Yellow Arrow Publishing Blog

Kapua Iao 5/17/22 Kapua Iao 5/17/22

The Publishing Dilemma

By Angela Firman, written March 2022

One of my favorite ways to start a writing session is to open unfinished documents I’ve saved to find a seed worth nourishing. I feel like a genius when a tangled effusion of words from the past awakens my muse, and I set to work. When a piece comes together, what’s next? Dare I share it with others? I created something I am proud of, but when my words go out into the world, they invite others in; specifically, other’s judgement. I don’t generally live in fear of what other people think of me, but when it comes to writing, I am as bashful as they come.

There are writers who do not grapple with the decision to publish or not. Maybe it is because they have thicker skin than I do; they can take an arrow right to the heart without shedding a drop of blood. I am of the kind that dramatically clutches their chest and staggers to the ground, spurting blood every which way. Yes, judgment can be both bad and good, but even if there is only one bad comment among hundreds of good ones, I tend to dwell on the unkind one. Fortunately for my thin skin, I do not have hundreds of comments trailing after my writing, but if I did, it’s not the strangers’ opinions that terrify me: it’s my loved ones’. I have the most to lose with them because something worth publishing is juicy. It is the vulnerable material we hide, the words that will resonate with someone who recognizes themself, and sighs with relief to learn they are not alone.

I recently shared a piece in a writers’ workshop about grappling with being an accomplice to racial injustice while growing up in a predominantly white suburb of the Midwest. The in-person feedback I received left an indelible impression as I watched tears flow from other white women’s faces and heard affirming words from women of color, urging me to publish the piece to contribute to the ongoing, painful conversation in our country. This is important to me but sharing it would be at the cost of my parents’ feelings. I don’t imagine they would enjoy reading a public account of the shortcomings of the community I grew up in. At no point do I call them out, but how could they not feel responsible in-part for the pain I feel? This is just one example of vulnerability. My mom-friends could read about my preference to work rather than stay at home with my kids, or my in-laws could read about my struggles with anxiety and depression. Is a connection to a stranger I may not ever hear about worth the potential negative judgment I could receive from the ones I love?

I don’t know.

But I do it anyway. It makes me feel good to see my words in print. It not only validates my writing, but also my feelings. The magic of the written word—and any art, really—is its ability to express the infinite ways the human condition is experienced. No two artists have the same background or beliefs, so their work is a testament to their unique worldview. What better way to learn and affirm than to see the world through another’s eyes?

When the ones I love, often unintentionally, share their opinions and pierce my paper-thin skin—I won’t lie—it hurts. But I let the blood gush, I wallow in it a bit, and as time does, it heals all things—including my wimpy, thin skin. Wondrously, after I heal, my skin is a bit tougher than it was before. Scar tissue can do that. The barb of criticism will have to dig a little deeper each time in order to wound me. And so, I submit, sending my experience into the wide world in search of those who need to hear it.

Angela Firman is a Midwesterner at heart living a Pacific Northwest life with her best friend and their hilarious, sometimes demanding, roommates aged 4 and 8. Angela is an avid reader, a closet-cross-stitcher, and a fervent writer. While she has always enjoyed journaling, writing became a source of healing for Angela after being diagnosed with Stage III breast cancer at the age of 33. She found a place in the literary world in a writing group for breast cancer survivors—women who have grown to be some of her dearest friends—and now at The University of Washington where she is earning a certificate in editing. Her nonfiction writing has been published in Wildfire Magazine, Open Minds Quarterly, You Might Need To Hear This, and Press Pause. You can find her on Instagram @angelafirman11.

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

You can support us as we AWAKEN in a variety of ways: purchase one of our publications from the Yellow Arrow bookstore, join our newsletter, follow us on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter or subscribe to our YouTube channel. Donations are appreciated via PayPal (staff@yellowarrowpublishing.com), Venmo (@yellowarrowpublishing), or US mail (PO Box 102, Glen Arm, MD 21057). More than anything, messages of support through any one of our channels are greatly appreciated.

Kapua Iao 5/11/22 Kapua Iao 5/11/22

Everything is Practice

By Matilda Young

The great Brazilian soccer player Pele said, “Everything is practice.”

As both a writer and soccer nerd, this quote is dear to me. Over the years, it has come to mean different things: how honing a skill requires us to put the hours in, how every moment is an opportunity to learn.

These days, it helps to take some of the pressure off. When I’m out here taking a stab at a poem or an essay or a story, I’m just kicking the ball around, seeing what feels right, finessing my footwork.

Over the past four years, I’ve done my own version of NaNoWriMo, attempting to write a poem a day during April. I started out by participating in Tupelo Press’ 30/30 Project in April 2019. In the years since, I’ve been doing it on my own.

Well, not really on my own. In fact, the best part of the practice has been doing it alongside other writers. Every year, I invite writers I know to join me in a series of messy Google Docs, one per week(ish). It’s an open invitation for folks to forward along to others—my view is the more the merrier!—which has meant I get to write alongside some tremendous writers I’ve never had the pleasure to meet except on the page.

Every day, I’ll put a prompt in the Google Doc that people can respond to (or not). People can put their drafts in the Doc (or not). People can write every day or write whenever it makes sense for them.

It is such a joy to read what folks are writing throughout the month and to see what they create (we have some folks who are also visual artists). Everyone’s style is so different, and no one tackles the prompt in the same way. I am blown away by everyone’s talent, by these wonderful glimpses I get into their writing lives.

And especially during the pandemic, getting to be in community with these writers has been a lifeline. That first April, in 2020, when we were all so cut off from the world and from each other, writing together gave me a glimmer of hope.

This poem a day practice also paradoxically takes the pressure off for me. I can’t let perfect be the enemy of good. The poem doesn’t have to be something that’s publishable or finished or more than a few scraps of lines; it just has to exist.

I haven’t figured out a way to carry this daily practice beyond April. I don’t know if I ever will. And that’s OK—I’m still practicing.

Everything is practice. For me, this is practice in the spiritual sense, too. Writing together every April reminds me why I love writing, why I love writers. And I think everyone who loves writing is a writer. Everyone who loves language is a writer. Everyone with a truth they need to put into words is a writer. And in some small way, in these Google Docs, I get to be part of a jam band of folks who are sharing their truth with the world.

I hope that maybe you and your friends, and fellow writers not yet friends, will give this a shot and make it your own. It doesn’t have to be April. The prompts don’t have to be longer than one word (cardinal, crunch, clasp). But it may be a practice that you will find meaningful.

If not, that’s OK, too! We’re just out here figuring out what feels right for us, finessing our footwork, kicking the ball around.

“In Gratitude For Google Docs – April 2021”

This morning, I tried a new trick – wet rubber

glove across the blanket bringing away layers

of cat fur from four months of napping,

heavy battering even with the blanket surface

rotated in sections like crops. And it worked!

Thank you to the home ec sages of the internet

for this lesson, and who helped us get through

this past year of seeing what works with what we have:

frugal recipe hacks for pantry clean outs, the fruit

fly traps in soda bottles, baking soda and vinegar

for everything, crumble recipes I scanned

and riffed from like Beaker the science muppet

going rogue. And thank you to the free history

podcasts R & I listened to while he puzzled

& I colored. Thank you to the Pratt Library

for the audio book of Red, White & Royal Blue.

Thank you to the young person whose

youtube tutorial on braiding inspired me

even as I decided I needed to buzz it all off.

Thank you to V. for introducing me to TikTok,

with its sea shanties and camembert reviews.

Yes, messy, yes all consuming, yes ads that

won’t click out, yes creepy, yes, the worst of us.

But also fan fic and old friend zoom, poetry

podcasts, that video of the Archbishop

of Canterbury whose cat who creeps on screen

during a reading to steal the milk from a white jug

on his morning table, tentative paw dipping

like a fisher of delight. Yes to this digital

collaboration, this challenge, this gathering

of writers who jam in google docs, who give

me so much joy. Though I may not see you,

meet you, know you, I’m glad you’re here.

Matilda Young is a writer with an MFA in Poetry from the University of Maryland. She has been published in several journals, including Anatolios Magazine and Entropy Magazine. She enjoys Edgar Allan Poe jokes, sharing viral birding videos and being obnoxious about the benefits of stovetop popcorn.

You can follow her on Instagram @matildayoung28.

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts. Thank you for supporting independent publishing.

Kapua Iao 5/10/22 Kapua Iao 5/10/22

Meet a Board Member: Cindy Schuller

Yellow Arrow Publishing would like to welcome Treasurer, Cindy Schuller, to the Yellow Arrow family. Cindy is a CPA and has been working in various accounting and process improvement roles for over 20 years. She was born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio, and has lived in Baltimore, Maryland, since the early 2000s after graduating from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill with a Master of Accounting. She works as a director on the global process transformation team for a leading education company. She currently lives in Millersville, Maryland, with her husband, Kevin, and their children, Lauren and Kyle. In her free time, she enjoys reading, baking, and playing board games.

Cindy says, “I’m excited to make an impact on the finance operations—figuring out how we can do things more efficiently and for a lower cost, so we can use those freed up resources toward the Yellow Arrow mission.”

She recently took some time to answer some questions for us. Show her some love in the comments or on Facebook/Instagram!

What do you love most about Baltimore?

I live between Baltimore and Annapolis. I love our proximity to both cities. We’re able to take advantage of all the family friendly activities in both cities.

