Category Archives: Essay

by | February 26, 2015 · 5:20 am

The Gift of Doll God – Ellen Morris Prewitt

I wish I could figure out a way to reblog Ellen Morris Prewitt’s beautifully written and heartfelt review of Doll God. But I could not figure it out.

The Press This function is supposed to pick up part of the post, but of course it only shares the link. But here it is: a story of Ellen, dolls, poetry, and Doll God.

CLICK THERE—->The Gift of Doll God – Ellen Morris Prewitt.

Thank you, Ellen!

Please check out Ellen’s fabulous writing, accessible by her website. Bonus: she’s hilarious–and you can see that even by the review quotes she posts: from an internet stranger and from her mother. That’s the kind of sneaky humor you get by reading and listening to Ellen’s stories.

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Dad is chomping at the bit at the short-term care nursing home. He doesn’t like that they won’t let him move around by himself. I told him he’s like me–doesn’t want to follow institutional rules. He said that is true. Of course, it’s more than that. He’s in an extremely frustrating position. But I like to cheer him up by joking with him.

The kitties were great last night and say hi to everyone!Nakana

Nakana is my new favorite! She loves petting!

 

 

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by | February 16, 2015 · 5:20 am

Getting Hubby Out of the Home Office

Hubby and I were “orientated” to volunteer at our local no-kill animal shelter. We particularly want to help socialize cats. That is something we both know how to do. We have four elderly cats. They all love humans. One day I will have to write character sketches of these, um, characters who live in our house. Now that they are all old at the same time, they are a ton of work. So I truly can’t handle any more cats right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help some more!

The orientation was led by the director, a personable and caring lady who seems like such a great caretaker of the animals. After the talk, we went on a tour of the facility. It used to be a daycare, so there are various features: a cage around the front door so nobody can get out onto the busy street, rooms for sick animals who are recovering, a social room for cats, and kennels for dogs. Out back, the playground has been divided into large pens and runs. The dogs have some exercise equipment out back. It’s all very nice and clean. They plan to put up some shade for the dogs in the yard before summer.

The animals live at the shelter until they are adopted. Those who cannot be adopted have a home for life, but the shelter is not a sanctuary. Their goal is to adopt out as many animals as possible. They want to find the best homes for their animals, too. Cats must go to people who agree to keep them indoors entirely, and they cannot be declawed. Arizona is not a safe place outside for cats: coyotes, owls, hawks, and a myriad of other dangers.

What I learned is that Maricopa County (where Phoenix is located) has a high kill rate at the pound. And that by far the majority of dogs there are pit bulls/pittie mixes and chihuahua mixes. So very sad. By the way, there were two pit bull type dogs I met last night that were simply the sweetest dogs ever. If you’re in the Phoenix area, check them out.

Because of my bum foot I can’t handle large dogs or dogs in a group setting like this, but I did learn that they allow volunteers to take dogs for outings. The dog you take out for a walk or to the park or wherever wears a little “Adopt Me” vest so that strangers see that this dog needs a home.  I will give that a try with one of the small dogs and see how it goes.

This shelter has a good relationship with PetSmart which houses some of their animals for them. PetSmart, with the help of shelter volunteers, also showcases the animals every weekend at their stores. And PetSmart donates goods to the shelter, which the shelter then sells as a fundraiser. You can purchase low price collars, kennels, and the like there.

Mainly, hubby and I want to play with and cuddle the cats and kittens in the cat room. Last time I told you about meeting the Mayor. He was king of the cat room last night. His name is Henry, and he has a dignified, but outgoing personality. There were fluffy gray kittens and many other cats. One mama cat was isolated in a cage with her kittens so that they could feed in peace.

My photos stink because when I tried snapping pix, even surreptitiously, other new volunteers gave me the stink eye. So I will wait and take pix later of the kitties in the cat room!

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Above are the photos of some hopeful animals. Let’s face it, they all want to go home with YOU.

