The Princess Saves Herself in This One – By Amanda Lovelace

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Goodreads Synopsis: “Ah, life- the thing that happens to us while we’re off somewhere else blowing on dandelions & wishing ourselves into the pages of our favorite fairy tales.”

A poetry collection divided into four different parts: the princess, the damsel, the queen, & you. the princess, the damsel, & the queen piece together the life of the author in three stages, while you serves as a note to the reader & all of humankind. Explores life & all of its love, loss, grief, healing, empowerment, & inspirations.

Find on Goodreads and Amazon.

repeat after me:
you owe
no one
your forgiveness.

– except maybe yourself.

Yes, this book did live up to every bit of the hype. The Princess Saves Herself in This One was an emotional read for me. I didn’t expect it to be so much about surviving abuse and death and grief.  At times it was hard to read, but I loved it from page one.  The rawness spoke to me so deeply.  Sick & Bone was one of my favorite of the poems in this collection.

I loved this book so much, and I’m not sure what else there is to say about it. It’s beautiful, it’s full of truth, it’s a roar of defiance and self-love.  Definitely read it, buy it, give it your best friends.  I gave this book four stars on Goodreads.

Edits Galore – A Mad Woman’s Voice

Mother of Bread

my mother is baking bread

and

the baby is crying

in the other room

my mother is baking bread for us tonight

her red hands are covered

in

flour and dough

sit across

from me child read

to me from your catechism

come let us keep busy for

mother is in the kitchen baking

bread to keep our stomachs full

come my

sisters

watch our mother make  

bread

sweet bread

flat bread

sourdough

mother in the kitchen

mother making bread

Today I finished with a third batch of edits on A Mad Woman’s Voice. At the beginning of October I sent my manuscript to a fellow blogger and editor Topaz Winters.   It was really great to get a second pair of eyes on the poems, and to get advice on how to make them better.  Also in case anyone was wondering, Topaz Winters offers editing services and her prices are reasonable.

I got the manuscript back earlier this month and have been working nonstop since then to get A Mad Woman’s Voice ready for publishing.  The next thing to do is print out the manuscript and go over it again myself and have a few people read it. Then edit it again and then I’m considering sending it to a few chapbook publisher. Wish me luck! 🙂

Also I’ll be posting on my patreon within the next few days with updates on my next projects. So if you’d like to receive updates early as well as sneak peeks please consider supporting me.  There are different levels of support that you can give, and each comes with it’s special perks.

Thanks as always for reading! 🙂

Ink Stained Lungs Zine

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summary: ink stained lungs is a zine collective filled with poetry, photography and lettering and inspiration, all created in the name of celebrating the beauty of visual and written art forms. this is for the poets, the artists, with ink stained lungs and paper hearts. our gift to you.  

Take a look!
A couple months ago I was able to send in a piece of prose to this zine, and I’m so excited to announce that it’s now out! I’d love for you all to check it out. The link goes to payhip and the zine is completely free!  It’s a beautiful work of art and I’m so proud to be included.
ink stained lungs is the brainchild of S. Ahmed. Her blog post about the zine can be found here.  Also her whole blog is just a thing of beauty and you all should follow her. 🙂

Howling At The Moon – A Poetry Chapbook

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Goodreads Synopsis: Tell me, Atlas. What is heavier: the world or its people’s hearts?

In her debut poetry collection, Darshana Suresh explores what it means to be alive, and how hurting and healing can often be overwhelmingly intertwined.

She does not write about recovery. Instead, she writes about carrying on until you are ready to recover.

Find on Goodreads and Amazon. 

What a wonderful collection of poems! I was very lucky to get a copy of this book from the publishers in exchange for a review. I had seen the the collection going around twitter and was hoping to get a copy eventually. Then this opportunity came along and after being able to read it  I want to buy a copy more than ever.

Howling at the Moon is not a long collection, just over a 100 pages.  It’s filled with lines like “Love is the way your body fights to keep you alive / Day after day.”  or like this:

“There’s this ache in my chest
that I keep trying to write,
but there are some things that just
cannot be put into words.
The moonlight, for example.
Or the way the birds sound
when you wake up in the
morning despite thinking
the past night would
be your last.”

Darshana’s poetry is achingly beautiful, full of every emotion imaginable. It’s sometimes soft, and sometimes hard. It’s everything you could want in a poetry book. It’s inspiring. I read the entire collection in one day, but I’ve been going back to it every day since to read snippets here and there.   I’m in love with it and I think you will be too. Go buy it, read it and consider reviewing it.

I gave Howling at the Moon 4 stars on Goodreads.

Update On Mourning

I’ve been avoiding this post for awhile, but when I sat down to journal about it today I realized I shouldn’t be.

The reason I’ve been avoiding this is because I thought I was going to be able to publish Morning soon.   I’d already finished it, edited and was waiting to put the final touches on it when I decided to completely rewrite the entire chapbook.  Mourning had been in the works for almost a year and I felt bad that I had delayed it longer.

Then after rewriting and letting it sit for a bit more I realized I wanted to rewrite it again.   The meaning of the story, the meaning behind mourning was changing so much I decided to split it into two separate chapbooks.

 

So why should I be upset about this? I know by changing things I’m making Mourning better. Mourning does not have a place in my life right now, but it will again I’m sure. For now that part of the chapbook needs its rest.

 

What I’m working on now is called A Mad Woman’s Voice, and it only has about five of Mourning’s poems and seven new ones.  It’s still in it’s baby stages but it’s so good. I can feel it.  I really feel like I’ve been able to stay what I want/need to say.  I will get this chapbook done eventually and I willpublish it.  It’s going to take a bit longer but that’s ok.  Poetry evolves. That’s just the way it is.  Poetry is a living, growing art form and that’s ok.

More From The New Collection

I wrote this poem yesterday after a long day at the library. I ended up putting two poems together, and so I’m not sure yet if I like the way they flow. Let me know what you think.

Tape Day

 

I feel tender today. I can feel every cell of skin on my body, they are prickling and dancing. I feel as though all my words are inked on my skin for everyone to see.

I can feel your emotions today. The people around me are breathing them out and I am picking them up. The confusion of the old man wandering is mine and now my head spins.

The anxiety of the lady helping customers is mine and now my stomach is tumbling.

I’m in a glass box and everyone is watching. But at the same time I am hidden. Just another face and I see you but you’ll never see me.

I’m stuck between worlds and if I could pull out all these feelings that aren’t mine I would.

Stop. I don’t want to be tape today. I don’t want to be left outside to catch all these things on my skin.

 

I want to feel everything and nothing

I want to be under the green waves of the lake

I want it wash away the emotions I wear on my skin

I want to pause in the sun and feel as empty as the wide blue sky

I want to touch your brown skin

I want to taste your sweat and kiss your chest

Give me your fist, give me your lips, give me your heart and I’ll hold it next to my own

Look at me and give breath back to my dying lungs

I’m hoarding my anxiety and giving it a name

When I should be floating, dead

I’m somehow still human.