Enjoy The Effie Effect by Eva Schegulla, a comic noir detective radio play/podcast that is sly, witty, and tons of fun!
Sharing this with you as part of Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays. Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2025/08/13/one-liner-wednesday-sounds-like-the-start-of-a-dickens-novel/
Eric Carle, beloved author/artist of The Very Hungry Caterpillar and many other books, lived in western Massachusetts where I grew up and I’m very happy that Bombas chose to honor his legacy with a line of socks for both children and adults.
Join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2025/07/30/one-liner-wednesday-i-heart-tomatoes/
In the first few seasons of The Late Show, Stephen Colbert did a recurring skit, then a best-selling book, called Midnight Confessions, in which he “confesses” to his audience with the disclaimer that he isn’t sure these things are really sins but that he does “feel bad about them.” While Stephen and his writers are famously funny, I am not, so my JC’s Confessions will be somewhat more serious reflections, but they will be things that I feel bad about. Stephen’s audience always forgives him at the end of the segment; I’m not expecting that – and these aren’t really sins – but comments are always welcome.
I am (perhaps overly) proud of my intellect.
It wasn’t always that way.
I was brought up with the ethos of “do the best you can” and the good fortune that my best fit in well with the expectations of schooling. That, coupled with a natural love of learning, landed me various honors. High school valedictorian, also attained by both my older and younger sisters. Phi Beta Kappa and summa cum laude at Smith College, where I was also the Presser Scholar in music my senior year. While I was thrilled to be recognized, I could chalk up the honors to my hard work and liberal-artsy curiosity rather than ascribing it to particular intelligence.
Developing pride came more as a self-defense mechanism when I was a young mom. I had chosen to be the full-time, at-home caregiver, facilitated by the time and place in which B and I were navigating parenthood. This was not, though, the lifestyle expected of a high-achieving, Seven-Sisters grad. Without the external validation of a paying job and in contravention of the “having it all” Super-woman model of the 1980s, I developed pride in who I was and what I chose to do – and do well, as I continued to do the best that I could – almost as a defense mechanism.
This quiet pride helped me navigate a number of challenges in our family life and in my volunteer work over decades, but pride is both a positive attribute and a “deadly sin.”
As many of you know, I’ve been struggling with a still-not-fully-diagnosed medical condition, now well into its second year, that has caused significant brain fog and fatigue. In particular, I’ve lost access to my creative side, which is a huge blow to my life as a poet, and my ability to research, synthesize, and think critically is diminished both in scope and duration.
It’s a difficult time in my life and made more so because my intellect has long been such a core part of my identity.
Who am I living with this disability?
How will I face the prospect of losing the life of the mind that I have cultivated and loved for so long?
I’ve been fighting my way through the medical maze to try to regain what I’ve lost but it’s not at all clear at this point that it will be possible. I also am facing the prospect that I could deteriorate further.
Can I remain proud of who I am?
I know the answer should be yes, in keeping with the dignity inherent in each person.
It remains to be seen if I can apply the grace I give to others to myself.
2025 Paterson Literary Review cover: Maria Mazziotti Gillan, Woman in Red Asian Shawl
Yesterday, I was thrilled to receive my contributor copy of the 2025 Paterson Literary Review. The link is to their site; the 2025 issue is not yet available to order but should be shortly.
For those of you who may not be familiar, the founding editor of the Paterson Literary Review is Maria Mazziotti Gillan, poet, editor, educator, artist, and Bartle Professor Emerita of English and creative writing at Binghamton University. I live in the Binghamton area and, while I never had the privilege of studying with her, many of the local poets that I have learned from through the Binghamton Poetry Project and through other local workshops were her students and often referred to her and used her books of prompts in our work together.
Having a poem in PLR is a dream come true for me. It’s an honor to be in the company of such distinguished poets. I’d start naming names but the post would go on too long and, with a 53 year history, I’d invariably leave out someone whom I should include.
My poem is “Giovanni” and is about my maternal grandfather. It’s part of my yet-to-be-published full-length collection, The Beyond Place, which centers on the North Adams, Massachusetts area, where I grew up and several generations of my family lived. The Hoosac Tunnel is part of the fabric of this poem.
Because of my health issues, I haven’t been able to do much poetry work, including submissions, for months. I submitted “Giovanni” last September and it was accepted in November, but, because the Paterson Literary Review is a huge undertaking to print – this edition has over 300 pages – it is just arriving now. It’s good for me to have a reminder that I am still acknowledged as a poet, even when I’m not able to do much work at the moment.
Thank you, Maria Mazziotti Gillan, for the honor of appearing in the Paterson Literary Review!
Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is “something that opens.”
Something that opens is my first chapbook, Hearts. In a shameless exercise in self-promotion, I’m using this post to draw attention to a post that I just finished about the second anniversary of Hearts.
Check it out!
A little over two years ago, Hearts, my first poetry chapbook was published by Kelsay Books. The poems center around my mother, concentrating on her final years as she lived with heart failure.
I know that many people are unfamiliar with the term “chapbook.” A chapbook is a short book that is usually organized around a central theme.
As someone who didn’t pursue poetry until later in life, I am honored to have a book in print. There are several ways to buy a copy: directly from Kelsay Books, from Amazon, on special order from any bookstore that has access to Ingram, or directly from me, in person or by mail. (Please send me an email at jcorey.poet@gmail.com to make arrangements.)
People who have been following my history as a poet know that I had very little formal coursework in poetry; I have developed my skills through the generous sharing of my poetry community, including the Binghamton Poetry Project, the Grapevine Poets, and the Boiler House Poets Collective.
What has been more difficult is developing the publicity skills needed to promote a book. I am by nature an introvert and struggle with self-promotion. I’m also not great with asking people to spend money. Unfortunately, there have been other obstacles in the form of personal and family health struggles that have kept me from doing a great job at selling my book.
I am very grateful for the friends – and the people who are unknown to me – who have read my book. I especially appreciate those who have reached out to me about Hearts, often sharing stories about their own loved ones. I write in order to connect with others and am deeply honored that my work resonates with them.
One thing that I hadn’t anticipated was what it feels like to lose friends who have read Hearts and written or spoken to me about it. It adds another aspect to their loss. I also wonder what will become of the copies that they had, especially when they are inscribed. I somehow imagine someone picking up a copy in a secondhand bookstore and wondering who the prior owner was and how I was connected to them.
I still hope to publish another book some day/year but I will always be pleased that my first book was about my mom.
And every time I see bleeding hearts, I think about Hearts and about her.
Photo Credit: Ellen Morris Prewitt
On December 7, 2024, I shared Ellen Morris Prewitt’s essay about the 150th anniversary of the Vicksburg Massacres.
Ellen is the granddaughter of the main instigator of the Massacres and has been sharing her experiences as she has researched her family’s involvement and grappled with the continuing legacy of racism.
Now, Ellen has a powerful essay entitled “Granddaughter of The Instigator” in the Juneteenth special edition of Salvation South, which delves further into her witness to the legacy of the Vicksburg Massacres on a community and personal level. This essay is an excerpt from her memoir-in-progress, Loving My Hateful Ancestors. You can read a post about the publication of the essay in Ellen’s Very Southern Voice blog and, while you’re there, subscribe to her newsletter and/or follow her blog.
I just realized that I keep referring to Ellen Morris Prewitt by her first name, as though we were acquainted in real life, but we only met each other through blogging. Her writing is so vivid and heartfelt, though, that I feel as if we know each other through our posts and our comments on each other’s blogs with a side of occasional personal emails.
I’m a fan of Ellen’s and invite you to join me!
I don’t drink coffee or alcohol or tea or soda, due to health issues. If I drink juices, I need to dilute them.
One of my more abstract poems is on the topic of drinks. It was published by Mania Magazine and you can find it here.
* Join us for Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday! Linda’s prompt this week was “drink.”
My calendar used to be filled with meetings, volunteer gigs, poetry workshops and readings, family events, and music rehearsals and concerts.
Now, it’s mostly medical appointments.
I am still holding on to singing with the Madrigal Choir of Binghamton. We are coming up on performance week, which will be a challenge with my diminished energy.
Maybe this next round of tests and specialists will get to a full diagnosis and some kind of treatment to improve my situation. I know that it is unlikely to be fully reversed but I’m trying to retain hope that I can bring back the most important abilities and activities I can’t manage now.
If that happens, maybe my calendar will have somewhat fewer medical appointments and more poetry – with some more travel to see family and outings with friends.
Maybe that can even happen later in 2025.
It depends on what happens with the tests and doctor visits that are in those calendar boxes this spring…
*****
Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “calendar.” Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2025/03/21/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-22-2025/
I remember reading Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday yesterday and thinking that I would pass this week because absolutely nothing came into my head, but, this morning, as I lay crumpled on my bed because taking a shower was too tiring and I’m trying to rest so I can participate in a poetry reading this afternoon, I thought I should post because I thought the prompt word was crumple but it was actually crackle, so never mind.
Yeah.
Brain fog.
*****
Please join us for Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday! Details at the link above.
Joanne Corey 