I am grateful to the Eunoia Review for publishing two of my poems. One of them is quite grumpy but tangential to Scrap. That is “Goulash.” The other one, “Loss, The Word,” is even grumpier. It’s just plain grumpy as all get out.
Feel free to share this post on your social media if you relate to one of these poems.
Filed under #ScrapSalvagingFamily, Health, Literary Journals, Poetry, Publishing, Writing
So much has happened lately. I went to the Wisconsin Dells with my family for a week and just got back. I took a tumble while I was there. My third one, hitting my head as usual. I’m ok. Hudson had his best life (for now) there.
On his first plane ride
At the lakeshore, on boats, at deer park, and especially the WAWEE PARK!
We had a baby mourning dove (so cute) rescue at the house before we left for Wisconsin. I hope he’s doing well at Liberty Wildlife!
Kathryn Kulpa of Cleaver Magazine interviewed me about Scrap.
A CONVERSATION WITH LUANNE CASTLE, AUTHOR OF SCRAP: SALVAGING A FAMILY by Kathryn Kulpa
And LatinosUSA-English Edition has published two of my ekphrastic tanka sequences.
I still have lots of unpacking and email catching up and I am SO TIRED. Living with a 2-year-old for a week hahahahahaha.
Filed under #ScrapSalvagingFamily, Family, Grandparenting, Interview, Poetry, Publishing
While I think of my new memoir Scrap as being hybrid (a mix of genres, such as flash, poetry, playscript, essay) with flash the predominant genre, I thought I’d look at references to poetry in the book.
I mention how much I loved Edna St. Vincent Millay poetry when I was young. This poem, which she wrote when she was nineteen years old, I listened to over and over again on an LP album.
“Renascence” is a dramatic poem, perfect for reading aloud, much different from the short and pithy Emily Dickinson poems I also read in my late teens. Here is one I remember reading in high school lying on my bed:
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
I also mention Omar Khayyam, not for his poetry, which I didn’t know at that age, but because I knew of him and his Rubaiyat and ate dinner at a restaurant named after the poet. Khayyam was a Persian poet who lived one thousand years ago.
Most significantly in Scrap is a reference to Anne Sexton and “The Starry Night.” Here is the poem:
The Starry Night
“That does not keep me from having a terrible need of—shall I say the word—religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars.” Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brother
I once wrote a poem that ended with a man astounded at witnessing “a woman / blaze from the womb.” If ever an entire poetry book witnesses women blazing, it’s Carol Willette Bachofner’s new collection, Every Place I Look. Whereas I had only hinted at the phenomenon, Bachofner embraces it, even subtitles the group of poems, “women with embers at their feet.”
I’m sure it seems odd to start a review with a quote from my own poem, but I feel so connected with Bachofner’s new work that it’s as if the poems are siphoned from my heart—or, conversely, as if they fill my heart with their truths.
The theme of Eve and the apple runs throughout, as poem after poem documents what women have been had to deal with, starting with the mythology that she is created from Adam’s unimportant rib. Eventually, Bachofner has it out with the myth in the poem “Rib and Other Fantasies.”
We are not bone of anyone but ourselves,
not stolen property of biblical proportions.
My favorite lines are in this poem:
Why
think we are spilling used blood? We are cleansing
ourselves, making our inner home a temple.
For ages, men held to the notion that menstruation proved that women were inferior, even dirty. But, no, instead we are self-cleaning, creating something holy.
Brava to Bachofner for this thought-provoking, radiantly feminist poetry collection, Every Place I Look: women with embers at their feet. Drag your feet through the embers to find a copy for yourself!
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You can purchase a copy of Every Place I Look at the publisher’s website here:
First person (with an address in the U.S.) who responds in the comments below with the name of the poem and the page number (from Doll God) with the woman blazing from the womb, I will send you a free copy of Carol Bachofner’s new book! I will keep the comments open to give you plenty of time to find the poem (and the book–I realize it’s been eleven years)! (Hint: it’s not that hard to find the poem if you start at the beginning of Doll God).
