The spastic love child of Axl Rose and Sylvia Path

tesla_meLast week was the week I said, I was going to release my E-Book. Then I ended up getting called in for an interview for teaching a playwriting class and realized that I had an erasure poem I wanted to submit and the deadline was fast approaching…

so last week was not the week.

But as Scarlett O’Hara, a heroine that I despise would say, “tomorrow is another day.”

So barring anything crazy, this week will be the week.

But back to the erasure poem, I received work yesterday that it will be included in the project (I’ll post more later.) (I also got the job teaching kids play-writing! expect a blog on that later.)

I’m super excited. This was my first attempt at an erasure poem.  Erasure poems, for those who don’t know, is  a form of found poetry or found art created by erasing words from an existing text in prose or verse and framing the result on the page as a poem.

The project is going to be available on Silver Birch Press.

I found this sort of work, freeing in its constrictions. The project had a specific constraints on the topic as well as the page number you could pick. It was a puzzle for the artistic mind!

It also helped with my writer’s block. 🙂 I really do suggest it for people who can’t think of anything to write or who like to pretend like me that they are visual artists as well.

I think I might take a few books and just have at it. Who knows maybe I’ll come up with

 

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First publication of the new year

Good afternoon, Rachael!
 
I wanted to drop a quick note to you with good news!  Your monologue “The New Girl” has confirmed entry into Volume III of ‘interJACtions: Monologues from the Heart of Human Nature.’  Congratulations!
This greeted me in my inbox today!
jump

I was very excited to have this monologue published. It was originally a short story which I wrote during an exercise at University of Indiana.  It’s a dramatized piece about my experience of switching from a private Lutheran school (15 people in my class, all girls) to a public school.

Hopefully this year will continue to be a productive year for publishing (both indie and traditionally) for me!

Anyway, sorry for the brevity of this post, but I wanted to share the good news!

when creative writing isn’t fun anymore…..

Last week, as I finished my second play in as many weeks to send off to a competition in addition to sending off some poems and essays, I sat down and called me mother:

“writing these just wasn’t fun…..”

I was going to write today but my cat wouldn't let me

I was going to write today but my cat wouldn’t let me

An odd statement for me. I’ve been a writer for as long as I can remember typing away awful stories on my mother’s Apple 2. I wrote two novels in high school which probably will never see the light of day because well it was fun.

But as I finished last week, I realized that I was so stressed with perfection and trying to give my work the best chance it had to win and/or be published, that there was absolutely nothing fun about it.

So to remedy that, I’m starting an online series of pure fluff. I might self-publish it when I am done (have to one day turn this hobby into a job one day) but I’m not putting any pressure on myself. It’s just going to be like I’m back in high school, writing to express myself and entertain others!

Now what is this project? As many of you know, I wrote a short piece, Pemberley High which re-images Jane Austin’s classic in a modern high school. It was a very short piece, 500 words or less. I’m going to expand on it and turn it into a novella. The first installment should be up tomorrow unless something drastic comes up.  I’m not sure yet, I’ll probably post it to my main page then archive it under a tab.

I hope you enjoy it my readers! It should be a fun project 🙂

Acceptance!….and a poem

Euphemism, ISU’s literary journal came out. As I spent four years getting two degrees at Illinois State and a few years on the staff, this journal is a little baby to me which made it much all the more pleased that this year they accepted four of my pieces (two poems and two essays.) Over the next couple of weeks, I will post the work for you guys to enjoy! The first:

no light to come

Rachael Stanford

no light to come

I waited with razor blade eyes for a voice,
any voice, to tell me that can’t
could be undone.

waited, wrist atrophied
body pruning to death
amongst scented bubbles

to know
we is not are

not the doodles of remembrance
in our youthful futures.

unequivocal proof that is
isn’t only a perfect mess
potentially erased

is only is [sic]

but knowing that with wanting
what the answer could only be,
that even, if only, for the blink of an eye

even, if only, in the last lucent moments
before the drunkard stumbles
into their perpetual state of dis-existence
that we could never still be, but in—

if only

finding that never
sometimes is our only constant

the separation between you and I
exist besides grammatical purposes

(if only)

in a fractured corner of the Jungian mind
separated and immersed in
slipping words
chests of watery graves

(if only)

the pressure pushes
upon my breast

The neon lights
my heaven

Rejection

“I’m goin’

paper my walls

with rejection”

The next month, I plan on a publishing extravaganza, finishing my book of short plays for self-publishing and taking most of my existing work and submitting it to various magazines.

What shall come with it?

Rejection.

And some publication.

If I’m lucky moderate success.

rejection

The reality of the game is no matter how polished or amazing a piece is, if it doesn’t fit into a certain criteria (which sometimes is just bizarre and random) it will come back to you, along with a lovely form letter, or if you are lucky, a more personalized letter of rejection.

“Thank you, but at this time….”

My question to you, what do you do with rejection?

When I was younger, rejection bother me immensely; I felt as if a hand were slapping me across the face; but now, as I have accept this as an inevitable part of the art life, I think I want to take a more whimsical tone towards rejection.

In short, I’m going to make some art out of it ( finish my above started poem on rejection). If I get a fine enough collection of letters, maybe some wallpaper for my writing area.

Rejection should be taken with a grain of salt. Review your work, see if it needs to be rewritten and then move on and resubmit.

And  remember, if you are feeling down about a form letter rejection, remember you are not alone. Most famous (and not so famous) writers face the world of rejection.

A quick exciting announcement

Sorry to make this quick, but as I moved to a new house, not yet equipped with the internet, I have to make my blog post on my lunch break.

The Prairieland Theatre Company will present “Prairie Playwrights: Four Plays Three Authors at 7 p.m. on Friday, May 31 and Saturday, June 1 and at 2 p.m. on Sunday, June 2 at the Farmhouse Banquet & Event Center in Delavan.

This will include a piece of mine. I’ll have more information to follow!  I’m so honored to be included in this.

Welp, time for me to eat. I’ll post more information soon.

Rach

Chica Peeps

The sisterhood of female friendships is celebration in the Chica Peeps anthology. I was lucky enough to be accepted into this new sister of authorship with my tale of high school friends who have stood the test of time.

We might have started just as movie buddies, lusting after the hunky, alluring, sizzling and every other adjective to describe the perfect amount of hotness that God will allow in a body, Johhny Depp, but over the years, it have become the life blood of my sanity.

If you’d like to read more, click here!