Edits for Friday

Hey All,

Anyone want to help me with edits for the Friday reading? Comment or email me.

hearts&flowers,

dizzyfemme

Blood Moon (except not really)

Hey All.

Writing is going well. I am working on a short story for my portfolio and I'm experimenting with a new voice. It's more straight forward, with an emphasis on plot and character development. Usually I just let the language dictate what will happen, but I'm struggling with the idea that writing should just be shimmery prose. Certainly, I want to keep my fidelity to the primacy of language, but I think for first drafts I should focus on the plot. Integrating a strong plot and characters, written in a more traditional, straight-forward way but at the same time include poetic elements could prove to be a tricky balance to strike. I think I want to strive for interesting twists of words.

Anyway....

It looks like I'll be doing a 10 minute reading at the Brannigan for the "AmeriCorps: The Art of Service" show during the ramble. July 1st. When I know the time, I'll post it on here. So, if you're in the Las Cruces area, please do come check it out.

EDIT:

Here is the link for the Facebook event.

Be well.

dizzyfemme

Quick Update

Hey all.

Sorry for the lack of updates as of late. I'm working on The All Important Graduate School Portfolio, which I may or may not post sections on the blog. I do want to keep doing writing exercises, so perhaps I'll post those.

Be well.
dizzyfemme

"Yard work"

The sun struck sweat thick on my neck. Desert noonday and I’m out here burning leaves. But I got a hair up my ass to do it. So I did. A few months till moving and brush needed to be cleared. Took me a few times to strike the fire machine and work, but it came. Wind moves softly, delicately, like hands outstretched twirling in long skirts. Kicks up ash like snowflakes, sends smoke in my eyes, in my throat.

I turn to the porch to sit. I suddenly have the urge to smoke a cigarette, even though it’s been years. I turn the lighter over in my hand. I imagine the nicotine calm. But I’ve got none. I dig my hands deep into my pockets, letting them rest. I have to keep checking for blisters. Got to go easy on my hands. Dirt is ok though. Earth. But not mud. The rain doesn’t come here.


To be continued...

blurb

"Gossamer Girl in Garden"


I try to thread the pieces together. Make the string stick. But mud keeps getting stuck in my teeth, in my jaws. I spend my days eating dirt, oranges—pick the ants off the pits of my knees. Passersby’s tell me to start making mandalas, tell me it will be better if I just echo the stars. I am in no mood to listen to the dead. I listen to white ladies debate other white ladies about the effectiveness of sun block. I listen to panting dogs, to cigarettes hitting the sidewalk, of fucking and sucking. I wish I could grow spinnerets out of my ass and weave these pieces together. I try but shit just comes out instead.




Comments: Just kind of rolled this out in a few minutes. Not really sure how to end it--I don't really like that last line. I started to get more graphic with scatological references, but it just seemed too trite. I suppose this is my teen girl emo post? "Dear Journal, Mood: Pathetic"

Nonfic about why I haven't updated in a while

After lunch, I went out to the garden across the street from the school. I’ve been trying to find the root of this unsettled feeling creeping in for the past few weeks, but I can’t locate it. Perhaps the coming Rapture, or dreams I just can seem to remember but have the flavor of being perverse, or maybe its just New Mexico slowly warming up for the scorching summer has thrown me off balance. I try to make sense of it all: the job applications, boys kissing my neck, buying cars and paying bills. I can tell my mother is worried: I remind her its part of being an adult. I try to focus, try to write something, anything, really, but even my eyes seem deep and hazy. Next to me is a mess of leaves in a tree, nested and tangled.

Rules for writing

Check it out!