to figure out if they would like us. We take chances and then feel confused when we deliver a piece that seems perfect for their taste, but then fails to deliver. 

I personally feel betrayed in a weird way. I feel like I invested so much time in a particular scenario for it to end up in failure. I don't want to be angry at myself so I take it out on a publication and editor who won't let me in on the secret.

My most reoccurring fault that I throw out there is that maybe they are pretentious. Maybe if it doesn't reek of the shadows of Whitman, Eliot, or Plath, that it's not poetry. 

Or I might say, "Oh they want the stereotype poet, you know the ones that speak in exclusively in metaphors and talks about the struggle and the beauty."

Occasionally, my thoughts even get a little racist, sexist, almost -ist there is. I think of every possible reason I could think of. This is all within a course of a hour after reading a rejection e-mail or at some point during the day. 

It's a vicious cycle. Because eventually you start to blame yourself. You think that your writing stinks and that you should quit while you're ahead, while you still have half a heart. 

This doesn't work either. Any writer with an ounce of passion will not stop writing. However, we will always be left with questions inside of our head. Getting feedback from other writers or workshops helps, but we will never get inside that editor's head. 

Recently, I have decided to go the self publishing route for my manuscripts (more on that this week), but I am taking my time because they are still under consideration at a couple of presses and contests. Yesterday morning, I got another rejection. Even though I have decided to take fate into my own hands, it still hurts when you get that "Sorry, but..." e-mail.

How does one get over this kind of rejection? How do you recover from the fall?

Well, these are just my methods. If it can help someone else, then some of this is worth it:

• Breathe - Don't forget to breathe. It hurts. I know it does. But take a deep breath and remember, it's not the end of the world (yes, cliche, but true).
• Allow yourself to feel it - it's okay to feel sad, angry, or hurt. Rejection isn't a good thing. Don't wallow in it though. Just take a little time and in your head, feel it and be angry, shout. Say how dare they! No one expects you to take rejection without feeling something.
• Do not vent in a public forum - it makes you seem like a sore loser. And if you are networking correctly, you may be connected to presses and zines via your social networks already who might see this and may not want to work with you. We all understand the struggle, but calling out individuals is not nice. They have their reasons and maybe in the future, another piece could be published by them. 
• Talk to someone - someone who really understands your writing or at least your passion for it. Getting feedback on a situation always helps. Sometimes, these ears will also be mouthpieces as to why you are great. Let them tell you and reinforce it. Your writing soul has a boo boo and it needs soothing.
• Go ahead, get some ice cream - it's okay to do something for comfort. As long as you are not putting yourself at risk or in debt, it's okay to get that ice cream cone.
• Get back to work - Go and edit that piece or start a new project. Do not wallow in the sadness of rejection. Let's get corny and say that you need to get back on the horse and try, try again! Use this as a motivation to become a stronger writer.

These little things help me and other writers I know, but it's different for everyone. You have to find the positive methods that work for you.

It hurts to fall off the the pedestal. Rejection is not pretty, but it is necessary. If we never got rejected, we would never find the right fit that could be waiting for us with the next submission or job some place else. Feel your rejection, comfort yourself, then move on. That's all any writer can do.

Oddly, writing about this has made my rejection sting a little less (See? Getting back to work helps!). We need to talk about these things so that the next generation of writers know that they are not alone on their journey. 

That's probably one of my biggest problems with being a writer. As I try to learn and grow, I find myself having to search long and hard for peers and mentors that I can connect with so that I know my experiences are normal and common. Writers can be such solitary creatures sometimes! But that can be for another post for another day.

Until next time my Writer Queeners, take care and keep grinding!

the act of poetry. the pulse of melodies blown under my fingertips. the beloved's seconds of veraciousness wrapped in kisses shot directly into jarred skin. the husband's unrelenting pilgrimage to remain in hesitant veins. flipping through poured pages that break me into pieces and make me struggle for my next breath. the struggle between scratching of the pen and the breakthrough of rattling syllables. being in a constant state of creation. pillows that allow my head to sink lower than the horizon. bursts of autumn air while looking at sunshine filtered through clouds. steaming mugs of chai tainted with vanilla and memory. the extinct stories of my family tree swinging longing into a knot of the debilitating mind of my grandmother. the laughter of womanhood honeycombed for and against me. meshing the edges of my tongue with the decadence of future decay. the creak of a door opening inside of my head. the silent continuous shift of this cognizance sitting in my skin infinitely.

