Religious Institutions & Child Sexual Abuse. Two Phrases That Should Not Be Seen in the Same Sentence.

I'm not very knowledgeable about religion. I was baptized a Lutheran, but never ever went to church. In fact, I know so little about my religion (or any religion) that I think it's safe to say I am an "ignorant agnostic."

That said, I do not dislike people who have faith in their religion. My feelings about people are in no way determined by what they believe in. I don't care if you're Muslim or Christian, as long as I like you for who you are, and you are an honest person (I'd even like you if you were half alien, half ape), I am happy to call you my friend.

But you know what really makes me mad? Hypocrites.

When I hear stories about child sexual abuse crimes being committed by members of the church, I freak out. It is DISGUSTING. Child abuse is disguating anyway, but when people who are supposed to be protectors commit such crimes, I want to curl up and cry. How can they do this? I just don't understand.

I find it rather amazing that on the day I release my latest poetry book, SHE, which explores child sexual abuse in church, an article is published entitled, Religious institutions a playground for abuse.

It states, "In the U.S., 16,787 people have said that they were abused as children by priests between 1950 and 2012, according to the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, as reported by PBS. However, child abuse within the church isn’t exclusive to the Catholic denomination." Read more here.

I have decided to donate 100% of the profits made on SHE, until the end of 2014, to ISPCAN. SHE is only $0.99 cents on Kindle. The cost of a few sips of coffee.

If you don't have a Kindle, you can download the Kindle Reader App onto you computer or your Android phone, tablet, iPad, iPhone, Mac, Windows 8 PC or tablet, BlackBerry, or Windows Phone.

I know this probably won't help much. But every little bit counts. And I think this is the least I can do for a worthy cause.

I hope you consider purchasing and spreading the word.

_______________

EASY TWEET:

SHE #newrelease—an exploration of religious institutions & #ChildAbuse—100% profits go 2 @ISPCAN—Only $0.99 http://goo.gl/dGSTsT #poetry

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The Artist Unleashed: POETRY FOR CHRISTMAS, by Orna Ross

The Artist Unleashed posts have moved to a new domain. Please click HERE to read the rest of this post and for the opportunity to comment. Just search for the title of the post in the search bar on the new site.

Bits 'n' Bobs and Bits 'n' Bobs

I've drawn a bit of a blank on what to write about today, so I'm just going to fill you in on bits and pieces of news:

1. After much effort by Libby Hathorn to promote the Australian poetry anthology, Women's Work, far and wide, it was taken up by Australia's ABC Radio National’s much admired poetry program, Poetica.

It aired on Saturday 9th November at 3 pm, and will again this Thursday night at 9 pm (Aussie time).

Twenty poems were read by actors with original music composed and performed by Melbourne pianist Andrea Keller.

One of the poems being read is mine, entitled, Sugar, and I'm extremely honoured to have been selected. If you'd like to hear it, but don't have time to listen to the whole 36 minutes (it really is a wonderful program, though), you can find my poem at 31:35 mins.

2. I've finished the 2nd draft of my fourth novel, White Lady, a literary crime thriller. Whoop! It's currently with beta readers.

3. The Xpresso Blog Tour for my latest release, Bitter Like Orange Peel, starts today. You can find the itinerary here.

4. Crystal Collier's debut, Moonless, is being released on November 13! Congratulations Crystal! She also has as blog tour starting today. You can find the details here.



Hope you all have a great week! What's your news?

PS: If you like Dalmatians, and want a bit of a giggle, you can watch my dog, Holly, treat my hand like a foreign object by clicking HERE.

PPS: If you missed them, you might like to read my two latest most popular posts, Why People Hating My Book Can Be A Good Thing and
Why Literary Journals Should Accept Reprints & Simultaneous Submissions

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What if it were illegal to wear clothes?

What if it were illegal to wear clothes?

What if it were the law to wear a temperature-controlled body suit made of fetus membrane ... every day?