(Tagging this post “research and prep for writing” because there have got to be some stories behind the bars . . .).

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by | February 5, 2015 · 5:20 am

Another No Writing Day

On Monday, hubby and I drove to California for business. We took Freeway 10 from Phoenix to Cali, and just before we got to Indio (which is still the middle of nowhere in the desert, with absolutely zero side roads) we got stopped by a complete road blockage. An accident had occurred 6 hours before. We sat there for THREE HOURS (sorry for shouting; I can’t help myself) without moving.

See the lady standing by her car? She had a child with her. How trying for both mother and daughter.

This guy wore a Seahawks shirt and tossed a football in the median.  Like too many people he must have been going home from the Super Bowl.

There were lots of RVs and campers on the road back from the big Party. Some of the trucks and RVs were pulling cars. In the next photo, note that big fancy black RV way up there on the right.

We discovered that the accident had occurred in the early morning. A semi collided with a chicken truck. “There were no fatalities,” the news report said. You might think it sounds kind of funny until you think about all the chickens that might have been killed in the accident.  I hope that a lot of chickens escaped into the desert where they live out their natural lives, subsisting on bugs and tender plant shoots.

Here is a scene of the accident cleanup when they finally allowed us past. Can you please tell me why it takes 8 hours to clean up from an accident when people have no way to detour and are stuck in the desert with no water, food, bathrooms, or medicine?

Next day my back was out from sitting in the car for ten hours total. What a waste of a day. Needless to say, no writing occurred the day of the roadblock or the day after either! I wrote yesterday, but my back was still bad. And today, still not good. But there is Motrin and sake–a moderately effective combo.

 

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by | January 26, 2015 · 5:20 am

My Mother-in-Law’s Legacy, Part III

What I didn’t realize until after my MIL passed away was that she had painted my first school–McKinley Elementary–where I attended kindergarten. My grandparents lived across the street, and I stayed with them during the day while my parents were at work. Grandma walked me across Emerson Street every morning for school. In this painting you can see my grandparents’ house on the other corner. Sorry that the image below looks a little crooked. There is glass over the painting and I had to angle the camera in order to avoid the glare.

The school is long gone, but the house my grandfather built is still standing. When I was a kid it was white, but then it was gold. Now it’s white again. The gray house on the other side of theirs is also gone. Here is the house today as I saw it in October.

Here’s a little tangent away from my mother-in-law. Although the house looks modest, it was a wonderland to me. I loved every minute I spent there–from the 2nd floor with the 3 bedrooms still preserved as my mother and her siblings had lived in them (complete with books and toys) to the kitchen where my grandmother made homemade doughnuts and delicious farm suppers to the money plants and strawberries growing out back.

My gigantic classroom at McKinley was at the opposite side of the first floor from my grandparents’ house. It had a huge window which opened out to a grassy field. We could walk out through that field and sit under an old thick-trunked tree while the teacher read to us or we played post office. I do wonder sometimes what it is that makes us tear down public buildings that well served generations. Why do we need new?

My MIL’s paintings captured many buildings in Kalamazoo that had new facades put on or were destined to be destroyed. How sweet of her to paint my first school.

P.S. We discovered the painting after Diana passed away, and my husband and I gave it to my mother because it was her school, too!

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by | January 16, 2015 · 5:20 am

Searching for Angels

Woohoo! My book is available. (Where’s that champagne bottle again? Empty?)

Since Doll God is now up on Amazon here, I thought I would tell you a little more about the collection. Here is the full description:

Luanne Castle’s debut poetry collection, Doll God, studies traces of the spirit world in human-made and natural objects–a Japanese doll, a Palo Verde tree, a hummingbird. Her exploration leads the reader between the twin poles of nature and creations of the imagination in dolls, myth, and art.

From the first poem, which reveals the child’s wish to be godlike, to the final poem, an elegy for female childhood, this collection echoes with the voices of the many in the one: a walking doll, a murderer, Snow White. Marriage, divorce, motherhood, and family losses set many of the poems in motion. The reader is transported from the lakes of Michigan to the Pacific Ocean to the Sonoran Desert.

