New Year’s Eve reflections about life in the dark

Posted on December 31, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come whispering, “It will be happier.”
Alfred Lord Tennyson

I wrote my last post about light on the darkest day of the year. Today, the eve of a new year (New Year’s Day in some places already), is supposed to be all about light and hope. And in spite of my optimistic Winter Solstice resolutions about hoping without reason and loving without expectation (and I intend to stick to those, I promise), I cannot help but think about the previous New Year’s Eves when I threw open my front door to welcome those years into my life:

New Year’s Eve 2019: The end of a decade, the beginning of a new one! (uhhh…guess what 2020 has in store? Pandemic.)

New Year’s Eve 2020: God, I’m glad this year is over, let’s move on! (still pandemicking…and personal crap broke me…)

New Year’s Eve 2021: Well, that year sucked. Let’s try next year on for size! (still pandemicking and the personal crap intensified…)

I think it’s best to approach the end of 2022 without expecting too much from 2023. Instead, let’s look inside for the change we need. That’s why I intend to stick to my two Winter Solstice resolutions.

Hope. Even when it’s dark and it’s been dark and you’re bone cold and can’t imagine warmth ever again. Hope because if you believe the light is coming, maybe it will. If you give up on it, though, you will never see it even if it does come.

Love. Let love be its own reward. Love your family if you’re lucky enough to have them. Love the people around you. Love things. Love music. Love a flower that peeks up through the sidewalk if that’s the only thing you can find to love. Love the feel of the sun when it shines. Just love because it feels good to love and it will give you strength.

I will still open the door at midnight on New Year’s Eve. I will welcome the new year with hope even if there’s no reason to. I will love the new year, but I won’t expect anything from it. Because life is indifferent to me, and I will have to accept it all…good and bad…regardless. But if I believe the light is coming, at least I’ll have my eyes open when it does.

Winter Solstice reflections about life in the light

Posted on December 22, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

Yesterday was an important day that often goes unnoticed. In the Northern Hemisphere, it was the darkest day of the year. Winter Solstice.

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve loved the idea of the Winter Solstice. I remember my mother always marked it. She was one of those people whose mood is affected by the light. The darkness of winter depressed her, so the Winter Solstice was a time of change for the good. Because every day after would be brighter. The days are getting longer now, she’d say in the hopeful voice I loved to hear.

Yesterday was a good day for me. I almost forgot it was the shortest day of the year because it seemed bright. Good news, new music, a great day at my store and time with my kids…when I looked at my watch and saw it was almost time for the solstice, though, I knew I needed to mark it. Because every chance I get to make things brighter, I need to take it.

So at 4:48 p.m. I lit a candle. I burned it until midnight and I tried to picture my life…brighter. I came up with two resolutions.

I will hope without reason.

I will love without expectation.

I think if I can hold onto these two resolutions, I can live a brighter life. Too often we wait for life to give us a reason to hope. If we can just hold hope in our hearts, we can live in the light more often. I don’t know what you hope for. I’m sometimes not even certain what I hope for. But I know without hope for something, we might as well curl up and die. So hope.

And loving without expectation is something we all struggle with, I think. I’ve always found it easy to love…things, people, places, pets, food. But in loving, I too often expect something in return. I have a plan in mind for my love, a path it should follow, rewards I should get in return for it, whatever. But I don’t control the object of my love, so I cannot control the results of my love and am often disappointed. Love itself has to be the reward, and if I can achieve that, I will surely live brightly.

I’m sure these two resolutions are not unique. Buddha or Gandhi probably came up with them long ago. Perhaps this is what they tried to teach me in Sunday School when I was a child. Is this what faith is? Or is it just the ramblings of a middle-aged would-be poet? You decide. It won’t matter to me. I’ll be over here hoping for a brighter future and loving you.

I’ll be in the light if you’d like to join me.

Dead Butterfly on a December Sidewalk

Posted on December 17, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

It’s cold here today. Yesterday it was mid 60s. This morning? In the 30s. That’s why it wasn’t really surprising to see a dead butterfly on the sidewalk. Poor insect is as confused as I am about the weather. Yesterday, shirtsleeves, today, winter coat. But he didn’t have a winter coat. He was frozen but still beautiful.

It reminded me of poetry. Is that morbid? Definitely dark. But then, I’m one of the best poets you’ve never heard of, and I’m thinking it might be difficult for many people to name ten living poets off the top of their head, anyway. Because poets don’t become household names anymore.

Robert Frost said, “Poetry is a way of taking life by the throat.”