What if you were a singer, and it was illegal to sing?

What if you sang anyway, and got detained by a LEO, and punished by having your vocal chords violently slashed, and eardrums perforated?

What if multiple offenders were killed for their skin?

Would you commit suicide? Drown yourself in the river?

Concetta would.

But something stops her in her tracks ...

Would you like to read her story?

Email me if you're interested in reviewing a copy of my latest release, a cyberpunk/dystopian short story in verse.

The answer to Friday's riddle ...

Congratulations to Luca Marchiori for guessing last Friday's riddle correctly!

Yup, it was MILK BOTTLE. The old-fashioned kind.

Here's a breakdown:

Translucent (a milk bottle is glass and see-through), thin like a swan’s neck (yup, when it's filled with milk I think that comparison works)

I sit in a box—waiting. (on the doorstep) Waiting for

someone to pop my protector—silver

boom gate. (that bit of aluminum foil that seals the opening) My juice is creamy, pure (milk is creamy and pure)

—seasoned with grass (cows eat grass). In the past,

I tempted infidelity; ladies’ revolt. (when the hubbies were at war, the cliche is that the women slept with the milkman.)

What Am I? Answer correctly and win a $10 Amazon gift card.

Read the poem. Can you guess what I am? First person to answer correctly  wins a $10 Amazon Gift card. Will reveal answer on Monday.

Source

Translucent, thin like a swan’s neck

I sit in a box—waiting. Waiting for

someone to pop my protector—silver

boom gate. My juice is creamy, pure

—seasoned with grass. In the past,

I tempted infidelity; ladies’ revolt.

Giveaway for a good cause!

CLICK TO ENTER! THREE COPIES AVAILABLE!
OPEN INTERNATIONALLY!

Poetry Pact 2011 by Angela Felsted
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This is a fabulous collection of poetry. And I'm not just saying that because I'm in it. The poets in this collection came together via an online poetry group I started at the beginning of 2011 to help motivate frequent poetry writing. So not only are these wonderful poets connected by the skill to write beautiful poetry, they are connected by a strong bond, one of unconditional support and enthusiasm for each others' work. And I think this fact makes the collection an even more beautiful thing.

Oh, and how can you ignore the fact that all profits go to charity: http://www.directrelief.org/?

Not only are these poets talented, but they are selfless, generous individuals who I am beyond proud to know. Please, share, and offer your support, to those who go out of their way to give: Angela Felsted, Richard Merrill, Alaine Benard, Angie Ledbetter, Artemis Grey, Caleb Mannan, Emily Kruse, February Grace, Glynis Smy, Janice Phelps Williams, Jim Murdoch, J.R. McRae, Kerala Varma, Laurel Garver, Lydia Kang, Madeline Sharples, and Roslyn Ross.

View all my reviews

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Poetry Pact 2011

by Angela Felsted

Giveaway ends July 01, 2012.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter to win

PS: Thank you to Amy Saia and Laurel Garver for promoting FABRIC today! :)


PPS: I know it's the Insecure Writer's Support Group today, but I kinda forgot until the last minute. So please forgive me! But I can tell you this, I'm supposed to be writing 50,000 words this month and I'm still at a mere 300. Ugh. Can I do it? I don't think so, but I'm going to keep humouring myself for a while!

Knocking Down the Walls ...

I'm over at A DEAD GOOD BLOG today talking about Narrative vs. Lyric (not) ... :o) Would love to see you there ...


Hope everyone is having a great weekend.

An amazing book by an even more amazing woman ...

Cleave by Angela Felsted
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I've known Angela Felsted for about a year now, I believe. I met her through blogging, but got to know her even better when I started a poetry group on Facebook and we began critiquing each other's poems. In one word: WOW. Angela's talent is as much needed in this world as rain is to a drought. So, naturally, I want to give this amazing poet and musician some help to get the word out about her poetry chapbook, CLEAVE, which is available for pre-order through Finishing Line Press.