How did you get involved with Yellow Arrow and what do you do?

I met Annie Marhefka, Yellow Arrow’s Executive Director, when we worked for the same education company in Baltimore. Annie reached out to me about joining the board when the treasurer role opened.

What do you like most about the work you do?

My job involves streamlining and standardizing process across my company’s global landscape. I enjoy the puzzle of figuring out how our company can do something better, whether it’s by eliminating or reducing reliance on a manual process or creating efficiencies through automation. The improvements free up time to allow our teams to do more meaningful, valuable work, while reducing operational costs within the organization.

What other activities are you involved in besides Yellow Arrow?

I’m a coach for the local middle school’s Heart and Sole team. Heart & Sole is Girls on the Run’s middle school program that meets the unique needs of girls in 6th–8th grade. The program considers the whole girl—body, brain, heart, spirit, and social connection. It provides an inclusive place where girls feel supported and inspired to explore their emotions, cultivate empathy, and strengthen their physical and emotional health.

Given that you aren’t a writer, what is it about Yellow Arrow that intrigued you?

I believe it’s important to encourage women to use their voice. My current and past volunteer efforts focused on helping girls find their voice, and I’m excited to work with an organization that will offer girls an opportunity to have those voices heard as adults.

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We are so fortunate to have Cindy join our team! Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 5/9/22 Kapua Iao 5/9/22

A Spiritual Journey: Yellow Arrow Journal, Vol. VII, No. 1, UpSpring

By Annie Marhefka

I met April Graff, the cover artist of Yellow Arrow Journal, UpSpring (Vol. VII, No. 1) decades ago, but it’s been almost 20 years since I’ve spoken with her. Her husband, Monnie, and my older brother were dear friends and worked together as machinists for many years. My brother passed away in 2003 in a car accident on his way home from a shift working with Monnie; they were also greatly impacted by his death. I have this memory of April after my brother’s memorial service that has stuck with me all this time. I think of it whenever I think of her.

After the service, we had gone back to my parents’ house and everyone was standing in the kitchen sharing memories of my brother, and we were just talking about what you talk about at those things—how sudden it was, how shocked we were, how we couldn’t comprehend it just yet. My father in particular was really struggling and I remember watching him grip the kitchen counter and thinking it was the only thing holding him up.

It was right between Thanksgiving and Christmas and there was constant holiday music playing in the background. April started singing along quietly to “O Holy Night” and her voice was just incredible. She wasn’t showing off or looking for attention; it actually seemed like she couldn’t help herself but sing along, like maybe she didn’t even realize she was singing out loud. She was sitting on a barstool across the kitchen counter from my father and when my father heard her voice, he stood upright and asked everyone in the room to quiet down a little. Everyone went silent, including April. My father nodded in her direction and asked her to sing again. When you’re at an event like that, you never really know what you can say or do to help, and I could tell that April was shy or insecure about singing because she hesitated, but I think she also felt like, if this was what he needed, if this was what she could offer, she would do it for him. So despite her hesitation, she sang for him.

I think my father asked her to sing that song five or six times that night and every time, she obliged. Every time, the room went silent, and we just got wrapped up in her voice, the artistic flair she started weaving into the lyrics and the melody. It felt a little like we were watching her grow in her confidence and expand her creativity as the night went on. I don’t remember much about that night, the speeches people gave, or the condolences offered. But I’ll never forget April singing.

And now, almost 20 years later, April’s artwork, "Spiritual Journey," is featured on the cover of Yellow Arrow Journal Vol. VII, No. 1, UpSpring. Guest edited by Rebecca Pelky, a member of the Brothertown Indian Nation of Wisconsin and a native of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Some of the pieces in this issue focus on that thrilling moment of fruitfulness in which an upspring occurs while others remind us that some upsprings happen only after or because of desperately difficult times. “Spiritual Journey” fits into the latter.

I had the honor of interviewing April about her painting and where she is now after her own spiritual journey. She probably didn’t realize at the time how much she helped my family that night, and so to see April finding her voice in this new way, through painting, gives me so much hope that she can continue to use her story and her creativity to inspire and lift others. Here is my conversation with April.

Annie: Tell our Yellow Arrow community a little about yourself and your artwork.

April: I live with my two kids and my husband, Monnie, and our two fur babies in Westminster, Maryland. I have always been into the arts of all sorts—dancing, singing, drawing, painting. I found my love for painting while watching Bob Ross when I was a kid. To this day, he’s still soothing to me. That was where my love for painting started; I loved how it calmed me. I could even fall asleep watching his show!

I am seven years sober—will be eight years in November. When I went into my recovery, I was looking for things to help me cope other than the normal things people run to. My husband got me an art set and an easel because he knew I used to love painting. He got me the basics: little canvases, some oil paints, and an acrylic set. I had never worked with acrylic but started experimenting. I shared some pictures of what I made, and people started asking me for pieces. I wasn’t charging anything initially; I just loved the idea of having my art in people’s homes. Once the supplies started getting more expensive, I decided to start charging and that’s helped me try out different styles and techniques. The painting I did for UpSpring started out as an experiment, but I was feeling all the things that day and it all comes out on the canvas. It’s how I cope with everyday life. I was told to journal, but I can’t organize my thoughts enough. Painting is how I journal. Many people can’t interpret what I was feeling at the time, but I can look at a painting I made, and I can see exactly what I was feeling at that time. I love that no painting ever turns out the same.

Annie: Our theme for this issue of Yellow Arrow Journal is UpSpring. We received so many amazing pieces of writing from readers who connected with this theme. What does the theme mean to you?

April: Every dark place I was in, I’ve always reached out to the light, and you see that through the elements of darkness and light in the painting. I remember being at the rock bottom of my addiction and crying and wondering, why can’t I get out of this, why am I like this. [But], I want[ed] to see my kids grow, I want[ed] to get out of this dark place. Where the painting passes and connects and intertwines, I know that [that] is where I reached my rock bottom. I had lost all of me. Where it passes through is my spirit reaching back through to the person that I used to be, to become even better than the person I was once before. Through my journey of recovery, I found a peace I never knew before. I was always trying to overcome my environment; I was battling every day to not be a product of my environment. I fought hard to get out of that. I think you can see that when you look at the painting.

Annie: Our guest editor for this issue, Rebecca Pelky, also shared how she connected the theme to the idea of raising up: raising children, raising ourselves, raising awareness. What causes do you hope to raise awareness about?

April: There is a purpose for every one of us. I feel like my art is reaching out to other people to pull them in. Through sharing my experience, it’s so tough to see others struggling with addiction and suffering, I feel so helpless sometimes. But to know that I have helped other people is worth how tough it is—I’ve led others to recovery, helped people understand why their loved ones are addicted or that they have no control, that it has nothing to do with not loving them enough. In a way, my paintings are an extended hand, trying to pull other people up with me.

Annie: What does it mean to you to be able to share your art with others in this way? Who are you most excited to share your art with?

April: It’s always gut wrenching to share my work because I’m afraid somebody’s going to say that’s not art or wonder if the [price] I’m charging is worth it. My art is an expression of what I’m feeling and how do you come up with a price for that? When I found out my painting was going to be on the cover, I immediately wanted to share that with my brother. My brother is also an artist, and these days, it’s how we communicate. I’ve always respected him as an artist; he has a talent I’ve always envied. Even growing up, as a little girl, I would try to copy something he made, and he would get mad and say I plagiarized him. I was just looking up to him. I just wanted to be like him. As we got older, he started teaching me techniques, and I started teaching him. I wasn’t the tag along anymore; I was more accepted as a peer in his eyes, and I’ve always respected that side of him.

Annie: What would you say to others who maybe are going through their own difficult journey right now?

April: There’s a reason why you're here; there’s a purpose. Share your experience, share your journey with the world; inspire others to be more, be whatever they want to be. Strive for that every day.

Annie: What gives you inspiration?

April: There’s days where I can’t do it for myself and so I do it for the people that love me. There are days when I do it for the sun, the air, the people that can’t be here. I’m just trying to be here to live the life they couldn't. I remind myself that I’m a survivor, not a victim. I survived. I want other people to survive, to become warriors.

UpSpring is currently available for PREORDER from the Yellow Arrow bookstore. Wholesale copies (discounted copies in lots of 5) can also be purchased. The issue will be released on May 24. And join us for the virtual reading of UpSpring, “Moments in Time: An UpSpring Reading,” on June 28.

Yellow Arrow recently revamped and restructured it’s Yellow Arrow Journal subscription plan to include two levels. Do you think you are an Avid Reader or a Literary Lover? Find out more about the discounts and goodies involved at yellowarrowpublishing.com/store/yellow-arrow-journal-subscription.

Thank you, April, for letting us in on your spiritual journey.

April Graff is from Baltimore, Maryland. She now lives in Westminster with her two amazing children, husband, and two family pets. “Spiritual Journey” is her very first published piece of art.

Annie Marhefka is a writer, HR consultant, and mama residing in Baltimore, Maryland, with her husband John, their daughter Elena, and son Joseph. When she’s not reading or writing, she loves traveling, boating, and hiking with her family. Her work has been published by Coffee + Crumbs, Versification, Capsule Stories, Remington Review, and more. Annie is working on a memoir about mother/daughter relationships; you can find her writing on Instagram, Twitter, and at anniemarhefka.com.

