some news

maybe our childhood obsessions are fated blueprints of our futures

in my childhood i scrawled and illustrated page after page, used cardboard and contact-paper to construct hardcover books. i wrote constantly growing up. in college, i studied creative writing, after which i started working in book publishing. certainly, editing/writing professionally was taxing, but that creative fervor had left me. was writer’s block a thing? what happened to the creative impulse that had defined me for so many years prior? wondering if i needed curriculum and assignments to write towards, i enrolled in grad school to force my hand; certainly, it was a good reminder that discipline was part of the equation.

the truth i understand now is this: while my creativity is often as a byproduct of hyper-focus or obsession, it benefits from rigor and structure. only recently has my practice of writing become one of ritual and prioritization. i try really hard to write a couple days every week. accountability helps, as does making things “real” like any other kind of project. for me, this includes personal writing goals and external pressure, like deadlines and submitting for publication. again, discipline. sometimes i am hard on myself for failing.

in 2021, i joined a couple of writer’s groups for workshop, including an incredible group of poets (organized by one of my oldest and dearest friends from LJ, which is extremely on brand for us both). i wasn’t consciously building a body of work; i was just pleased to be engaging with words regularly again. i was also reading a ton and had eased back into involvement with literary community and events.

but i had, in fact, been building a body of work. and now, the fruits of that labor means i have a debut poetry chapbook called Root Rot due out next month. if you’re unfamiliar with chapbooks, they’re bite-sized poetry collections (this chap clocks in at 40 pages), often centering around a theme or experience.

umm hi ISN’T SHE GORGEOUS?? (2023, Cooper Dillon Books)

this collection of poems was written during the pandemic, a time also fraught with health issues and looming anxiety for me. many of the pieces are about grief, revelry, and the fear of losing the people and places i care about.

these poems leaving my personal, internal world for one of print and public access is uncomfortable and surreal, but when i take a beat and think about each piece as an individual memory or place, i feel braver. some of these are my strongest poems and i’m honored and excited to get to share them with y’all. (and if you are interested in reviewing or featuring this collection, leave a note in the comments or send me an email.)

NOTE: if you are local (portland) and/or will be at AWP (seattle) next month, you can pre-order my chapbook here through 3/1 and i’ll coordinate a drop off. otherwise, you can order here and the good folks at cooper dillon will take care of you. i plan to send another newsletter out when the book is launched later in march.

i hope you are all doing well, enjoying the creations of others, and prioritizing the creations of your own. and a very happy lundi gras, to those who celebrate.

<3,

rhienna