Just found out my poem “The Battler” made the shortlist for the “Lining our Thoughts” poetry competition from Anam Cara retreat in Ireland. The poem compares my experience advising my teen writing group to an old Irish legend of a holy book with special powers.
While winning an award (or in this case, a free stay at the retreat) would have been exciting, I find it equally valuable to know my work was viewed as quality.
I will eventually–somehow–make it back to Ireland to stay at this lovely writers retreat.
My Moments of Light jar with the first three entries for January, backdropped by a conveniently appropriate path into the unknown. Photo by Kelli Fitzpatrick.
My first year of teaching, a student gave me a Christmas gift–a Mason jar filled with homemade hot cocoa mix. If you exist in near proximity to me for any length of time, you will deduce–as this astute 11th grader did–that I love chocolate, probably more than I should. So I was understandably excited about receiving an entire quart of it. But that’s not the most memorable part of the experience. Continue reading
“Are you dreaming in their language?”
A line from the recent science fiction film Arrival, starring Amy Adams and Jeremy Renner who play a linguist and a mathematician tasked with communicating with alien visitors. The two discuss how dreaming in a language denotes that a special line of language acquisition has been crossed–the subconscious is now expressing itself in this new mode of meaning. Continue reading
My Authors Guild student writing club is working through a poetry series, each month writing poems centered around a central theme. These themes are sourced from a list of core values of the pioneers of our city.
November’s theme was “Optimism.” No, I’m not kidding. Continue reading
Beautiful. That’s the only way to describe it. A deep midnight blue, marbled with black. No larger than a quarter, flat and smooth. Glass-smooth.
“I found it for you, Ms. Fitz,” my high school student said, handing me the small stone. Our writing group was just about to begin a poetry reading on the library’s outdoor patio. Continue reading
Comedy. Of all the genres they could assign me, it had to be comedy.
Earlier this week, I found out I broke into the 3rd Round of the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge, meaning I got to advance to the next stage of the competition (a semi-final round, essentially) with the chance to qualify for finals in December. In my year plus of participating in NYC writing competitions, this is the furthest I’ve advanced.
But luck of the draw means a new set of random prompts for each round. And luck decided to stretch my abilities by throwing a genre at me that I’m less than confident in. Continue reading
It was 11pm on the last day of September, cold black sky flecked with stars overhead. The fire crackled and snapped, sending smoke dancing through camp as Sarah, Stef, and I made dinner. Continue reading
This morning, I’m standing on the shore of Lake Superior, eyes watering in the cold wind driving off the water. It’s minutes before dawn, and my two friends and I shiver in our hooded sweatshirts, wishing we had brought gloves, but transfixed by the beauty before us. Continue reading
It’s 2:31am. I should be asleep. But instead I’m wiping my teary eyes with a tissue that unfortunately has lotion in it. (Oh, the sting!)
I just finished watching the last few episodes of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. (Don’t worry, no spoilers here if you haven’t seen it.) Continue reading
Anything can tell a story.
A rock. A tree. An anchored ship. The way sunlight hits the glass of a window in an abandoned building. Yes, I have photographed all of those things, some more times than I can count. (I really like rocks, okay? :-P) Continue reading