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 5/6/22 Kapua Iao 5/6/22

Her View Friday

Yellow Arrow Publishing supports women-identifying writers from a wide variety of backgrounds, not just because it’s the right thing to do, but because it makes us stronger. Women’s voices have historically been underrepresented in literature, and we aim to elevate those voices and stories through our programs, publications, and support.

Part of our mission in supporting and uplifting women writers is to promote the Yellow Arrow community’s individual accomplishments. We’d like to further expand that support and promotion outside of our Yellow Arrow publications. Twice a month, we’d like to give a shout out to those within the Yellow Arrow community who recently published:

single-author publications
single pieces in journals, anthologies, etc.

You can support our authors by reading this blog and their work, sharing their news, and commenting below or on the blog. Congratulations to all the included authors. We are so proud of you!

Every writer has a story to tell and every story is worth telling.

Author: Joanne Durham

Tell us about yourself: I am a retired educator living on the North Carolina coast. My poem, "BABY!," was published in the RENASCENCE issue of Yellow Arrow Journal (Spring 2021). Since then, about 40 of my poems have been published in various journals, and many of them are found in my latest book and a forthcoming chapbook, On Shifting Shoals (Kelsay Books).

Where are you from: Prince George’s County, Maryland

What three words describe your main writing space:

ocean energy openness

What did you just publish: To Drink from a Wider Bowl, which won the 2021 Sinclair Poetry Prize and was published by Evening Street Press in April 2022. Find it at eveningstreetpress.com/book-author/joanne-durham.

Tell us about your publication: It is a celebration of many stages of a woman’s life—from ancestors to grandchildren, and the connections between my personal life and the larger world around me. It’s a book of discovery, gratitude, and commitment to working for a better world.

Why this book? Why now? How did it happen for you: I have written poetry all my life, but except for some poems about teaching in teaching journals, never pursued publication until after I retired. Then I went back to the many notebooks I had kept and started revising, taking workshops, joining critique groups. After about a year of writing and publishing in literary journals, I realized I had the makings of memoir in poetry. When I wrote what wound up as the first poem in my book, “Old Folks,” which ends “we are thirsty still / but drink from a wider bowl,” I knew I had the title and the overall theme for the book.

What is your writing goal for the year: To deepen the texture of my poetry and just keep writing and learning and see where it takes me.

What advice do you have for other writers: Write as much as you can, even if it’s just notes you jot down for later. Participate in critique groups, with other poets who will support you but also give you truthful feedback on how your poems land with them. Listen, revise, submit to journals that you like to read.

What else are you working on/doing that you’d like to share: I am a bit obsessed with getting my book out into the world! That has also made me more interested in supporting other poets. So I’m writing a blurb for an anthology, helping a fellow poet figure out the order of poems in her book, buying poetry books and writing Goodreads reviews. I’ve made friends with poets not only across the U.S., but in India, Zimbabwe, New Zealand, and Canada. All of it enriches my life.

You can find Joanne on Twitter @DurhamJoanne and Instagram @poetryjoanne or at joannedurham.com.

Yellow Arrow (past and present) board, staff, interns, authors, residents, and instructors alike! Got a publication coming out? Let us help celebrate for you in Her View Friday.

Single-author publications: here.

Single pieces: here.

Please read the instructions on each form carefully.

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 5/4/22 Kapua Iao 5/4/22

How I handle rejection

By Arao Ameny

I published my first poem “Home is a Woman” in The Southern Review in 2020 at the beginning of the pandemic.

Before that, I sent the piece out to literary magazines 27 times for two straight years before getting an acceptance.

There’s something extremely humbling about getting out of an MFA program, head fat with ideas of who and what you’ll become, and it doesn’t quite turn out like you imagined.

I graduated from the University of Baltimore in 2019 in the prepandemic, mask-less days (which seem like a lifetime ago) when I had wild ideas of where I would be and what I would be. Although I studied fiction writing in university, I was also reading and writing poetry though I didn’t tell my cohort. In the writing program, we had to choose one discipline but I couldn’t imagine separating prose from poetry. So I asked my poet-classmates many questions, got screenshots of their syllabi, and started doing a poetry self-study alongside my fiction writing program. I also completed several free online poetry courses. I wanted to be a fiction writer and a poet, in that order.

When I graduated from my MFA program, I started submitting prose and poetry to literary magazines and the rejections started rolling in, sometimes three or four in one day. The first one stung so much I had to get a glass of water and sit down for about an hour. I also Googled “how to do breathing exercises” because I was convinced my heart would fall out of my chest that day. That’s when I knew I had to create a plan on how to handle rejection because I needed a way to deal with the rollercoaster of emotions of having something I’d worked on for years be rejected in matter of weeks or months.

I decided to start a journal, scribbling the many reasons I wanted to write. Sentences like “I write because I wanted to be a writer since I was eight years old” or “I write because I love words and sentences and languages” are what I return to when I was down.

Sometimes I would write down 10 reasons and other times I would sit down for an hour and come up with 40 reasons why I write and jot them down into my worn notebook. When a rejection (or two or three) came in, I would immediately open my journal and read aloud the reasons until the sting of the rejection dulled with each repetition.

I remind myself why I write and that it’s okay when others don’t understand my work or find it hard to connect with my story or my voice. I go inward and remind myself that I would be writing even if I had no approval or no audience or any recognition. I do this until the first sentence of the rejection letter rattles less and eventually fades. Then a few days after reading the rejection letter, I commit to studying the story or the poem I’ve submitted, taking it apart, sometimes cutting it to pieces and rearranging those pieces on my floor. If there is feedback from the editor, I address it immediately, let the work sit for a few weeks, and come back again with fresh eyes.

That has been how I have handled rejection. I will continue this ritual until my journal is full of reasons why I write so that I have a compass to guide me when and if I doubt myself or lose my footing. It’s not perfect or pain-free but it helps me have a system and a routine on how to deal with constant and consistent rejection. I’ve learned that having a plan helps me regulate my reaction (and the amount of times I visit the ice cream shop). Having a plan on how to deal with rejection has also helped me put things into perspective. When my mother was alive, I enjoyed making mandazi with her, kneading the slightly sweet dough, rolling it, and cutting into squares before sliding them one by one into hot oil to fry. Whenever I failed at something, she would point to the dough and make me repeat “I rise like well-beaten dough kneaded with both hands.” A cup of tangawizi tea followed.

With each rejection, I rise.

Arao Ameny is a Maryland-based poet and writer from Lira, Lango, Northern Uganda. She is a multigenre writer with a focus on poetry, fiction, and nonfiction. She is currently a biography writer and editor at the Poetry Foundation, publisher of Poetry Magazine. She earned her MFA in Fiction Writing from the University of Baltimore in 2019. She also earned an MA in Journalism from Indiana University and a BA in Political Science with minors in International Relations and Communications from the University of Indianapolis. She is a former fiction editor and copyeditor at Welter, a literary journal at the University of Baltimore. Her first published poem, “Home is a Woman,” won The Southern Review’s 2020 James Olney Award. In 2021, she was a finalist for the United Kingdom-based Brunel International African Poetry Prize, a nominee for the Best New Poets anthology (USA), and a winner of a Brooklyn Poets Fellowship.

Arao is the recipient of the 2022 Mayor’s Individual Artist Award from the Creative Baltimore Fund, a grant from Mayor Brandon Scott, the City of Baltimore, and The Baltimore Office of Promotion & The Arts (BOPA). She is also a recipient of the Poets & Writers’ Open Door Career Advancement Grant for women writers of color. The workshops she has attended include Tin House and Kenyon Review Writers Workshop. Her favorite writer is Zimbabwean novelist, short story writer, playwright, and poet Dambudzo Marechera. Previously, she worked in communications at New York City government and as a writer and social media editor at Africa Renewal magazine at the United Nations in New York City.

Follow Arao on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook @araoameny.

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts. Thank you for supporting independent publishing.

Kapua Iao 5/3/22 Kapua Iao 5/3/22

A Conversation Across Two Time Zones

By Melissa Nunez, written in March 2022

Victoria Buitron is an Ecuadorian writer and translator who resides in Connecticut. She is a graduate of the Fairfield University MFA program and writes in a range of styles from flash fiction pieces that can be found in Litro Magazine and Latinx Lit Audio Mag, to her debut book A Body Across Two Hemispheres: A Memoir in Essays, which came out in March 2022.

In this memoir, Victoria comes of age between Ecuador and the United States as she explores her ancestry, learns two languages, and searches for a place she can call home. It portrays not only the immigrant experience, but the often-overlooked repatriate experience while interweaving facets of depression, family history, and self-love.

On a Sunday of fresh fallen snow in Connecticut and uncomfortable cold in South Texas, Victoria and I met through Zoom to talk about writing life.

Melissa: I love learning what texts and authors other writers find inspiring. What are some of your favorite books? Who are some women writers who have inspired you?

Victoria: One of the people that has most inspired me is Colombian author Adriana Páramo. She was a professor in my MFA program and the first person who told me I should submit my work. I think that I really needed her presence throughout the MFA program to find confidence in myself. She writes about family, immigration, culture shock, and being a Latina—not just in the United States, but throughout the world. I strongly connect to all of that. I also think about Jaquira Díaz, who wrote the book Ordinary Girls. For a long time, I felt like my life was ordinary, and she helped me see that within everyone’s ordinary lives extraordinary things happen. That motivated me to continue writing about my life. I also want to mention Morgan Jerkins. Her memoir is composed of different styles of essay and goes back and forth in time. That inspired me to focus on location over chronological order in my own book. In reading these contemporary works by contemporary writers, I realized that I was capable of achieving my writing goals.