Filed under Book Review, Poetry, Poetry book, Poetry Collection
I haven’t been very available on here in the past few months. A lot of my time has been taken up with my mother’s affairs (financial, medical, moving arrangements). Last week she moved into Memory Care, and it’s been a very difficult journey there–and her adjustment is, as she described, rough. My mom still knows everyone very well, can discuss family news, etc. but she doesn’t know which day of the week it is–or the date. She has hallucinations. It’s a horrible kind of limbo to be in since she understands so much.
Coincidentally, today Editor Barbara Harris Leonhard published a story I wrote before I knew this would happen to my mother. Missing His Birthday This story is dedicated to my mom.
On this double pub day, Editor Nolcha Fox has published three of my poems. Three Poems
The middle poem is another Little Red that I wrote after the publication of Our Wolves.
I’m grateful for my brother who moved my mom and visits her often. We’re a team. I do all the stuff that can be done long distance, and he does the in-person.
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Welcome to 2026! I’m not asking for amazing things for the year; I’d just like it to be gentle with me.
2025 was difficult, although I did have some writing successes in journals, have been working with the small press, ELJ Editions, that will be publishing my flash memoir, and had my manuscript inspired by painter Remedios Varo accepted by Shanti Arts.
*Scrap: Salvaging a Family, a hybrid flash memoir, will be out March 20, 2026
*Hunting the Cosmos, flash fiction and poetry for Remedios Varo, will be out fall 2026
I should have a cover reveal soon for Scrap. Can’t wait to share it with you!!!
The problem with the new year, though, is it springs from the old and all the unresolved issues of 2025 will go on in 2026. My mother’s dementia is one of those things. Taking over her affairs is very stressful and time-consuming, but worse is the dilemmas of communication with my mother. I can still have good conversations with her if I ignore the little idiosyncracies (the “critters” that have taken up residence in her apartment, but can only be seen by her), hearing about her going to a service two hours early and waiting for others to show up, etc.
Both Perry and Meesker have serious health issues. As you may remember, Perry was diagnosed with issues two years ago, but I don’t like to talk about it. All I can say is I am constantly feeding sick cats who need food all day long and cleaning up diarrhea, pee outside the box, and dramatically hurled vomit. And Lily still hates Sloopy Anne. Last night she threw herself violently against the gate we have up to keep them apart, trying to get to Sloops.
2025 was productive for me for writing, up to a point. I haven’t written anything for weeks now. Between grandbaby duty, my mom’s stuff, and these cats (on top of regular work and business), I’ve been too busy and very tired.
I read some good mystery series this year, though, as that’s a good way for me to unwind. Actually, I read far more than I usually do, but then I did have hip replacement surgery in May, so mysteries helped out a lot when I was suffering before the surgery and then during the recovery. Here are the series: Yorkshire Murder Mysteries by J.R. Ellis; Dark Yorkshire, Misty Isle, and Hidden Norfolk by J.M. Dalgliesh; Rev. Clare Fergusson and Russ Van Alstyne Mysteries by Julia Spencer-Fleming; Duncan Kincaid and Gemma James Mysteries by Deborah Crombie; China Thrillers, Lewis Trilogy, and Enzo Macleod by Peter May; DCI Craig Gillard Mysteries by Nick Louth. (To give you a clue, I am a fan of Louise Penny, Ann Cleeves, and Elly Griffiths, and the series I’ve listed here are more like the Griffiths and possibly the Cleeves than the Penny books. The Spencer-Fleming series is a lot like the Elly Griffiths’ Ruth Galloway books, notably because of the hot love affair in the middle of the mysteries.
In addition, I read some wonderful stand-alone novels and poetry collections. I reviewed just a few of them for this blog. If I reviewed your book in 2025 and didn’t list it, please let me know!