First, I'd just like to point out a few very pleasing aesthetics. It's all in lowercase. I'm a sucker for lowercase in poetry. I love how it represents a sort of purity and innocence, which, I might add, is remarkably clever considering the poetry is centered around childhood memories. Such a beautiful touch. Also, the titles of each poem are like sentences. Another unique trait that really caught my attention from the get go. I love it when writers break rules because, in my opinion, they are there to be broken, and when that happens, one's true voice shines through.

This collection strongly centers around the themes of music (even if quite symbolic) and tainted innocence. There are also a few religious connotations, but really they are only obvious if you decide to read the collection with religion in mind. I'm not a religious person, so I was so pleased to be able to read past Felsted's spiritual subtleties, and give them meanings of my own. This is a sign of true talent, when a reader is able to read and associate the words with themself, and not the poet.

I found myself ooh-ing and ahh-ing aloud over Felsted's work. I sometimes even thought, "wow. I wish I wrote that!" I could pinpoint my favorite moments from each and every poem (there is not even one dud among them), but I'm going to choose a line from one; one I'd like to call my favorite: "i was as water".

"...when i
tried to hold you
i tumbled
and slid
leaving sand on your
tattered shore ..."

I like to read this in two different ways:

1. to a person in my past
I am the wave. I tried to stay close to you, and love you, but all I did was leave my wretched debris on your already wretched land.

2. To my stringed instrument
I was holding you, but my grip on the bow was not strong enough (or too strong), it slipped out of my hand, leaving remnants of resin in your over-used strings. I'm afraid to play you. To hurt you. To hurt myself.

There is so much in this collection that evokes such a response. I will read this collection a lot more than once. And I'm sure, that with every reading, I will find something new to ooh and ahh over.

If you'd like to show your support and pre-order a copy of Angela Felsted's CLEAVE, please go HERE. You will not be disappointed!

View all my reviews

Imagine falling in love with your own reflection, or only ever being able to repeat the words of others. (Echo & Narcissus)

Source

Happy Monday, all!

Wow. Last week was intense. Writing poetry, poetry, poetry and ... gave a poetry reading at The Athens Centre on Friday night. I also read an excerpt of String Bridge which was very well-received by the 20 or so American Art Students that were studying there. I had a great time. It as the first reading I'd ever given, and surprisingly I held it together pretty well. (I usually get REALLY nervous when I have to perform in public.)

So just to give you a quick rundown of the type of poems I ended up writing during the workshop:

Riddle
Villanelle
Abecedarian
Pantoum
List poem
Syllabic
Mirror
Sestina
Ballad

I also learned a little about the myth of Echo and Narcissus, which was a brilliant inspiration for poetry. The Pantoum and Mirror poem I wrote were inspired by this myth. I'd love to share my poems, but I plan to submit them to magazines so it's not a very good idea. Sorry! If any of you are interested in seeing any of my creations, I'll email them to you.

PS: Our instructor was amazing. If you're into poetry (even if you're not!), check out A.E. Stallings. Genius. Absolute genius. I've never ever met anyone who can retain and regurgitate so much information on the spot without referring to notes. Plus, she was able to dissect our poetry after reading it only once. Amazing. I am in awe.

Stupid me forgot to take photos ... :-/

So what did I miss last week? Anything interesting you want to direct me to?

Away this week ...

Source

Hi folks! I won't be posting this week as I'm attending a week-long POETRY WORKSHOP.

Have a great week and see you all again on Sunday 26th, for Stories For Sendai's, Blog Tour De Force!

PS: There's still time to sign up for my String Bridge Book & Music Blog Tour!

How do you feel about writing content that might cause conflict within your family?

Clarissa Draper wrote an amazing review of my poetry collection Twisted Velvet Chains. And it poses a very interesting question that I'd like to discuss today. How do you feel about writing content that might cause conflict within your family?