Melissa: I love that ordinary/extraordinary dichotomy and admire writing that can take something a general audience might find boring and make it just the opposite. Writers who, through voice and style, make so much more of a topic than what is on the surface.

What is your favorite part about being a writer?

Victoria: My favorite part is writing that first draft. I have so much fun with it. There’s a little phrase I use when I start writing. Sometimes, I even write it on a sticky note and put it next to me. It says: You are writing on paper, not on rock. It reminds me that on this paper I can do so many things. I can take that route; I can take this other path. Who knows where it is going to lead me today? The process of creation is so much fun. It’s always a surprise. The draft might not become anything substantial by the end of the day, but maybe I’ll go back to it in the future and find a little spark I can use to continue working. The possibilities are infinite.

Melissa: That is a great mindset to have. I’m trying to lean into that methodology. I’ve always been a first draft editor, constantly reviewing and revising, which makes it difficult to get very far. I like this focus of just getting it out on the page first. Definitely more productive.

Victoria: I think a lot of times when we first start writing we might already be thinking about submitting and achieving perfection from the get-go. But it’s so hard. Nothing is perfect in general, but it’s so hard to have something that you consider perfect in the first draft. So, I just let go of that. For me, the first draft equals fun. That’s it. I will worry about the rest later. Sometimes you don’t even know the purpose of the piece until after writing it. You start off writing about X and end up with D. Sometimes your subconscious has other ideas.

Melissa: Finding fun in the process is an excellent approach. I can see how you would get so much more out of the writing experience that way. I’m working on putting that positivity into practice, but still find it difficult at times. What do you find is the most difficult part of the writing process?

Victoria: The most difficult part is knowing when a piece is ready. I think that is what I struggle with the most. There are times when I finish something and feel it is ready, and then a few days later change my mind. I think that now, with a little more experience, with more writing, it’s become easier. But it still happens sometimes. I feel like there’s a fine line, but I have very good writer and nonwriter friends that review my work. They are very honest with me. And it’s not about what is good or bad. It’s about meeting your focus for the piece. If somebody I trust reads my work and my vision for the piece isn’t coming through, then I need to go back to the drawing board. Getting to that point can be difficult.

Melissa: It is so helpful when you have friends or a writing group to be those sounding boards for you. A very beneficial resource. Is there anything else you find especially helpful, specifics you need to have a productive writing session?

Victoria: In the beginning I would say that I could not write unless it was with pen and paper, and I think that really limited me. I work a 9–5 job, so I mostly write evenings or on the weekends. If I was on my break and had an idea, I’d tell myself to remember that starting point for my evening writing session, but by then it would be gone. Now when the muse strikes, I can write something on my phone really quick. I would not have thought this was possible a few years ago. I had to train myself to write anywhere. If I limited myself to a specific environment, I wouldn’t be able to write as much. There are writers who have specific rituals, and I understand that need to help the transition into a writing atmosphere. But you should try to save that closed-off environment for editing. I believe this has allowed me to be more creative.

Melissa: I have had to learn that as well. To take notes on my phone and sometimes even actual drafting, because if not the writing won’t happen. I’ve found this flexibility has helped me get more writing done.

Victoria: I think it has been a process to learn that. You don’t learn that from the get-go. It’s tough.

Melissa: Have you experimented with literary translation, or is it mostly business/professional?

Victoria: Mostly professional, business translation. That’s what I do with my 9–5. I have done some literary translations for fun in the past, but never something that has been published. I do want to venture into that, though. The last four years I have been focused on finishing my memoir and working to get exposure for the book. But I want to dabble with literary translation in the future.

Melissa: Is there a genre you prefer? A writer you feel you’d really want to translate yourself?

Victoria: I would love to focus on Ecuadorian writers because I feel like that is missing, especially the poetry. There is so much beautiful Spanish poetry from my country.

Melissa: That would be wonderful. I have always been intrigued by the craft of translation, especially in poetry, because there is such an art to preserving the rhythm and sound of the language. Not that those qualities are not present in prose, but they can be more amplified in poetry, especially the shorter pieces.

I loved the concept of memoir in essays and found myself really taken by the titles in your book. How do you decide on titles for your works? Is it something you find difficult, or does it fall naturally into place for you?

Victoria: I love that question because I feel that one of my weaknesses is titles. The first piece that I ever published was accepted on the condition that I change the title. It’s a skill I’ve had to work on. What I learned from one of my MFA professors was to work on the title last. Don’t let a title mold the essay. Write the essay first. Even my book went through many different titles. I always feel like my pieces are prone to changing as I’m writing, and a title I started out with might not make it to the end. It is hard for me. I don’t think about it as I’m writing. Or editing. I still think titles are so much fun because you have to be creative. The title is the first thing that people read, and you want to grab a potential reader’s attention.

Melissa: Yes. And it’s also a balance between grabbing that attention and then living up to the promise. I think you do that very well in your memoir. Is there an essay title that is your favorite from the collection?

Victoria: I really like “Let It Burn.” It doesn’t give too much away, but it is powerful. The essay is about something very cultural. When I was growing up, I thought that on all South American countries celebrated New Year’s Eve with a monigote, placing it in the middle of the street and burning it to ash at midnight. With a flash piece like this, where the content can be 300 words or 100 words, the title has to be very strong.

Melissa: There is a theme of otherness in your writing. Not only in your book, but in pieces like “Thin Ice.” How has it felt to reflect upon this in your writing?

Victoria: Otherness was one of the driving factors for writing this book. When I was growing up, it was very hard for me to find books about Ecuadorian American writers, specifically memoirs. I felt othered in general because I came to the U.S. when I was five and had to learn English. Then I moved back to Ecuador when I was 15 and had to learn Spanish, formal Spanish. I never felt like I fit in. In this world where people can move around a lot, at least within borders, it happens a lot. You feel othered because of the language, or the culture, because of the people around you. I wanted to write a book about how I felt othered throughout the entirety of my life. It was one of the core themes. Beyond that, it is also a focus on family. How you deal with your family and construct an identity when you feel othered. That is also why the book is focused on the southern and northern hemispheres.

Melissa: What would you like those who this experience resonates with to draw from your words?

Victoria: I want people to read this book and understand that immigrants are not monoliths. Some people view immigrants as a category where everything these individuals have gone through is the same. That’s not true. I want people to read this book and understand that everyone has an extraordinary life within their ordinary life. There are all these little things or major things that happen to us, which can include moving from one place to another, and they affect our identity individually. I hope that when people read immigrant stories, they understand that there are so many layers to a person, what they have gone through, and that these past experiences mold them.

Melissa: Do you have any upcoming projects, big or small, you’d like to share?

Victoria: I have so many projects in mind, but the one that is most advanced is a poetry collection with a feminist focus on missing and murdered women. Over the last few years, I started following stories of missing and murdered Indigenous women. It was such a shock to me how there is continued bias in the coverage of these events today. I started thinking about the type of woman that the media would consider the perfect missing/murdered woman. And I think that if you’re not that perfect woman, then it’s very hard for the world or the United States to find out that you are missing. This has stayed with me, subconsciously, and I started writing these poems about women, murdered women, missing women. I know it’s a very heavy topic, one that I’m still working on that includes many intersections of feminism. It’s still very much in the early stages, but I have had a few poems published. It’s a project that I want to continue because it is very important to me.

Melissa: I read one of your published pieces on this topic, “Mainstream Outlets.” It was very powerful. It is a heavy topic, but one that deserves the attention.

What advice would you give to someone working on their first book or just starting out with writing in general?

Victoria: When we first start out, we tend to focus on an outside audience, on whether other people will like and want to publish our work. Getting published is the goal. I don’t think we should start out focused on the publishing or marketing aspect. I always ask myself why my writing is this important to me, because first and foremost, I write for myself. Why do I need to write this? Why does past me need this? Why do I need this today? Why does future me need to read about this? The person we must respect the most as writers is ourselves. Once you have a draft, focus on your craft. Try to make it the best possible. After that you can think about how to get it out there. I didn’t publish my first piece until 2018, when I was 28. A lot of people might say that’s late, but I think that everything continued at the pace it needed to. All those years of translation and reading books and not publishing allowed me to get the foundation for craft I needed in order to get my work out there.

Victoria’s debut memoir A Body Across Two Hemispheres is now available from Woodhall Press at woodhallpress.com/product-page/a-body-across-two-hemispheres-a-memoir-in-essays. You can find more of her writing at victoriabuitron.com and stay informed on her upcoming events on Twitter @vic_toriawrites.

Melissa Nunez is a Latin@ writer and homeschooling mother of three from the Rio Grande Valley. Her essays have appeared in magazines like Sledgehammer Lit and Latinx Lit Audio Mag. She has work forthcoming in Acropolis Journal, Minerva Rising, and Re-Side. She is also a staff writer for Alebrijes Review. You can follow her on Twitter @MelissaKNunez.

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts. Thank you for supporting independent publishing.

Kapua Iao 5/1/22 Kapua Iao 5/1/22

Yellow Arrow Vignette Submissions are Now Open!