These gripping poems take the reader on a journey through what is found, lost, or destroyed. The speaker in one poem insists, “I am still looking for angels.” She has failed to find them yet keeps searching on. She knows that what is lost can be found.

Doll God promo cover

It’s really hard to describe your own book! Seriously. I wrote the above description, but it seemed agonizing to do so. After all that work crafting those three little paragraphs, you better believe I’m going to use it ;).

If you’re so inclined to buy Doll God and see what I’ve spent so much time on for the past 20 years, I will be thrilled to hear how the poems make you feel. Because above all, poems should be felt as a sensation or series of sensations.

I was so blessed to get pre-publication reviews from some absolutely stellar poets and writers. Although Stuart Dybek is most well-known as one of the most important short story writers of the time, he began his writing career as a poet and has published two poetry collections, in addition to many other books.  Matthew Lippman and Caroline Goodwin are highly successful and absolutely wonderful poets. Their styles couldn’t be more dissimilar, and yet they both write exquisite poetry. You can find these blurbs on the back of Doll God.

“Every day the world subtracts from itself,” Luanne Castle observes.  Her wonderfully titled collection, Doll God, with its rich and varied mix of poems part memoir, part myth and tale, shimmers as it swims as poetry is meant to, upstream against the loss.

Stuart Dybek, MacArthur Fellow and author of Streets in Their Own Ink

 

In her haunting first collection, Luanne Castle has created a space where “the sounds/of the schoolchildren/and the traffic/grind down/to nothing” and where the reader is invited to experience the lasting echo of our primal human past. Who makes our toys, and why? Which toys and in whose likeness?  With startling imagery and a keen eye for the subtler shapes of violence and redemption, Castle asks us to consider and re-consider these questions. Like a “world of broken mirrors waiting” the poems call us back to ourselves, our childhoods, and the potential rewards of prayer and reflection. I find both hope and despair in these pages, where “every day the world subtracts from itself and nothing/is immune,” and every object contains a voice and a story. This is a fierce and beautiful book.

Caroline Goodwin, author of Trapline

 

Luanne Castle’s new collection, Doll God, is sublime.  The manner of these poems– that they embrace the doll and bring to it humanity and divinity–is something to behold.  The voice in these poems is tender, visceral, and wonderfully human.  Ms. Castle has forged a vision that feels like something you want to dance with, dress up, talk to like a child, but with an adult’s sensibility.  I love these poems with my whole heart because they make me feel both childlike and grown, simultaneously.  Doll mistresses, primordial conches, Barbies, infuse these poems with tremendous humanity, and they delight with purpose, sadness and joy, and an incredible range that will leave you breathless.

Matthew Lippman, author of American Chew

I’m so nervous and so excited for you to read my book. I hope you like it. Better yet, I hope some of the poems resonate with you and your life.

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by | January 15, 2015 · 7:25 am

Never Too Young for Soda

While I’m twiddling my thumbs waiting for Amazon to list my book, I thought I’d mention (again) that my husband has a soda pop advertising collection.

I have to walk past this every day.

 

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Here is a vintage ad I  think is particularly bizarre, hilarious, or disgusting–probably all of those descriptions.

A baby drinking 7up! Can you imagine what would happen if a company tried to create an ad like that today?! No wonder my generation is hooked on soda.

Or am I the only one with a soda problem? I have it down to one a day, but even that seems ridiculous with all the wonderful teas available. And plenty of water.

But think of it: every day I walk past all those signs. They murmur “refreshing,” trying to coax me over to the refrigerator.

 

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by | January 8, 2015 · 5:20 am

Time Suck by Choice or By Nature

My new healthy lifestyle is off to a good start. I haven’t had a truffle. I bought a Fitbit. The very first day I walked over 10,200 steps. Here‘s an article about the origins of the 10,000 step goal.