Clarissa, in her review, said, "It's honest. Brutally honest. There were a few occasions I asked, 'Would Jessica's family read this?' or 'Should I read this?' or 'Should I know this?' But, I realized the answer is yes. For the same reason I write fiction based on real life. For the same reason parts of me go into my books. For the same reason writers tell stories."

I'd like to say I didn't think twice about writing this book, but I have to be honest here. I was SO scared to publish this book. Not because it reveals a few truths about me and my mother, but because the poems are very embellished, and I was worried (am still worried) that the people who know both me and my mother and our history are going to think that the way I depict our relationship is REAL. Well, it's not real. The poems may have been inspired by real events and triggered by real memories, but the fact of the matter remains, that after working at these poems, and making them the best they can be, they no longer represent my mother and me.

However, despite this, I'm still scared. Because when my mother reads these poems, she is going to recognize a few elements about her past. And she is going to be thinking, "Oh my God, Jessica, is this how you think of me? Like a monster?" No. I DO NOT THINK OF HER AS A MONSTER. But will she forgive me? Will she be worried that everyone is going to think it's her in this book? Is she going to be afraid to give it to people to read? These possibilities break my heart because that was not my intention at all. These poems may be dark and twisted, but they are also art. Art that I'm proud to say I created. And I'm proud to show it to the world. I hope that my mother can understand this and be proud of me too.

My mother is alive and healthy and we both have a wonderful relationship. I just have a dark mind and vivid imagination. Mum, you are a beautful, kind-hearted woman, who I love with all my heart. I do not blame you for anything. I know you suffered more than me. I love you. And I always will.

(PS: If you like to read poetry, you can now purchase a copy HERE or HERE. It will also be available through all fine bookstores in about six weeks.)

What is this concrete you speak of? Oh! ...

Ever heard of concrete poetry? No? I hadn't either. But it's fun! This is my first attempt at one. What do you think? Click image to read.

PS: I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO relieved. The deadline on the Writing Skills book I have to write has been pushed back a WHOLE month! Woot! Ah ... relief ...

Have you ever tried to write an unusual form of poetry? Or if you don't write poetry, do you dabble in any other abstract art?

Chains, Velvet, Twisted Grace; Help me out with this small case?

As well as working on String Bridge revisions, I'm also compiling a poetry collection. Yeah, call me crazy, but I can do it. And sometimes it's nice to take a break from my novel, let's say for 15-20 minutes to scribble down a poem. I can do them pretty fast as I have life long practice with lyrics. A little completed gem, that I'll come back to later to tweak. I've scrapped my memoir project. I just can't do it. Not my style, and I'm not going to force it. But. This poetry book is inspired by childhood memories, so in other words, it's going to be a glorified version of my memoir in verse.

So, I need help with a title.

Consider that my style is very dark, experimentally lyrical free verse and prose with rich, vivid and stark imagery. And all the poems are based on my experiences as a child growing up with a drug addicted musician as a mother.

These are some possibles:

Chains
Velvet Chains
Twisted Velvet Chains
Twisted Chains
Velvet Steel
Twisted Grace
Fit For A Coffin
Still Holding My Breath

If you need to read a sample to make a better decision, go HERE to read a short flash fiction piece which reflects the style of my collection.

Of course, any other title ideas you have that aren't listed here are welcome too! :o)

What Is This Thing Called Poetry? A guest post by author & poet Mark Van Aken Williams

Today I have the pleasure to introduce Mark Van Aken Williams, an amazing author and poet, who has generously accepted the opportunity to guest post about writing poetry today. I couldn't resist asking him after reading a wonderful collection of his called Circus by Moonlight.

What Is This Thing Called Poetry?

Mozart claimed that his letters came from God. Seamus Heaney said that his poetry came from a metaphorical dig, to uncover the hiding places of his power. For each, the result could be referred to as the source of creative inspiration.

So what is it and where does it come from? There are concepts of poetry that developed in separate ancient civilizations, which had no contact with each other. Yet their ideas and notions about poetry had similarities.