A Gorgeous Collection Combining Genres of Poetry, Genealogy, and History
Book Tour Stop: Book Review of Deborah Brasket’s When Things Go Missing
Just got a call from my son. He miscalculated the days this week and asked if I could watch Hudson again tomorrow. Sure! (Good thing I fell asleep on New Year’s Eve at 8PM). The other night the Gardener put together a tricycle for Hudson. He’s almost two, and his feet barely reach the pedals, but we can work on learning to pedal a bike again tomorrow. 🙂
Let’s work on making 2026 a tender, playful, happy year! If we all puts our heads and hearts together . . . .
Filed under #amreading, #AmWriting, Book Review, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Nonfiction, Memoir, Poetry
For Robbie Cheadle’s challenge at #TankaTuesday challenge I’ve written a double tanka about my childhood Christmas Eves.
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Church bells ring-a-linged
We walked through the candy canes
in the crisp-aired park
Flakes coating our hair and coats
Sliding ourselves to the first house
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Progressive dinners
Mom’s aunt’s house, then her uncle’s
Grandma baked desserts
Worst part was the oyster stew
Now my fondest memory
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Eight years ago I decided to investigate this Christmas eve oyster stew phenomenon for my family history blog. My mother’s maternal family were the ones who celebrated with the progressive dinners and the oyster stew (a pan of milk and oysters essentially until my husband joined the family and added spices and seasonings). That family was half Dutch and half Pomeranian (an area on the Baltic that was part of Prussia, although the genetics of the German-speaking people (before WWII when they were kicked out of Poland) was actually Slavic. Anyway, the Pomeranian “half” was through the women, so that’s where I thought the tradition must come from. Here is the link to my post. Keep in mind one of the links within the article is now dead. A Christmas Tradition from the Old Country
To my knowledge nobody in the family carries on this tradition. We have all created new holiday traditions with our children.
Did your family have a tradition that seemed to pull the family together like this that is now nearly forgotten?
Filed under #bloggingcommunity, #poetrycommunity, #TankaTuesday, Poetry, Syllabic Poetry
I used to say I wouldn’t read ebooks because I loved real books. Then I needed to read some because the books written by some friends were only available for Kindle. Before long, I needed larger font and a bit of backlighting. The last blow was that I was diagnosed with macular degeneration. Now I LOVE my Kindle, which is already an older model of Paperwhite.
These days I read much more on my Kindle than I do paperbacks. Yet all of my own books have only been available in paperback (and hard cover for Rooted and Winged). This is because the majority of poetry small presses continue to just offer paperback books.
But I started to wonder and then to investigate.
And now I have a book available as EPUB on Amazon!!! The publisher of Our Wolves was very helpful and willing to list the ebook on Amazon alongside the paperback. Available for $5.50, the price he chose. I am hoping that this makes the Red Riding Hood revision collection more accessible to more readers. (Fingers crossed that this version works well for most readers’ devices!!!)
P.S. update: I should have mentioned (humbly haha) that Our Wolves was First Runner-Up for the Eric Hoffer Award.
Filed under #OurWolves, #writingcommunity, Fairy Tales, Our Wolves, Poetry, Poetry book, Poetry Collection
Now that the days are not as hot in Phoenix–more like 85 than 105–I started up my daily walks again. I had to stop when my hip got so bad, but now that I’ve had the replacement there is nothing stopping me. I love the smells outside, although the last two days there has been an unfamiliar funky odor (possibly bobcat pee) in the air, as well as the usual perfume of flowers, grass, leaves, and sun-kissed concrete.
The intensely blue sky during my walk
Not being able to “show” you the smells annoys me. I can take photos and write words and even post audio if I want to. But I can’t post scent. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy adding olfactory descriptions in my writing; however, sometimes I’d just like to share how something actually smells. Or smell something my nose can’t reach.
This brings me to what I was thinking when I woke up yesterday. I’ve always loved history and as a kid used to wonder what it would be like to have lived in a different time period. Or to visit, even invisibly. Choose a time period. How about 1515 CE? What would it have stank like? I think even if I arrived in my time shuttle inside a palace that I would be gasping for air. I’d be holding an entire bottle of Gris Dior up to my face. I’d have to keep a little puke bag handy. I’m sure I’d be begging to come back to the present time. And that’s with palace peeps, not inside the hut of a poor person.