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Every year, around this time, a bird attacks a certain window on the back of my house. The first couple of years it was a larger bird, similar to a starling although probably a more mild-mannered species and a bit smaller. Peck peck peck at the windowpane.

I find it very upsetting because I know that birds need to eat all day long–and any bird who spends hours pecking at a pane of glass is not eating enough food.  I always run outside with a broom to shoo it away, but it comes back the moment my back is turned. Let’s assume it’s been a different bird every year, but I can’t be sure.

This year a smaller bird is going after the window, but he isn’t just pecking.

What do you think he’s doing? She’s doing?

Somebody told me that the shiny film that “tints” the windows creates a mirror for a bird. He sees himself in the mirror and thinks he is seeing another bird. So are these birds trying to mate with their own reflections? Can’t birds tell when another bird is a male or female? When the bird was just pecking, I figured it was a male thinking he was attacking another male. But this behavior looks a little different. In fact, it almost looks like the bird is trying to jump up to see inside the house!

Before you laugh dismissively, thinking I’m being whimsical, let me tell you that one time, when I was sitting at the computer, a young bunny ran up to the glass door. He stood on his hind legs and peered into the house, very obviously trying to see inside.

I’ve been thinking about this poor bird. Although I keep trying to scare him away, he always comes back, wasting his valuable feeding time. Does he do it because he chooses to do so or is it part of his bird nature?

Will this baby bird grow up to be as silly as the adult birds?

baby bird

I started to wonder how often I’m like that bird, wasting my precious time on something that doesn’t “feed” me in a nourishing way. All those times I sit there with a numbed brain scrolling through my Facebook home page. That’s a time suck that has to go.

What do you waste your valuable time on?

 

 

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by | January 5, 2015 · 5:20 am

The Words I Didn’t Know I Knew Until I Read Them

Have you ever read a line or two in a poem or a sentence in prose that you “recognize”? Words that seem to speak to you? I’ve had the thrill of that experience many times, and even so, it always feels like something rare and special. As if the words reach somewhere inside me and find a perfect match. A puzzle piece in the proper place.

I began a memoir piece I wrote about the bomb shelter my father built in our basement with lines from a poem by Brigit Pegeen Kelly:

while the one divides into two: the heart and its shadow,
The world and its threat, the crow back of the sparrow.

These lines are from a poem called “Of Ancient Origins and War.” When I read them for the first time, I felt as if I already knew them although they contained fresh images that I had never read.

They reminded me of when I lived in the house with the bomb shelter under my feet. I previously wrote about the shelter here. When I last visited Michigan, I drove by the house. The trees are much more mature today, and the house is no longer white. Is the bomb shelter still there?

I think the reason Kelly’s lines struck me is because they felt “real” to me. The notion that the heart has a shadow. That’s not something ever said, but it’s true. It’s kind of frightening. There is love and there is love’s shadow. There is the beating center of our existence and there is a shadow created by our very existence.

And of course there is the world and the threat to the world, as well as the threat that comes from the world. What better representation of the threat is a bomb shelter. By trying to protect his family, my father terrified us.

Although “the crow back of the sparrow” feels so right here, my understanding of it seems to float. What do you think it means?

What fresh new words from a story or poem have you recognized?

 

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by | January 1, 2015 · 5:20 am

The New Year’s Post I Never Thought I’d Have to Make

New Year’s resolutions have never been part of my life. It all seems like such a waste of time. I never thought I would make a genuine definitely-gonna-keep-this resolution.

However, this year I made one–actually a slew of them, all related–but not because the year has slipped from 2014 to 2015. I did it for these reasons (and I apologize in advance for boring medical info):

  1. My dad is recovering from an aortic dissection–without surgery, surgical skill, and good luck, this has fatal consequences
  2. My mother had several stents put in her heart when she was 70
  3. My DNA health report lists a lot of possible potential coronary type problems
  4. I have the teeny tiniest circulatory channels (blood drawing nightmare stories abound in my memory banks)
  5. My doctor is rechecking my cholesterol the 3rd week of January
  6. I’ve been letting my health slide during the mad rush to get a book draft done for Stanford
  7. I eat too much cheese

In light of all that, guess what my resolution is?!