From the beginning in Western culture, there has been a dual attitude toward this source. The poem is made not only by the poet, but it is given to him by a deity or spirit. From this tradition, we still equate inspiration with divine gifts or with some sort of spiritual enlightenment. We think of the very best poets, as those who submit to influences stronger than they are, because what they perceive to see seems inconceivable to them (things that as humans we can only have an inaccurate and vague notion of).

In the New World, the Mayan culture believed that poetry enraptured man, and intensified his emotions and perceptive powers. It enabled him to perceive what he (as a human) ordinarily could not. Once enraptured, the poet would speak the only truth on earth.

I do not subscribe to the influence of an enlightened spirit or Muse, or God. I see poetry as a way to plumb the depths of my imagination, through what I have experienced (especially childhood), and what I have read (here I’m talking about development of the intellect). For me, a poem is something that says more in a few words than a novel can in five hundred pages, with wit and word-play. It has an extraordinary mixing of music and thought. The job of the poet is to choose the right words, not only for sound (the music of poignant language) and connotation (landscape), but even for the countenance of them.

The poem corresponds to a centrifuge of sound, alliteration and rhythm. The reader will be walking into a world for the very first time; a world of terseness and parsimony. True poetry is derived from the poet’s peculiar type of knowledge, which is the fruit of his authentic inner experience, the result of intuition (perhaps this is the part many mistake for spiritualism). So the poem becomes a profound expression, through symbol and metaphor, of what the poet has intuitively and mysteriously discovered.

Sylvia Plath wrote in her journal, when discussing the creation of some new poetry, “I feel my mind, my imagination, nudging, sprouting, prying & peering.”

I could not have said it better.

Another person said, “What makes a good poem? A good poet.”

Thank you so much, Mark, for this wonderful post! If you'd like learn more about Mark and his work you can do so by clicking the following links:

His official website

Facebook

Blog

Purchase The Prophet of Sorrow on Amazon

Purchase Circus By Moonlight on Amazon

So how about you? Do you dabble in poetry? How do your ideas come about?

Poppy seeds grown on rainbows

Fatigue looms red, above like lead.

"I'm way too old. It's too late!" I said.

But a little pixie by my bed,

keeps prodding, poking, spinning his head

Go on! Make some fairy bread!

I dream I’ll gobble it, sniff it, pat it,

spin round in my pretty pink party dress.

I’ll wade through the crowds, the bullies, the boys

Past party pies, the pastries, the toys

Straight to white triangle joys.

They’re fluffy white clouds, that fairies grow,

they’re sprinkled with heaven’s meeds.

They’re picked and bottled like globular beads

Filtered, lacquered, picked from weeds

And they call them Rainbow Poppy Seeds.

Don’t forget about my CONTEST!

Alliteration: How does it affect you?

I've been editing my poems recently to try and put together a chapbook for a contest and I've received some feedback from a couple of people who know what they're talking about. The feedback has been great, and really helpful. Some of the feedback I received has even posed an interesting question. About alliteration. Now I have to admit in my excitement I got carried away with it. And I do agree that it is a little overwhelming when you go overboard, but does it really distract you from the meaning of the words? Or does it make you think, 'ooh, that's clever,' and therefore try to pay more attention to them?

This is what my father said to me after I edited the crap out of one of my poems Expectations: "The choice of word is critically important. You could write the poem, Expectation, in many ways and convey the same sentiment, but by using the letter ‘e’ in that alliterative way says something, doesn’t it? Do you want to produce prose, or poetry, two very different things, often mistaken for one and the same!"

Ok. So I'm going to show you the two versions of Expectations. One with the over use of alliteration, and the other edited and toned down. I'd like to know how they make you feel. Do they both have a different affect on you? Is one easier to understand? Do you prefer one or the other? All opinions welcome! Even if you want to tell me that they're both shite ;o).

EXPECTATIONS (original)

 Empirical edits wound
Essential elements aligned.
I’ve engrossed myself in
Expert advice
…..Expedited my soul for
Exclusion from the eluent
But I embrace it
……The expanding expectations
Erected in hope.