Carl Sandburg said, “Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.”

Considering the competition between these two poets, sometimes one-sided, it’s not surprising that these two poets had very different views of poetry. What has always intrigued me was that people paid attention to that rivalry. It was a different time, I suppose. These days, poetry is a hard sale. I see it every day in my store. I have shelves of used poetry—some modern, some classic—in my bookstore. I also have a section of local poetry, including my own.

It’s the classic poetry people still want. Byron, Dickinson…Frost, Sandburg. I understand that want. Those poets wrote about things that aren’t our reality. They’re a higher brow type of escapism than bestselling fiction. I myself have two poetry books sitting on my desk right now. One is The Complete Haiku of Matsuo Basho and the other is A Little Treasury of Modern Poetry (published in 1950). I study haiku, so that’s my excuse for that one, but I love the pastoral themes of past poets. I adore reading about love and beauty and passion as if I hadn’t a care in the world.

But I know modern poets are important. We are dreamers and truth speakers, but when we put those dreams of truth out into the cold December mornings, there’s the danger that they may die of the cold.

Photo by Michelle Garren-Flye

Promoting Learning Curve

Posted on December 2, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

I’ve been making up some graphics to help me promote Learning Curve, which will have its official release day next week. If you can’t wait, you can order it on Amazon now, of course, but if you’d like a signed copy, my bookstore is the place to come, specifically next Friday from 5-8 p.m. (although any other of my open times works as well).

Here’s a bite-size tidbit to help you decide if you want to join me on the learning curve of life…

Welcome to December. What should I write?

Posted on December 1, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

Happy December! It’s cold today. My hands are cold as I type. But it doesn’t usually stay cold here for long. Tomorrow will be warmer. Maybe I’ll find something else to write. Any suggestions?

Learning Curve is coming soon!

Happy Thanksgiving…have a fortune cookie?

Posted on November 24, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

I’ve picked up an interesting tradition? habit? madness? (You pick)

Every few days I have a fortune cookie. And I either shrug off the fortune inside or spend the next few days pondering it. Yesterday I got a fortune that read “A person who wants to sing will find a song.” (Or something to that effect. I think I lost the fortune…)

That one has stuck with me. Because it’s true, and I have spent far too much time living my life for wishes to think it isn’t. Because I can make as many wishes as I want, but there’s no wish fairy out there fulfilling them. Wishing is, quite simply, a way to focus my intent on something I want.

I want success, so I’m finding ways to make it happen.

I want happiness, so I’m learning to concentrate on the things I have in my life that make me happy. (And deal with the things that don’t without letting them upset my apple cart.)

I want a cherry red Ferrari for free— Okay, maybe not. (Adam Sandler fans will get that one.)

I’m still looking for the song I want to sing. I will have to write it myself, and I know that it won’t be easy, it won’t look exactly like I once pictured, and it won’t be the only thing in my life.

Nobody’s life is filled with one thing. It’s mixed up with the good and the bad, but if I want the good, I can choose it. If I want to be happy, I’ll find that happy in the middle of everything else. I can succeed if I’m willing to put in the work. And for this knowledge, among all the other good things in my life, I am grateful.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Learning Curve is at the printer: Want a peek?

Posted on November 19, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

I just sent my latest poetry book, Learning Curve, to the printer. This is the third poetry book in my Poietry Diaries series, my sixth poetry book overall. I think. If I counted them right…

Anyway, it’s done. I started this one in July. Now in mid November, almost exactly four months later, it’s done. And I’m proud of it. The poems are well written, edited and illustrated. The format of the book makes sense. I’ll be proud to have it on the shelf at my store. It’s a good addition to my repertoire.

Here’s the blurb for it:

Learning Curve is a contemporary collection of poetry written in the style of villanelle, originally a rustic Italian song, later developed into a French form of short poetry and then into a format with a rigid and demanding rhyme scheme and format. Award-winning poet Michelle Garren-Flye takes on this form in the latest volume of her Poetry Diaries, taking the reader along on not only an emotional journey but also one that promises to introduce the reader to a beautiful form of song-like poetry that will delight and enchant any poetry lover.

Let the reader beware, however. As the poet acknowledges, poetry is the most true of any form of literature. If the truth is anywhere, it’s definitely in these pages.

And finally, it took me a while to decide on how to format this book. It’s a little different from my others. For one thing, I went with black and white again. I was going to go with all simple line drawings, which is more my forte anyway, but I wound up adding shades of grey (lol) to many of them. Here’s one I particularly like that I thought I’d share with you. If you like it, stay tuned. Release date will be announced soon!