Yup, to work on my health! These are some of the ways (nothing radical here–after all, I want this to work):

  1. Veggies at least 3 times a day
  2. Veggies prepared in new healthy ways
  3. Keep both spinach and kale in the house at the same time–and use it
  4. Fruit–try to “gut it” at least once a day (I know, I know, but fruit creeps me out with its bruises, hidden bugs, and sudden rotting)
  5. Never more than one soda a day and try to skip it sometimes
  6. Walk every day (and buy one of those step counting technogizmos)
  7. Stationery bike at least 4x a week (because of my recovered foot I am not allowed pressure on the foot as in running, dancing, etc)
  8. Learn to use the elliptical already . . .  (this exists in my own house!!)
  9. Keep up the other exercise
  10. Limit cheese to one serving a day
  11. Limit chicken and fish to 1-2 servings a day (I don’t eat other meat and am not a big fan of chicken either, for ethical reasons)
  12. Try some new things, such as almond butter
  13. Figure out a healthy and flavorful way to get my breakfast protein (I am a person who needs warm protein-rich food for breakfast and can’t eat cereal, etc.)
  14. Forget the truffle instead of dessert idea. I looked at the nutritional guide on the package. 26% of my daily fat allowance in one of those little balls!

Any other ideas, folks? Nothing too crazy, please ;).

Oops, and champagne (note: champagne is fruit so all is well) contains zero fat, so I can add that to my diet!!!  Happy New Year!

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by | December 29, 2014 · 6:44 am

You Know What Makes Me Mad?

I’m so sorry that my blog reading has lagged lately. I’m desperately trying to get that book draft done for Stanford by the end of the month/year! I promise I will back in the swing of things very soon!

When I was in California last time I saw this beautiful tree with berries. I have no idea what kind of tree it is.

On the long and boring ride (through the desert) back from California, I suddenly remembered my pet peeve. Usually when people talk about pet peeves, I agree with some of what they say, but not all. But I don’t usually think in terms of having a pet peeve. Until I realized I do have one.

It’s when someone borrows a book from me and doesn’t return it!

Gah, I really hate that.

When I was a kid I had two Judy Bolton books. Do you know what those are? They are like Nancy Drew, but way better. Judy was a redhead with two cute boyfriends (sometimes at the same time). The books were written by an actual writer, Margaret Sutton, not a team of ghost writers (like Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys). A girl in my neighborhood who I had a very short-lived friendship with borrowed one of my two JB books. I had already read it twice, but loved it. She didn’t return it. I started to get very anxious about the book, and eventually my dad went over to her house to ask for it back. There were only children at home when we got there, and they refused to let my dad in the house, although he was very insistent. I never did get it back. It wasn’t replaceable as the book, I’m pretty sure, was out of print. It had been one of my mother’s books.

When I was in junior high I listened to John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley (memoir or fiction? that would be another post!) read (by whom, I can’t remember) on the radio and loved it. So when I was in high school I selected his Grapes of Wrath. Although the book was dark and sad, I loved it and loaned it to the boy who sat in front of me in history class. He refused to give me the book back. His backyard backed up to my neighborhood and I used to go by the back of his house and throw it dirty looks.

Much more recently I loaned (against my better judgment) my copy of Marni Nixon’s autobiography to my piano teacher. I LOVED that book as I have been a long time fan of Nixon’s. She was the singing voice for Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady, Deborah Kerr in The King and I, and Natalie Wood in West Side Story. My teacher never returned the book. I quit piano.

OK.

I know this is dumb. Books are just THINGS. People are more important than books.

Sigh.

Anybody else this nutty about their books? Please ‘fess up.

 

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