Excitement does not ebb
While my exigency is manifest
In erratic emotions
Evolving exclusively from
The embolism encompassing me

But equal to
Eventual high hopes
Is enigmatic doubt.
I elude elimination.
…..Emergent re-evaluation
At the behest of my esteem?
Is evolution endorsed
Or will ebullient energy be erased?

Emancipate the emotion!
Emaciate the threads that
Weave an earnest determination
In my existence!

EXPECTATIONS (edited)

 Empirical edits wound;
vital elements aligned.
I’ve engrossed myself in
expert advice,
advanced my soul
barred from the eluent.
I embrace potential;
mounting expectations
erected in hope.


Thrill won’t cease to ebb
and constraint is manifest
in shifting emotion
sprouting solely
from the embolism
surrounding me.


Eventual high hopes
disperse; aggravated by
this enigmatic doubt.
I must elude abolition;
re-evaluation.
Is evolution sanctioned,
or will this vast ebullient
energy desist?


Emancipate emotion!
Emaciate the threads that
weave grave determination
in my existence!

So folks, what do you think? Which one is more powerful in your opinion?

Am I talking out of my arse?

I say 'poetry'.

You say, 'I never understand it.'

I say, 'Look at it like putting together a puzzle.'

You say, 'How?'

I say, 'Think symbolism'.

You say, 'What do you mean?'

I say, 'When you read 'flower'. Don't always expect it to mean 'flower'. Expect it to mean what the flower might represent or symbolize according to the other words surrounding it - according to the emotions the poet is trying to portray.'

You say, 'I don't get it.'

I say, 'You never understand them.'

You say, 'Have you seen Ben?.'

I say, 'Ah, very poetic'.

You look at me blankly.

I smile.

You say, 'So is that really a smile or does it symbolize something else?'

I say, 'Now you're talking out of your arse.'

You say, 'I am not.'

I say, 'Think symbolism. Your arse symbolises the crap you're uttering.'

You say, 'Ah! Now I get it!'

I say, 'Get what exactly?'

You say, 'Well, if I want to write a poem, all I have to do is talk ot of my arse!'

Don’t forget about my CONTEST!

Calling for poetry experts!

test

When my mind sways towards the morbid ...

Well, this is my last day (again!) of blogging until 16th August. This time for a REAL vacation. I don't have to work for two weeks! YAY!
So I'm going to leave you with a poem, which was actually inspired by a book, written by a fellow blogger of ours, Karen Gowen. It's called Farm Girl (the book, not my poem). 
Now I say inspired, not based on. Do not get these words confused :o) My mind can sway towards the morbid quite often, and in this case it has.

This could probably do with a little tweaking, but here you are anyway ...

As the fire burns, so does hate

Daddy’s children run through the open gate

The sun is hot and the grass is dry

Mummy cries as crops begin to die

The drought has lasted many months

And the carving tools have grown quite blunt

The baby cries – it tries to breathe

The mother sighs – she tries to weave

Father kills their last little lamb

And collects dirty water from the dried up dam

He prays to the heavens for it to rain

Prays for a savior to wash away their pain

They can no longer live on water and bread

Pretty soon he thinks they’ll all be dead

They huddle together on their collapsing porch

Waiting for the flames to burn and scorch

Believe in miracles, Daddy does not

Behind the pickles, he finds his last shot

To save his family – thier lives he must claim

And believe life must end, to begin again

On shot. Two shots. Three shots. Four?

He pokes his head through the fly wire door

His family lie dead on the crackling lawn

Begging for their souls to be reborn

As the fire burns, so does hate
He listens to it roar, past the open gate
The flames are hot, and his mouth is dry
The time has come
for the last
seed
to
die

Check back on the 16th August. I've got a really awesome surprise for you all during that week, and believe me, you won't want to miss it! ;o)

Happy Holidays!