Sioux the Stalker

           Sometimes I stalk writers in person. When I saw him at a teacher's convention, I tried to kiss the big ring on John Reynolds Gardiner's hand like he was the Pope. I almost kneeled down. (Gardiner is the author of Stone Fox, a children's book that makes me cry every year when I use it in my class.)

       I've stalked publishers, via local authors. (Kristina Makansi--I'm talkin' 'bout you.) I've even stalked a friend who was plagued by postpartum depression. 

       Bloggers are the same. There are quite a few I follow. Many I love are loved by hordes of people. And others try to fly under the radar. Here are a few bloggers I stalk:

Hillbilly Mom

This writer is quite secretive. She lives in the same state that I do. She's a teacher (or so she says). But when you try to dig up the dirt on her, you come up with an empty shovel. Nowhere on her blog is her real name. It makes me wonder what she's trying to hide?

However, what she makes no move to hide is what goes on in her daily life. In her posts (that appear every day), she shares what her PITA of a husband does, what her kids are up to (occasionally) and what living in the country is like. Her writing reminds me of another writer's style... I just can't place it.

Fireblossom

Shay Caroline Simmons has more personalities than she has names. At least it seems like she's suffering from multiple personality disorder. Each one of her brilliant poems is searingly different. One day, she might post a poem that's bittersweet and tender. The next day? A poem that's bitter and biting, her lines spewing spittle.

Once I won a custom-made poem from Shay. I gave her the topic... she wrote the poem, and now it's hanging in my writing room. I typed it up in a large font, and created a custom mat for it. (Okay, what I really did was buy a mat and frame from a thrift store and decorated the mat with a marker... but I guarantee you, there's no other frame like it.) Here's the poem:

Damn the Match

I said, damn the match that set me on fire

But no one heard

so I fanned myself with books, and oh
How I burned.

Damn the one who made me feel nothingly small,
This lonesome girl--
Then I spit my anger on a black-curling page,
And blistered the world.

Damn the distance that keeps my love from me,
The miles are sin--
Then I wrote out my love as a pink-fire dawn,
Warm on her skin.

Bless the match that each finger is,
To strike what I feel into words that be
An incendiary flow from soul to sky,
One burned-bright star that's made from... me.

                                                                  --Shay Caroline Simmons


Mama Zen--Mama Zen/Kelli, like Fireblossom, is a poet. In fact, the two have collaborated on poetry collections. Also like Fireblossom, Mama Zen's poems seem to come from different people--the tone, the voice is so varied... and so succinct. This poet can write jaw-dropping pieces in way less than 50 words. (Many times I count them, because I'm so ticked off she can say so much with so few words.) 

So, I'm a stalker. I follow some writers (and some publishers) a little too closely. Sue me. 

Have you ever stalked a writer/celebrity? Have you ever been stalked by a stranger because you're a weirdo-magnet? Stalking minds want to know...

And the Winner Is...

       It took hours and hours to count, create, and tabulate the entries...hours, because there were hundreds of people interested in winning a book of poetry.
      Okay, it really only took a minute but the low number of entries isn't due to a lack of interest in Shay, Joy and Kelli's poetry. It's just that I have a small number of followers(but they are mighty).

      Here are the entries:

  

          Notice the fancy font I used to create the slips. My techno-skills are so amazing, I can make things appear like they were handwritten. I'm oh-so-clever that way.

         Who are you tryin' to fool? You wrote those names on slips of paper with some old, fat-tipped marker that you found in a drawer. And don't even waste your breath about using rafflecopter or some computer program to determine the winner. You folded each one in half, closed your eyes, stirred the slips up and then snagged one...

        And the winner is...

        Marcia, if you email your address, I will send the book your way. (And it's ironic that Marcia won this book. She and Shay have competed in at least one writing contest, and Shay swears that some day, she's "gonna get" Marcia.)

       (You'd better watch your back, Marcia.)

A Hat Trick, Baby

        Okay, my sports knowledge is severely limited, but I do know what a hat trick is. And these three poets are a fiercesome threesome...

      It's rare I order three copies of the same book. But when this trio of writers offered up yet another collection of their poetry, I couldn't help myself.

       One for me. One for a friend. And one to give away...



You can buy this book at Amazon if you don't win it.

       Their work is mercurial. It defies description--at least I am inept at describing it, except to say that their writing is fine. Really fine. 

        Since my tongue is tied (along with my keyboard apparently), I'm giving you a link to check out these writers (in case you're not familiar with them). And at the end of the month (April), I'll draw a name of the lucky winner--the winner of their own personal copy of Three-Note Howl: The Wild Hunt.

         Check out Kelli Simpson at her blog.  Read Shay Simmons' daily poetry offering on her blog. Get to know Joy Ann Jones by diving into her blog. And keep your fingers crossed...

          Leave comments to enter this fantastic giveaway. Leave a gross of them. Leave them often. (It won't increase your chances but it will amuse me.)

                                
                                (a little Emmylou Harris--in her younger years--for Shay)

A Winner...and a Reason to Squeal

        First of all, it's been a tough week, work-wise, so I am behind in posting this...Jennifer Brown Banks, of Pen and Prosper, won the book of poetry Gemini/Scorpio/Capricorn by Shay Simmons, Kelli Simpson and Joy Ann Jones.
It is phenomenal poetry--you won't regret purchasing it. (Jennifer, send me your address and I'll put it in the mail sometime this week.)

             Also, one of my favorite authors, Khaled Hosseini, has a new book out this month. I've been holding my breath (I'm Smurf blue, baby), waiting not very patiently, until I can get my paws on a copy and devour it like a jackal tearing apart a zebra.

         I meandered around the internet and discovered he's doing a book tour and is coming to Chaminade, in St. Louis, on May 30. (The cost of a ticket includes a copy of his new book.)

          I'm sorry if my squealing is irritating to your ears. I can't help it. I can't.