Today marks the first day of May and with that the opening of submissions for the inaugural issue of Yellow Arrow Vignette—Yellow Arrow’s new online creative nonfiction and poetry series. As a team we settled on the name “vignette” or “little vine” in French because in literature vignettes are described as literary sketches—highly detailed snapshots. In a vignette there may be a bit of dialogue or plot, but the senses are heightened to focus on the emotions and smallest elements of a scene.

Submissions to the the first issue of Vignette are open from May 1 to 31 on the 2022 Yellow Arrow yearly theme AWAKEN:

: to make someone or something aware

: to awake, become aroused or conscious

Aligned with the notion of pausing to observe the details, choosing AWAKEN as this year’s Vignette theme was fitting because to truly be awake means to be conscious of your surroundings. To be awake necessitates acknowledging the spectrum of emotions: to savor the sliver of morning light warming your foot as you wait for your coffee to brew, to feel the low hum of the traffic while scrubbing the dishes, or to curl up with your coziest blanket and embrace the pain. With the stories that come from the Vignette, we hope to paint a feeling of interconnectedness by giving our readers a window into brief, but poignant moments of awakening.

Although Yellow Arrow is planted and cultivated in Baltimore, Maryland—also home to our executive editor, Annie Marhefka—Yellow Arrow’s roots extend to Bosnia where our founder, Gwen Van Velsor, sends love and support; to the streets of Montréal and soils of Greece where our editor-in-chief, Kapua Iao, splits her time; to wherever Vignette’s Managing Editor Siobhan McKenna calls home as a traveling nurse, currently in Seattle, Washington, but soon Alaska; and to numerous other cities and localities that our community calls home. By publishing Vignette online, we look to expand our community’s reach even further by making the words of our writers easily accessible. By making the voices of women heard even more.

For Vignette, we are looking for creative nonfiction and poetry by writers/artists that identify as women on the theme of AWAKEN. Submissions can be in any language as long as an English translation accompanies them. For more information regarding submission guidelines and how to submit, please visit yellowarrowpublishing.com/vignette/submissions. Please read our guidelines carefully before submitting. Vignette will begin its release in July 2022.

Through Yellow Arrow Vignette we will increase the number of stories that we publish annually furthering our desire to provide a platform for voices that may otherwise not be heard. Yellow Arrow Publishing may be a small press but like a small vine steadily moving toward the sun, we hope that the Yellow Arrow Vignette will grow our mission of sharing captivating stories from an array of backgrounds.

We look forward to reading the submissions for Yellow Arrow Vignette and sharing these stories with you. Since its founding in 2016, Yellow Arrow has worked tirelessly to make an impact on the local and global community by advocating for writers that identify as women. Yellow Arrow proudly represents the voices of women from around the globe. Creating diversity in the literary world and providing a safe space is deeply important. Every writer has a story to tell, every story is worth telling.

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 4/26/22 Kapua Iao 4/26/22

The Composition of Ekphrastic Poetry

By Ellen Dooling Reynard, written November 2021

My husband, the French painter Paul Reynard (1927–2005), used to ask me to write about his art. I procrastinated, using the excuse that I was not well enough educated in the plastic arts to be a reliable critic of his work. Little did either of us know that we were so soon to be separated by his death. In addition to my grief, I regretted painfully that I had not taken up his suggestion.

A little more than a decade later, I began to write poetry. I joined several women’s poetry critique groups, and in that process, I came across the word “ekphrasis.” In Greek, the word ekphrasis loosely means ‘description in vivid detail,’ and ekphrastic poetry are poems written about works of art. I listened to the Iranian poet Rooja Mohassessy read her ekphrastic poetry about the artistic works of her late uncle, Bahman Mohassess (1931–2010). In hearing those evocative poems, it dawned on me that I might attempt that with Paul’s work, and finally write about his art as he had wished.

I then made it my practice to sit in front of Paul’s paintings, whose luminescent colors bathed the rooms of my house in a kind of benediction, and I began to write poems. It was as though I walked through the landscapes of those glowing colors, discovering the search for meaning that Paul most likely experienced as he put brush to canvas. I suppose everyone interprets art, especially abstract art, in his or her own way, and my approach to Paul’s work was certainly subjective. But I make no apologies for that.

For example, in my examination of “First Movement” (acrylic on canvas, 1982), pictured here, because I knew that Paul was keenly interested in creation stories, at first, I associated what I was seeing with the creation of the world as described in Genesis. I asked myself, as perhaps Paul did when he regarded the evolving composition on his easel, what was the source of creation, where and how did it all begin? I researched what scholars had to say and found that these questions have puzzled scientific minds for millennia. Was it a big bang, is it an ongoing process, or might it be something else entirely? A beginning of this magnitude is a question without an answer.

Then I looked more closely at the succession of rounded shapes in the painting and was reminded of the sensation of pregnancy. I realized that women have the unique opportunity to know, within their own bodies, the beginning and the developing growth of new life, and are not afraid of the unknown in this miraculous process.

The poem I wrote about “First Movement,” therefore, touches on the intellectual approaches of science and proceeds to the physiological experience of gestation, and includes it all as one great enigma. “First Movement” was published by POETiCA REViEW, issue 8 (Winter 2020).

Former men of science maintained

that the universe was born in a great

eruption of expanded forces.

They argued their theories

with passion and conviction

while inwardly fearing that in fact,

they did not know.

Current theories suggest that creation

is ongoing, but these new men of science

also fear that they do not know.

The woman gazes up at the night sky

and, spreading her palms

over her belly, she feels the first

flutter of the child in her womb.

A shooting star draws its silver path

across the sky, and the woman smiles.

She is not afraid to know,

the great beginning was as gentle

and as magnificent as this.

Each time I sit down in front of one of Paul’s compositions, I go through that same process of allowing myself to search for words for what is unsayable yet expressed so clearly in paint and graphite. Little by little, I recognized that the poems I have written so far about his art could form a chapbook of a very special kind, including high-resolution images of the paintings and drawings that would be on the facing page of each poem. And since the publishers of chapbooks do not have it in their budgets to create such a volume, I decided to pay for the expense of high-quality paper and have the poems and accompanying art published by a small independent enterprise, South Forty Press. That way I will be able to be certain that the color saturation and clarity of the images are appropriate. The book will be titled Double Stream and will be available in 2022.

For me, this has been and continues to be a project of immense creativity and pleasure. I am sure Paul would be happy that I have, at long last, written about his work.

Ellen Dooling Reynard spent her childhood on a cattle ranch in Jackson, Montana. A one-time editor of Parabola Magazine, she is now retired and lives in Temecula, California. Her poetry has appeared in publications including Lighten Up On Line, Persimmon Tree, The Ekphrastic Review, Silver Blade, Muddy River Poetry Review, and Poetica Review. Her first chapbook, No Batteries Required, was published in 2021 by Yellow Arrow Press. Double Stream, a collection of ekphrastic poems based on the art of the French painter Paul Reynard, will be published in 2022 by The South Forty Press.

Happy National Poetry Month!

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 4/19/22 Kapua Iao 4/19/22

Body, Self, Separation: A review of Dena Igusti’s Cut Woman

By Darah Schillinger

In her debut collection, Cut Woman (2020), Dena Igusti explores the realities of being an Indonesian Muslim in a post-colonial world, and the separation of self they experienced as a survivor of female genital mutilation. Igusti’s writing is unique in that the language is authoritative even though the content itself is open and sincere, allowing us a naked view into the celebration and grief embedded into their experience as an Indonesian Muslim and as a survivor.

The anticipation of death is carried throughout the collection as the weight of loss hangs over the speaker’s everyday life. Death is a vessel of grief, an image Igusti can use to show in pictures exactly how all of this loss has made them feel, and how it has transformed their relationships with the self, their people, and loved ones.

“the grenade’s lung exhaled into our chests

and muslims have been spilled ever since”

-bounty

“IF THEY CAN'T FIND MY CORPSE THEY’LL AT LEAST
FIND A BODY (I CRAFT)”

-self portrait as asa akira’s face on google images when searching ‘asian women’

“i’m like my father

i leave half-carcasses // of me // everywhere i go”

“i think a lot // about death // for someone //

so afraid of dying”

-sacrifice (reprise), or trajectory

“I WANT TO

REMOVE // CELLS // DEAD, GENETIC // THAT HANG //

OFF MY BODY // HOLD TRACES OF WHAT // WAS DONE

TO ME WITHOUT BEING // SWALLOWED BY AN OCEAN”

-screen

The loss of self, the prospective loss of loved ones, the past loss of their people—all of this loss influences Igusti’s relationship with death. Death is preemptively mourned in Igusti’s work, something that weighs down the speaker and strings together the past and the present. Loss cannot be shed just as death cannot be avoided, and so Igusti embraces the inevitability of death to cope with the loss that already pervades their experiences.

Water and suffocation are used as one of the many forms of death found in the collection and are especially impactful in “my father never answers to papa” as saltwater acts as a metaphor for their father’s baggage and past mistakes, drowning them both. The speaker tries to drink the water, trying to save their father from his own grief and troubles, but the saltwater burns their throat, and their father takes even this time as they both drown because of his own problems, to blame his child. This poem is such a beautifully illustrated example of the weight of pain and past, showing how undealt with grief can drown not only yourself but your loved ones. Igusti has written true brilliance in describing the very real consequences of the unresolved, and how the mistakes of the father translate and choke the people they should love most.