Putting on my author hat…over my bookseller one.

Posted on November 16, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

This Sunday, November 20, I get to do something I don’t often get to do anymore. I’ll be just an author selling her books.

I’m not totally certain I remember how to do that…

Running a bookstore was a dream of mine for a long time. I used to haunt the two little bookstores in my hometown. The Book Nook was my favorite because it was used books that I could actually afford. (I did buy my first new hardback book there, though. Black Beauty and Other Horse Stories. It cost $15 and I still own it.) Highland Books was where I went to dream. I didn’t have enough money usually to buy the books, but the owners were tolerant and didn’t say anything if I curled up in a corner with a brand new science fiction novel they knew I couldn’t buy. I wonder how many people bought books there that I had already read?

But I digress. I dreamed of owning my own bookstore for a long time but I didn’t realize that when I got one, I couldn’t just be an author anymore. Yes, I write in my bookstore. And sometimes I sell one of my own books. I’m on the bestseller table here, so I do sell some here and there, and it’s definitely exciting when I do. But I’m mostly here to sell other people’s books.

On Sunday, however, I will be at the New Bern Farmer’s Market from 1-4 p.m. with a slew of other authors, all selling our own books! I’m planning to take all the books I have here at the store (well, maybe leave one copy of each on the shelf) and hope to sell them and maybe get some people reading my poetry.

And still I won’t be able to resist asking what kind of book people like to read. And I know enough of the other authors there so I’ll know if their books are a better fit than mine. And I won’t hesitate to send them that way…so it might not be that different from being in my little bookstore at all. 🙂

Bookbuilding: How it all falls together

Posted on November 6, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

It’s been a bit since I last updated. I’m busy busy getting Learning Curve finished up. Sometimes it amazes me how synchronous bookbuilding can be. I set out to write fifty villanelles. Actually, I set out to master the art of the villanelle, which is an accomplishment in itself. During the course of writing villanelles, it occurred to me that I could make a book out of them. It also occurred to me that two of my previous poetry books were actually the beginning of a series that Learning Curve could continue.

Synchronicity, man.

And now I’m putting together Learning Curve, and synchronicity seems to be more a factor than ever. I didn’t write the villanelles with any sort of organization or sections/chapters in mind. And yet, they seem to be dividing themselves up perfectly in groups of ten. Almost perfectly, anyway.

For me, this part of bookbuilding takes some time. I have been drawing all along while writing villanelles, and many of those illustrations are finding their way into my book. But I’m also drawing special illustrations for some of my poems. I’m putting together each page separately, just as I’ve done for past books, but I think I’ve gotten better at it.

Plus, it’s been very synchronous.

I just wrote the fiftieth villanelle.

Posted on October 29, 2022 by Michelle Garren-Flye

And that’s that.

Well, not quite. I’m a bookmaker, not just a writer. Now I am entering the phase of putting the book together. In some ways it’s more fun. In others, I miss the constant search for rhyme, the debate about rhythm, thinking in verse.

I’m trying something different with the illustrations this time. I’ll still have them. This is going to be a black and white book, though, so it will be less expensive. And I sort of felt like the color in my other books sort of interfered with the poetry. Maybe not quite as much with 100 Days as Hypercreativity, but some. And villanelle, man. Villanelle needs to be admired for what it is.

I had never heard of villanelle before July 16 of last year. I had just written Far & wee, my book of 20 sonnets. I felt fairly confident I had a good grasp of sonnet writing and I wanted to try something new. I asked on Facebook what kind of poetry I should try next and a friend suggested villanelle.

The more I researched villanelle and tried to write it, the more it became obvious that I’d have to write much more than twenty to come close to mastering the form. There’s so much to think about. Not only rhyme, but placement of the rhyme. And finding new rhymes. I mean, you could write ten to twenty villanelles with rhymes ending in -ay and -ate but it would get old. (Trust me.)

So this book is going to be a bit different, even, than the other two in my poetry diaries series. It documents what was going on in my life somewhat, but it’s also a literary journey for me. I’m learning how to write something new and hopefully you’ll be able to see that I get better.

I know some of my favorite poetry that I’ve written thus far is in this book. I won’t tell you which ones they are. I’m also kind of fond of some of the illustrations, even though I don’t imagine I’ve improved that much in that respect. (That is not false modesty. I have improved, but only so far.)

So, I’m off to make a book. Hopefully I can have it done soon. Maybe even in a week or so.