This is what comes out when connecting with others on Facebook and commenting on statuses. Even I am a little surprise of this answer. For now, I will leave this as it is. But I want to play with this in the future. If only time would allow me to really dig deep into some of my writing these days.

Hello My Wonderful Write Queeners,

I hope that the month of September has been treating you well so far. It's back to school for most and back to a regular routine at work for others (don't you miss your Summer allowances already working people?).

Today I have a very grand recommendation to make. I can't even say I recommend just her classes because Caits Meissner herself is a wonderful writer and person. This summer in July, I took a 30-Day intensive writing course called Digging Deep, Facing Self. You may have read many references to this course on my blog over the summer. If you haven't, you can catch up here.

Not only did I have the opportunity to push myself and write pieces I wouldn't have dreamed of writing at this point of my life, I've had the opportunity to work with Caits and a beautiful group of women. Caits is always supportive, creative, and inspiring. She gently pushes and always the mama bear with her wonderful daily messages throughout the course. One of the things I love about her is that she is not afraid to be herself, to make mistakes, and to hear us out despite being the head hancho of the course. Everyone needs the opportunity to work with this wonderful woman!

...Especially when she sets assignments up that lead to pushing you to be brave and speak to your literary heroes. If you are an active reader of this blog, then you know that for the particular assignment that I am talking about, that I ended up speaking with the poet Sonia Sanchez. It was an incredible experience that I carry with me during the rougher days of writing.

I thank Caits so much for being wise and giving us that assignment. If you want to read up on the experience, take a look at these two posts: Open Letter to Sonia Sanchez and The Write Journey: When The Light Shines Back.

The absolute conclusion of that experience came in the mail about two weeks ago. I've been so busy that I haven't had the chance to share, but take a look:

These are the kind of things Caits inspires you to do and the results that come about. I absolutely recommend that you take her courses or work with her in general. The next round of Digging Deep, Facing Self is now open for registration. If you register before September 15, you'll get an early bird special. She is also offering a FREE teleclass called Writing in Technicolor: Editing your poems to full vibrancy on October 1, 2013 at 8PM EST.

If you want to see what incredible writing comes out of this course, please check out the anthology from the July course (and yes I am in it - so a little bias, I'll admit it!). It's called A Thing Of Beauty Painted By Words and it's absolutely FREE and available online for your reading (and sharing) pleasure.

She also sends you awesomely wonderful gifts at the end of the course. I won't tell you what it is, but it's certainly a treasure!

So....what are you waiting for guys? Go sign up for one of Caits' classes today!

Until next time, my loves, be well and write!

I've been writing poems since before I had my first kiss. I was writing scriptures of how to wrap your tongue around a burst of sweetness before I even knew the recipe of enticing fingerprints on the edges of pens, bending over pages all hours of the night.

My teen years were spent over poems I barely knew the meaning of, collecting books of secrets that lit the way of my adult hours, reciting verses of future aches. It was second nature to express myself this way, to live under the guise of this life. My lips knew the path between heart and syllables. There was no question that this would always be a part of me. It was a question of how I was going to live this fate.

It is common to deviate to different paths from time to time. From caressing EQ knobs to flicking at camera shutters, I tasted the peel from every fruit in the basket. But I always went back to the poisonous apple, the ruby madness of traitorous juices dribbling down a thousand deaths, written in ink and lead. I've been Eve, Snow White, Helen of Troy, any women betrayed by sin of a coiled snake. One bite lead to another and now I'm here, a couple of thousand poems later, written under a pile of pleasure and pain.

Yet I still scrap along. I let the apple dangle dangerously low, watching slow drips of inspiration stretch heavily down to my mouth. I wait for the break. Tilt back for the arrival. My lungs open sharply as I feel the slam of the downpour. I still tremble when the perfect line creeps in. This rush is ancient, but it's all about the renewal of faith, right? 

I have to believe we will always find each other.

This is a lonesome battle, the constant need to write versus writing. There are days spent as a wall with eyes, seeing and unable to scream. Weeks upon weeks, actually. These are the times I want to give up. The days where I don't care about the rush and being knocked into breathlessness by the ability to bend worlds on my tongue. I could retire into the insistent echoes of the rat race. I can survive and say I was once a writer, but now I'm just...here.

But I can't. When the apple dangles closes to my lips, I know I will always do this. I was writing poems since before I had my first kiss. Just like you can't undo knowing what it's like to tremble at the first contact of lips, I can't undo knowing how to make the world tremble through the art of the written.

I can't lose my grip on this.