Female genital mutilation is discussed throughout Igusti’s collection, exploring the separation the speaker feels between the self and their body in the aftermath of that experience and attempting to reconcile their complicated self-relationship through poetry.

“curse the // blade //

reduces // her // small // calls it //

transformation”

-hex for an heirloom

“she reduced me to small and called it transformation. She let me die

and called herself the martyr. She cut out part of me, made it my relative. A

blood bound thing.”

-sunat: a recollection (in the wake)

In “after the incision,” the speaker feels a disconnect between themself and their body because of what happened to them as a child and tries to reconcile this disconnect through conversation with the part they see as missing, personifying their clitoris and begging this missing part to return to them, saying they are hurt because the clitoris is not theirs anymore. The other-self then points out that the speaker’s feeling of loss doesn’t stem solely from the missing piece of their body in asking: “is that the only reason you feel loss?” Loss remains an overarching theme of the speaker’s experience, and they have projected this loss directly onto their body disconnect instead of confronting the other sources. This poem, and the broader discussion of bodily disconnect, acts as a powerful and jarring exploration of the places we store blame when grieving, and the reconciliation that may occur once we confront that blame.

White America appears in Igusti’s collection as its own self-imposed character, interjecting into the speaker’s life in an attempt to tell them who they are and make them question what they know. In “bounty,” the character of white America makes an uninvited appearance in the last stanza as a man who steals the identity of generations effortlessly:

“a man inhales an eighth of all our grandmothers

into his lungs, exhales

what his body didn’t take this time onto my chest

shouts

why the fuck are these muslims everywhere?”

The speaker sees this man as a broader representation of white people in America, breathing in the identities of Muslim women and spitting back hateful, ignore words, which remains an unfortunately accurate portrayal. In “altar,” the speaker describes how CNN’s description of what happened to them as a child as female genital mutilation disrupted their understanding of self, becoming victimized by a country they were “never supposed to set foot in.” The speaker writes:

“i feel obligation //

invite America in // white reporters and “saviors”

pour in by the dozens // break in everything in sight //

i ask // why have you ruined

everything? they say America”

This relationship is clearly intrusive, victimizing the speaker without their permission in a way that paints white Americans as saviors when the speaker believes they have no space to comment on their experiences in the first place. The speaker then powerfully refuses their statements of pity, saying:

“do not write me off an obituary // no one died // i am still // here //

celebrating”

These lines rewrite the victimization white Americans have imposed upon people like the speaker, while also inverting the language of death the speaker has become accustomed to using in terms of themself. It seems through these experiences with white America they have overcome the death narrative found throughout the rest of the collection, resisting the labels placed upon them by people outside of their culture and declaring themself alive.

Igusti’s writing style requires their reader to take their time reading and rereading each line, forcing us to keep discovering new meanings and truths with each consumption of their work. Igusti’s honesty and mastery of writing come together in a beautiful illustration of grief, joy, loss, and celebration, leaving their reader with a necessary, and sometimes jarring insight into the complicated and unique experiences of a Muslim, female, Indonesian, queer identity.

Igusti, Dena. Cut Woman. Game Over Books, 2020. https://www.gameoverbooks.com/product-page/cut-woman.

Darah Schillinger is a rising senior at St. Mary’s College of Maryland studying English Literature with a double minor in Creative Writing and Philosophy. She previously interned for the literary magazine EcoTheo Review in summer 2020 and has had poetry published in both her school literary journal, AVATAR, and in the Spillwords Press Haunted Holidays series for 2020. Darah currently lives in Perry Hall, Maryland with her parents and in her free time she likes to write poetry and paint.

Happy National Poetry Month!

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 4/12/22 Kapua Iao 4/12/22

From Kathmandu to Baltimore: The most beautiful garden by Nikita Rimal Sharma

Yellow Arrow Publishing announces the release of our latest chapbook, The most beautiful garden, by Nikita Rimal Sharma. Since its establishment in 2016, Yellow Arrow has devoted its efforts to advocate for all women writers through inclusion in the biannual Yellow Arrow Journal as well as single-author publications, and by providing strong author support, writing workshops, and volunteering opportunities. We at Yellow Arrow are excited to continue our mission by supporting Nikita in all her writing and publishing endeavors.

The most beautiful garden is an expression of Nikita. It is a collection of poems that includes themes such as mental health, South Asian culture, her mother, and family. It reflects on deep heartaches, dark moments and light moments, pride, joy, and love, with the hope that anyone who reads The most beautiful garden also gets a chance to reflect on the beautiful being they are in spite of the baggage and everything they hold.

The incredible cover art was created by Creative Director Alexa Laharty based on a photograph Nikita provided of her mother. Interior images were also drawn by Alexa.

Nikita currently resides in Baltimore, Maryland with her husband and Pitbull Terrier, Stone, and works at B’More Clubhouse, a community-based mental health nonprofit. She is originally from Kathmandu, Nepal. Nikita is a typical homebody who gets a lot of joy from slow running, short hikes, reading, and deep thoughts. She has always loved writing and started writing at the age of seven when she wrote a fairy tale titled “Star Girls.” Nikita wishes she had saved a copy of it.

Paperback and PDF versions of The most beautiful garden are now available from the Yellow Arrow bookstore. If interested in purchasing more than one paperback copy for friends and family, check out our discounted wholesale prices here. You can also search for The most beautiful garden wherever you purchase your books including Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo. To learn more about Nikita and The most beautiful garden, check out our recent interview with her.

You can find Nikita on Instagram @nikita.playwithwords, and connect with Yellow Arrow on Facebook and Instagram, to share some love for this chapbook. We’ll let everyone know about her book launch soon.

Happy National Poetry Month!

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 4/5/22 Kapua Iao 4/5/22

What Makes Poetry Special

By Rachel Vinyard, written December 2021

Poetry, in my opinion, is one of the most versatile art forms when it comes to writing. There’s little you can’t do with poetry. There are classical forms of poetry—poems with set rhythm and calculated linage—and more abstract forms of poetry—poems following no rhythm or math, free-flowing and experimental. Poetry is for everyone. It doesn’t exclude any experience or truth. Readers can easily find themselves in the poetry that speaks to them.

One thing I love about poetry is how experimental it can be in terms of form. I’ve seen poets make shapes and elegant, well-thought designs on a page using word and line placement. Poems that can be read several different ways for different meanings are some of my absolute favorites. When I see a poem uniquely formatted in a way I’ve never experienced before, my jaw drops. The poem “Brick Lane” by Wendy Garnier, featured in Yellow Arrow Journal Vol VI, No. 1 RENASCENCE, is a poem constructed of nine fragmented phrases placed in a way that you can read the poem from several directions in multiple different ways.

Another example of interestingly formatted poetry is Hanif Abdurraqib’s blackout poetry. Blackout poetry is the act of taking a page of written work, coloring over the lines in black, and only leaving a few words still visible. The visible words are chosen specifically by the poet to form a short statement. In his collection A Fortune for Your Disaster, Abdurraqib creates a blackout poem from another poem he wrote, making the two poems a kind of call and response. Poets are artists, not just with the words they chose but with their placement of them.

A couple of my favorite poets include Sylvia Plath and Mary Oliver. Plath’s poetry acts as a window into her life and mind. This is evident in her poem “Elm,” where she states, “I am terrified by this dark thing /That sleeps in me; /All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.” Plath’s works are interesting to me because they exhibit the vulnerability of the poet. Oliver’s poetry, on the other hand, offers encouragement and peace. My favorite poem of Mary Oliver’s is “Wild Geese,” which is about offering yourself forgiveness and focusing on the beauty of the world. Oliver talks about how special it is to be a part of the world and relish in the peace of union with the line “Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, /the world offers itself to your imagination, /calls to you like wild geese, harsh and exciting.”

Today, poetry can be found in all kinds of places. The lyrics of songs are a prime example of this. In my opinion, music artists such as Lana Del Rey and Taylor Swift have created emotional lyrics worthy of being deemed poetry. I especially love the journalistic beauty of Lana Del Rey’s song “Hope Is a Dangerous Thing for a Woman like Me to Have - but I Have It,” for the line “They write that I’m happy, they know that I’m not /But at best you can see I’m not sad.” Taylor Swift is known for her songwriting, and the recent rerelease of the song “All Too Well” displays her incredible talent. Swift’s line “And you call me up again just to break me like a promise /So casually cruel in the name of being honest” allows me to feel the deep pain Swift is trying to portray.

Poetry is an art that can be found everywhere and, in my opinion, does not have a set definition. Poetry is just whatever you make it. It’s whatever speaks to you on an emotional, personal level. Something that challenges your feelings or makes you feel heard. It’s a place to feel comforted and a look into someone else’s life. Poetry lets you be vulnerable and gives you something to relate to. It’s deep and moving and meaningful. It’s journalistic and experiential. I feel like Emily Dickinson’s poem “I felt a Funeral, in my Brain” showcases this well, because, in her first few lines, she’s speaking directly about her depression: “I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, /And Mourners to and fro /Kept treading - treading - till it seemed /That Sense was breaking through -.”

