Monthly Archives: October 2013

Who Walks Beside You

Hello Dearest Readers,

Tomorrow is the awesome day of Halloween. Just in time, comes out the latest issue of the lovely magazine Supernatural Tales. And, what’s that you say? You want me to say why I think this issue is extra exciting?

It features my story, “Who Walks Beside You,” in it! This is one of my favorite stories I’ve written and so I am delighted and honored that it found a good home.

You can check out ways to get your paws on a copy of the magazine (which features tons of lovely and spooky work in it) here: http://suptales.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/25-and-not-out.html

Please consider purchasing a copy of the magazine, literary journals are works of love and a lot of work goes into them, so support a good one (and your favorite cupcake-baking author) by getting a copy!

Happy Halloween y’all!

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This Tree was Made for Two

(for MR, because she told me to)

She says the one she loves is

a house with no windows, a corner

of the circular moon, a piece of unmarked

cash floating through the firework scented room

after the robbers have fled the scene

 

She says she believes in only 27

of the saints, that their miracles

are the only ones that make sense

and why are there so many saints

and she wonders aloud sometimes

if there is a saint of grocery store

aisles at midnight or of the cart

with crooked wheels or even

of the caterpillar that looks like

a sunbeam

 

She says that she will always be

on the lookout for the next great

heartbreaker, the next beautiful

tree with two holes drilled through it

because someone was looking for

the other side of the sky

 

She says the one she loves is

riding a train around in circles,

all across the north, and that when

the train finally reaches its station,

she will be there, counting her beads,

and waiting to catch the next

elevator from the roots of a tree

to the banks of the closest planet

in the farthest galaxy from here

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A Spell to Raise Your Other

To plant your feet under

will only serve

to rot you at the roots.

 

And I cannot promise

that in this world

I will love you but

in another

I might, I really might.

 

You cast stones across

the lake hoping

that skips across water

were the same as walking.

 

And I won’t pretend

that I didn’t wake

up some nights

asking for you

to come back up breathing

I did, I really did.

 

To let your body sink

where the fishes go

will only turn you wild.

 

And I never said

that I would raise

your body from

the dead like

you begged me to

I didn’t, I really didn’t.

 

 

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Like train stations and model airplanes

Are you just sad again with the crumbling walls

and the garden in back that no one knows how

to open the gates of? How many times have things

struck you as heartbreaking when others think

they are childish and light, how many times

does Oz seem filled with unimaginable loss

and every episode of Doctor Who seem at its core

about the impossibility of saving everything,

about the loneliness? And don’t you get it yet

that the stories about fairy kingdoms were

true in their way, all those children stolen

for years, that wasn’t meant to make you

scared, it was meant to give you hope?

And the stories you found most frightening

as a child were the ones about paradise,

the ones where people got to spend one

night there and then woke up having been

gone a hundred years and they would look around

themselves at the world they now belonged to,

and everyone they had ever known was gone,

and everything was different.

You always refused to close

your eyes after those stories, afraid you’d wake

up and might never even notice

the change.

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the 4 stages of possession

Here’s that thing again where I get the sense

that we both believe in ghosts but only one

of us knows why and that you are

 

easily lost amongst library shelving,

and the scent of books and dust

does nothing for you, except smell

of the past and I am lost again in

the stacks, running my fingers over

spines and here and here and here

 

are the ones I loved and how much

do you think of yourself as lived in

instead of living? Is it a weight I will

feel lifted from me, like a sword

out of stone and am I the only one

who wondered how the stone felt?
What relief that must have been, a sliver

finally released. And maybe

 

this is again a difference insurmountable

between us that you talk about the color

of someone’s hair after years of them having run

and I wonder about the other

names for exorcism and discover that they

are also known as releasement.

 

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Like a way of keeping count

My love knows nothing

save for the twelve ways

to make a princess dance until

her shoes turn to dust upon her feet

and it is midnight somewhere and someone

else is always dancing at every point in time

 

And do you remember the weight

of the skin on your skeleton and how

heavy it felt when you thought of witches

who could cast their skins aside and the salt

you kept on your tongue still melts, no matter

how cold you think you are getting

 

Who is the voice of reason when the sun

no longer remembers how to set and just

hangs in the sky like it has been painted

into place and remember the canvas

was not always filled with light and the oils

dripped and the trees were created

from spatters of color never meant

to have been used

 

And my love knows nothing

of the way winter feels colder

when the sun is brightest and the ice

that coats the trees makes them break

and the salt tries to keep the ice from

you but nothing melts and so we keep

dancing until we crumble

like stars that have been dead

for years and yet still shed enough

light to let you find your way home.

 

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10 things-October 2013 edition

I haven’t done one of these in a while. But here are 10 things that are currently keeping me sane (which is a heavy task between writing a novel, taking my MFA classes, teaching college composition, and maintaining the high levels of self-AWESOME that everyone is accustomed to from me).

1.)    Donna Tartt has a new novel out (and I’ve ordered it). Ms. Tartt is basically a flat out badass. The Secret History, her first novel, is often cited as being her best. And it is amazingly brilliant. But, her second novel The Little Friend, is one of my favorite novels of all time. In the years since it was first published, I have read it five or six times. It is exquisite and sublime and if her new novel The Goldfinch comes anywhere near to its wonderfulness than I am going to be one happy clam. Here’s a conversation between her and her editor that was up on Slate.

2.)    Daniel Alarcon has a new novel coming out this month, too! Like, what? It is a bountiful month indeed. Alarcon’s first collection, War by Candlelight, was filled with gorgeous stories including one of my top 100 “A Strong Dead Man.” His novel, Lost City Radio, is on my list of best first novels. So basically all I have for this one is ridiculously high expectations. Here’s some more info from Alarcon’s website.

3.)    The Pinocchio lizard, believed extinct, was recently spotted. Gorgeous, no? Here is an article up on National Geographic!

4.)    I have been getting back to baking. I was thrown off by starting school up, but, now I am into pumpkin scones and deliciousness full speed ahead. This weekend will be chocolate-stout cupcakes!

5.)    I am hard at work on the novel. Stage magicians are in this. STAGE MAGICIANS. That should just make everyone happy.

6.)    I have a prose poem coming out soon from Cease, Cows and one of my favorite ghost stories that I’ve written will be in the winter issue of Supernatural Tales. These are both wonderfully fantastic publications. So, I’m doing the happy dance of writerly acceptances.

7.)    I started a new interviewy project of Extremely Brilliant Creative People and so far have had the chance to interview the fabulous Dan Pankratz and the amazing ean weslynn. Next month, there will be a pretty awesome poet being interviewed too, so stay TUNED.

8.)    I have found out that the town I’m now living in not only has a shop with a pretty kickass puppet collection but that there is also a store that carries treacle. Treacle tarts will be made. I have wanted to make them since I first read Harry Potter and I could never find proper treacle. Until now. Sound the freaking trumpets!

9.)    Squashes are out. And squash season means one thing: ravioli. From scratch.

10.) My people continue to be amazing and as always a moment of thanks for having them in my life. Plus, then I have someone to make food for. It is win-win.

So, not all is bad in the world of Pints and Cupcakes. This seems a good time to remind all you, Dear Readers, that if you want more daily updates and rantings than consider following me on Twitter @PintsNCupcakes

 

Happy October!

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