Yes, this is the kind of thing I think when I wake up in the morning. Maybe because I’m not writing every day. If I do write daily, then I’m apt to think of a story or poem while I’m still in bed. But I have finished my Remedios Varo-inspired ekphrastic chapbook. Gosh, I hope I can find a publisher for it. It’s hybrid, being both fiction and poetry, so that makes it harder to find publishers to submit to.
And, in other news, my hybrid flash memoir, Scrap: Salvaging a Family, should be available from ELJ Editions in March! Watch for cover reveal and so on in the future. If you are a blogger and would like to participate in a blog tour this spring, send me an email at luanne[dot]castle[at]gmail[dot]com. You can post a review or I can write a companion post to my book for your blog. I can get you a pdf. Here’s a link to publisher’s page: ELJ Editions forthcoming.
On the cat front, it’s been all puke/pee/poo/puke/pee/poo. If you plan to have multiple cats, try to space out their ages a bit so you don’t end up with all seniors at the same time. (just kidding, sort of)
In less than a week my grandson will be 21 months old! I can hardly believe it. He’s such a delight. He went on vacation to the beach and loved every moment.
I’m introducing a new poetry-slash-flash nonfiction book by a debut writer, Kathi Crawford. I had the honor of writing a blurb for the back of the book.
Kathi Crawford’s debut chapbook Consider the Light, hybrid memoir in poetry and flash, shines a beam into the liminal spaces of a woman’s life. The collection examines transition periods and disruptions as Crawford recreates herself and her future at each of these junctions. As the child of working-class parents, she muses, “I need to save my family,” but as she grows older and must deal with her own problems, she takes what she can learn from others, such as self-discipline from her beloved Nanna, while forging a fierce independence. Crawford’s distinctive voice and story take the reader on a unique journey while offering whispers of familiarity to many who have faced similar hurtles. You won’t want to miss this engaging new voice.
Here’s the Amazon link. What a gorgeous cover, am I right? CONSIDER THE LIGHT – AMAZON
The cover artist is Brooke Summers-Perry. Here’s her Instagram:
https://www.
I think you will really enjoy this one, even if you tend not to read poetry. Here’s the book description:
consider the light is a hybrid memoir in poetry and flash nonfiction that traces one woman’s journey from her 1960s Rustbelt upbringing to a life of creative and professional fulfillment in Texas. Born into a working-class family shaped by grit and sacrifice, Kathi Crawford navigates decades of transformation-personal, cultural, and emotional-while forging her own path toward career success and lasting love.
Through moments of grief, reinvention, and unexpected grace, this collection illuminates the resilience required to see the best in each situation and in each other. With language that is spare, evocative, and deeply felt, Crawford invites readers to reflect on what it means to belong, to endure, and to choose light even when the shadows linger.
This debut book speaks to anyone who has wrestled with identity, loss, or longing-and found, in the struggle, a deeper kind of beauty. It’s a testament to the power of memory, the strength of women’s voices, and the healing potential of story. A compelling read for fans of women’s memoirs, personal transformation, and poetry about grief, hope, and resilience.
And you can read a little about Kathi here:
With a career spanning decades in organizational development, Kathi Crawford founded People Possibilities, LLC in 2008. She is an IAC-certified master coach who has worked with hundreds of clients one-on-one through leadership, career, and life transitions.
Alongside her business career, Kathi actively writes poetry and flash creative nonfiction. Her work has been featured online and in print in a variety of literary journals. Her chapbook, consider the light, is available from Finishing Line Press. This mini-memoir invites readers to embrace their flaws, honor resilience, and cultivate empathy for themselves and others, offering yet another avenue for Kathi to foster understanding and connection.
You can find Kathi on Instagram or LinkedIn @kathicrawford and subscribe to her blog @ kathicrawford dot com.