Poetry is important to me because I believe humans long to experience the beauty and art and raw emotion that comes from it. One of my favorite movie quotes regarding poetry comes from Dead Poet’s Society. Robin Williams’s character, John Keating states, “We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”

There is no law when it comes to the subjects of poetry. It is whatever the poet deems meaningful enough to be talked about. Whether it be nature, a past love, the act of growing old, or the idea of sitting beside a cat, the subjects of poetry are powerful in the way they showcase the mind and heart of the artist behind them. I love Ute Carson’s poetry for this reason. She is able to take a simple thing and delve into the emotional framework that makes being human so special. Her poem “Sleeping Beside a Cat” from Listen emphasizes the little pleasures in life: “but he chose my hair as his favorite resting place. /Nose buried in my sparse locks, he purrs /as his soft paws massage the soft strands.”

We live and breathe poetry. Whatever we do, however mundane, can be reimagined, made purposeful, through the magnification lens of poetry. Poetry makes the ordinary something beautiful and important. It emphasizes heartache and love and the emotions behind the simplest of things. The best kind of poem is one that is able to change your perspective on something, one that shows something in a way you haven’t thought of before. This is why I love the poem “Topsoil” by Meg Crane, featured in Yellow Arrow Journal Vol V, No. 3 (Re)Formation:

Now I think

(maybe)

I might be an evergreen.

Now I think

(maybe)

that barren winter earth

could be the perfect place

to plant my roots.

To me, “Topsoil” is a poem about a transformation and a change of perspective toward oneself. Even when we feel hopeless that we aren’t getting far in life, there is evidence that we are still growing.

The amazing thing about poetry is that it’s for everyone. No one is excluded from writing and enjoying it. A poem that is moving is, in my opinion, one of the most meaningful, because it has the potential to change a part of you for the better. Poetry not only exposes the vulnerability of the poet but allows the reader to relate in the most intimate ways.

Rachel Vinyard is an emerging author from Maryland and the fall 2021 publications intern at Yellow Arrow Publishing. She is working toward a BA in English at Towson University and has been published in its literary magazine Grub Street. She was previously the fiction editor of Grub Street and hopes to continue editing in the future. Rachel is also a mental health advocate and aims to spread awareness of mental health issues through literature. You can find her on Twitter @RikkiTikkiSavvi and on Instagram @merridian.official.

Happy National Poetry Month!

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 4/1/22 Kapua Iao 4/1/22

Meet the 2022 Yellow Arrow Publishing Writers-in-Residence

Yellow Arrow Publishing is based in Baltimore, Maryland, and loves supporting the array of diverse neighborhoods within the incredible city. And through our 2022 Writers-in-Residence program, the four chosen residents will be weaving the influence of their Baltimore experiences with their words. We encourage our Writers-in-Residence to take inspiration from the Baltimore community by writing in spaces representative of their neighborhood, and we hope that Charm City’s influence is present in their writing. Starting today and continuing through May, our residents will write, collaborate, and grow. Yellow Arrow commits to motivating, supporting, and amplifying their voices.

Every writer has a story to tell and every story is worth telling. We are so proud of everyone within the Yellow Arrow community. Without further ado, let’s meet the 2022 Yellow Arrow Writers-in-Residence!

Follow Arao on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook @araoameny.

What will you be working on during your residency?

During my residency, I’d like to revise a poetry manuscript and generate new poems. I would also like to revise a manuscript of 11 fiction short stories and generate a draft for a new story.

How has living in Baltimore shaped who you are as a storyteller?

As a storyteller in Baltimore, I’ve immersed myself in the work of writers with links or connections to this city. I’ve delved into the work of writers like Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Zora Neale Hurston, Edgar Allan Poe, Scott Fitzgerald, Frederick Douglass, and many more. As a person who has always found me in transition, migrating, moving, settling, resettling, and ultimately reinventing the self, I look to the writers of each place I go—in this case, Baltimore—as an anchor and a compass for my own writing journey.

Amy L. Bernstein writes for the page, the stage, and forms in between. Her novels include The Potrero Complex, The Nighthawkers, and Fran, The Second Time Around. Amy’s poetry leans heavily on freeform prose poems that address psychological and political states of mind. Amy is an award-winning journalist, playwright, and certified nonfiction book coach.

Follow Amy on Twitter, Instagram, and LinkedIn @amylberstein, and Facebook @AmyLBernsteinAuthor. Find her website at amywrites.live.

What will you be working on during your residency?

I intend to hold twice-monthly workshops with emerging and experienced female-identifying poets and writers aged 16 and up from across the city. We will focus on a joint project, namely, using our creative imaginations to reinvent Baltimore a millennium from now. Writers may use poetry, creative nonfiction, flash fiction, or hybrid forms of literary expression to envision a future city that celebrates their possible descendants. We will write separately and together. This project will hopefully culminate in an anthology that may eventually be published.

How has living in Baltimore shaped who you are as a storyteller?

Baltimore City has had a big impact on the settings and stories included in much of my fiction and poetry. I’ve written several poems that seek to explore and refract aspects of systemic racism through my sensibility as a white female artist. To that end, I’ve researched specific landmarks, including cemeteries and parks, as well as specific streets in Baltimore, where enslaved people were held or marched down to the docks. Walking through actual landscapes is a huge trigger for the literary imagination. In my novels, Baltimore serves as a backdrop for a variety of plots, ranging from the realistic to the highly fanciful. For instance, in my paranormal romance novel, the Inner Harbor morphs into a shimmery gateway to an alternative reality.

Catrice Greer is a Baltimore-based writer and a 2021 Pushcart Prize nominee. In November 2020, she served as a Poet-In-Residence for Cheltenham Poetry Festival (United Kingdom). Her poetic work explores a range of topics about the human condition including mental health wellness, trauma, healing, sciences, nature, astronomy, transcendence, spirituality, identity, heritage, and cultural ancestry. She is published in local publications, online journals, and international anthologies. Currently, Catrice is coeditor of Lapidus Magazine (Lapidus International, UK), guest editor for IceFloe Press (Canada), and a guest poetry reviewer for Fevers of the Mind (U.S.).

Follow Catrice on Twitter @cgreer_greer and Instagram @Gcatrice.

What will you be working on during your residency?

During this residency, my focus is on completing my first poetry chapbook/collection for publication. This particular collection is about trauma, healing, transcendence, nature, and personhood. I explore the human condition.

How has living in Baltimore shaped who you are as a storyteller?

My stories are tethered to experiences as a lifelong resident of Baltimore through my eyes, personal history, cultural and socioeconomic overlaps, and cacophony of life experiences. Though some of the narratives are personal, some are observational, and others, are universal. A sense of place acts as a foundational marker at times, and other times as a pivot or contrast.

Matilda Young is a poet with an MFA in Poetry from the University of Maryland. She has been published in several journals, including Anatolios Magazine, Angel City Review, and Entropy Magazine’s Blackcackle. She enjoys Edgar Allan Poe jokes, not being in her apartment, sharing viral birding videos, and being obnoxious about the benefits of stovetop popcorn.

Follow Matilda on Instagram @matildayoung28.

What will you be working on during your residency?

During my residency, I will be focused on how I can share the practice and joy of poetry with my community—virtually and in person. In addition to leading a virtual daily writing practice in April, I will also be finding ways to connect with people in my neighborhood around poetry. During this time, I’ll also be working on finishing my manuscript of poems. And I’ll be putting together a chapbook around the idea of “women and other monsters.”

How has living in Baltimore shaped who you are as a storyteller?

Although I’m a relative newcomer to Baltimore, I feel like living here has infused a lot of my writing. I love the streets I’ve gotten to wander down, the people I’ve gotten to meet, the hawk sightings in Druid Hill Park, and the seagulls that hang out next to my grocery store. I also am deeply inspired by the amazing writers, creators, artists, and advocates in this city. There is so much creativity and community to be found here.

We encourage you to follow along with them on their creative journeys over the next two months. Our hope is that you will be as inspired by the arts as they are, as well as the diverse community we enjoy.

Happy National Poetry Month!

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 3/29/22 Kapua Iao 3/29/22

The Power of the Right Story: Why Yellow Arrow’s Mission is Important

By Isabelle Anderson

The first time I was moved to tears by a book, Each Little Bird that Sings, I was in the third grade. I came into the reading class discussion with two crucial notes. First, this book had made me cry. Second, I wanted to learn how to do that with words. So at eight years old, I pronounced myself a novelist and my career took off one copy paper sheet of half-plagiarized story at a time, many of which I thrust the burden of reading upon any unsuspecting, too-nice person. The book, about young Comfort Snowberger whose family owns a funeral home, deals with loss in several forms: the death of a loved one, the end of a friendship, and aging out of childhood, topics that I could connect even to my eight-year-old life, having lost the first member of my family the year before. My uncle Ian, my mother’s brother had often eased the strain of my early fatherless years. Before his death, like many children, I could not fathom loss. Each Little Bird That Sings was a story that reached me at exactly the right time. What was most important about this reading experience was both the connection and the revelation; Deborah Wiles’ Each Little Bird that Sings made me cry then, once I was sold on the power of words, made me a writer.

The second time someone else’s words changed the trajectory of my life, I was 15, tearing through the young adult genre looking for words in the remote shape of my uncertain self. When I read Nina LaCour’s Everything Leads to You in a laundromat in the new town we’d just moved to, I found something I hadn’t known I was looking for. The book’s protagonist, Emi, is a young lesbian with a dream of working in set design. Emi’s queerness exists alongside her love for design, and the narrative introduces it neutrally, unaccompanied by a coming-out plot or a trauma-ridden backstory.

By then, I knew I was queer but didn’t know what that meant beyond the difficulties I might endure. I had read so many of those stories—some exploitative tales exhausted with pain or utilizing tropes that harmfully portray queer women, and many more truly beautiful and honest accounts of the challenges that come with embracing queerness—that I had not even considered the happy ones. Once again, the right story had found me. The lightness of Emi’s story was so tonally disconnected from how I had imagined my own future, but after reading the book, I knew the direction I wanted to take this lifelong commitment to writing. My stories could be those stories.

Yellow Arrow Publishing considers creativity “an act of service,” an idea to which I subscribe, believing the giving and receiving of a story to be one of the greatest tools in enriching human connection. The service that Deborah Wiles and Nina LaCour have done by putting out work that touched my heart—and I’m sure the hearts of countless others—is unquantifiable. Their words reaching me at exactly the right time in my life of truly miraculous, especially considering the challenges women face in the publishing world. To carve out a space for women-identifying writers to tell their stories means changing the culture of publishing altogether. My understanding of publishing has always been that only a certain kind of story gets published and that books with diversity don’t sell as well. This ideology centers publishing around money-making rather than honoring the heart of literature: to express and honor the human experience. Yellow Arrow does not shy away from difference, but celebrates it, publishing stories of women across age and experience.

My work so far at Yellow Arrow has shown me the ways in which a space is being made, not just for women writers, but for women in publishing as a whole because Yellow Arrow provides space on the board, in staff positions, and in learning opportunities in teaching and taking workshops. Yellow Arrow’s mission in publishing women-identifying writers, experienced and new to the craft, gets to the root of gender-based inequity in the publishing industry and applies action to the only real solution: publishing women.

That it took me so long to find happy stories about queer women tells me that so many of those stories simply haven’t made it through the rigamarole that is publishing. Yellow Arrow, one publication at a time, is making it possible for life-altering stories—some that can be as simple as someone like you experiencing and expressing joy—to reach the right people at the right time, and to ultimately change the landscape of publishing.

Every writer has a story, and every story is worth telling.

Isabelle Anderson is a fiction writer and poet from Baltimore, Maryland. Isabelle is currently a senior at Washington College studying English and creative writing, and an editor for multiple campus publications, including the student journal Collegian. You can find Isabelle on Twitter @ibaspel.

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 3/22/22 Kapua Iao 3/22/22

Meet a Board Member: Donna Hutchison

Yellow Arrow Publishing is incredibly excited to officially introduce Director of Online Programming, Donna Hutchison, to the Yellow Arrow family. Donna’s family hails from Baltimore, Maryland, and she spent many summers at the Chesapeake Bay and in Ocean City. For the last 30 years though, she has lived in Boise, Idaho, and travels frequently for her job. She loves spending time with her husband, children, and five granddaughters in the Idaho mountains looking for mushrooms, huckleberries, hiking, four-wheeling, and other outdoor activities. She is a lifelong educator serving both in higher education and as a superintendent of a virtual school. She currently serves in a leadership position at a leading educational technology company. Donna has her doctorate in education and has published work in educational journals, such as Teachers College Record, and is currently working on a book on best practices in online education.

Donna adds, “I joined Yellow Arrow to support women whether through writing, self-confidence, or providing an opportunity for success. As a lifelong educator who has been blessed with opportunities and individuals who have supported my success, I want to encourage other women to find their voice, to join a supportive community, and create opportunities to help in the achievement of their goals.”

Yellow Arrow’s workshops are in full swing thanks to Donna! Don’t forget to check them out and sign up today.

She recently took some time to answer some questions for us. Show her some love in the comments or on Facebook/Instagram!

What do you love most about Baltimore?

I live in Boise, Idaho, but grew up in Richmond, Virginia. My family is from the Baltimore area, and I spent many summers and holidays in and around the Chesapeake Bay. I moved to Idaho about 30 years ago. I love Idaho and the mountains but miss the beach!

How did you get involved with Yellow Arrow and what do you do?

I got involved with Yellow Arrow due to my connection with Annie Marhefka, Executive Director. Annie and I worked together for many years at an online learning company. I currently serve as the Vice President for Educational Partnerships and work closely with K12 superintendents, school boards, universities, and Departments of Education in creating more online learning opportunities for K12 students. My focus in online learning occurred long before the pandemic, and I am an advocate for those students who need different learning opportunities to be successful. One size does not fit all!

What are you working on currently?

We love going to the mountains and have property near a lake about two hours north of Boise. We spend every second in the spring through the fall working on the property and enjoy the outdoors. During the winter months, we plan for the summer projects!

What genre do you write and why?

I am solely an academic writer focused on online learning pedagogy. Over the last 20 years, I did not have an opportunity to write due to family and job obligations but have recently started collaborating with a higher ed colleague on papers and a possible book.

Who is your favorite writer and why?

In the nonfiction space, my favorite writer is Malcolm Gladwell. He thinks about everyday life, business, and education and challenges our commonly held beliefs. His thought processes are so unique and present topics in ways that I would never even consider. He makes you think.

I also enjoy fiction books that challenge commonly held beliefs. My favorite genre is probably fantasy, especially ones that challenge our social assumptions through the setting, actions of the characters, or circumstances.

Who has inspired and/or supported you most in your writing journey?

My husband is my inspiration and support. We are opposites in so many ways, but I couldn’t ask for a more supportive partner to inspire me, challenge me, and motivate me to accomplish my goals.

What do you love most about writing?

In our busy, media-rich world, writing allows you to slow down, process your thinking, and center your thoughts. It forces you to clearly identify your message so that others can truly understand what you are trying to convey.

What advice do you have for new writers?

I think the most important advice that I can share is to focus on time management. It is important to set time aside that is free from interruptions and let the mind explore its creativity. I completed my dissertation when my son was 4 years old by waking up at 4 am when the house was quiet and free from distractions. It allowed me three hours of uninterrupted time which was key to successfully completing my writing and research.

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 3/18/22 Kapua Iao 3/18/22

Tenderness and Terrific Language: A Review of Escape Velocity by Kristin Kowalski Ferragut by Naomi Thiers

By Naomi Thiers

Tenderness. Muscular, crisp language that uses scientific terms. Elegiac poems with earthy tones. Poems in nonce forms (a form made up by the writer for that particular poem). A sense of inclusiveness—of a speaker who welcomes to her embrace both odd metaphors that somehow work and people from her past who have hurt or exasperated her—and also embraces odd words (misanthrope, plushy, shifty-sharp). All these are things I find in Kristin Kowalski Ferragut’s new book, Escape Velocity.

I kept coming back to the idea of tenderness reading these poems. In the speaker/writer’s approach to life, I feel a suspension of judgment; here’s someone who displays great, gentle fondness for the world, who finds joy in a tiger lily, “our beer-soaked weekends,” or in the small ways someone tries their best, even in the crappiest year of their life. How often is tenderness the main feeling suffusing a collection these days? Especially a collection drawing heavily on imagery from physics, meteorology, transportation, and machinery. Take one of my favorites, “Change Takes Energy.” It mixes scientific facts with the raw feelings of divorce and lonely parenting, then ends in momentum:

Thunderstorms rotate into hurricanes, rockets hit

escape velocity over 25 thousand miles per hour, birthday cake

bakes at 350 degrees to tender perfection. No reason to expect

any leftovers. Babies can’t loan you thirty bucks

and butterflies won’t take out the trash upon emerging

from the chrysalis. And she isn’t the one with whom,

You tied the knot, fumbling hands recalling torn-through

mittens on the rope tow because the hill was just too

steep and you never did learn to ski. Gloriously

happy with the band on your finger, all that hide and seek

behind you. He wouldn’t keep you safe or bring you

soup, but still a kind of resting place. Buried beneath

pills and knives, scars and scarves, you’ll never find

him now. You fueled the escape and don’t quite begrudge

it, except in what is misunderstood as finite. All these

Worries of loss overlook what science shows us—renewable

energy in wind, tides, sun, your heart and the smile

you give your kids after taking out the trash.

Each section of the book is named for a term or principle in physics. The section, “Force” deals with two realities: the ache of great changes happening—being driven from home by a fire, hurricanes blowing everything we own away, divorce—and with leaning into change by finding deep friendships and love in late middle age (I don’t know, of course, if the speaker is the poet in these poems—that’s nunmy business—but to me, the speaker of most poems sounds like a middle-aged woman). Hey, Kowalski Ferragut seems to say, there are fresh ways to write about falling in (or losing) love. Two poems in a nonce form (a 3-line stanza with a pattern imposed on the indentation) reflect this. Again, tenderness shows up. Here’s the first stanzas of “Whispers Enough” about new love:

She wanted to love like

a whisper;

Him leaning

in, breath on

cheek; listening.

Her lips curved

upward reaching for

sky; his hands holding

hips to anchor

them both, a kind of home.

Nests, cabins, caves –

homes as well. She considers

tapestry or making do.

And here’s three stanzas from “Transgendered Ex at Son’s Birthday Party,” about an awkward situation involving a past partner:

I think to change into a T-shirt,

something in which I can chase kids with water guns,

something that disregards cleavage and shoulder.

You arrive in a pretty little dress.

It’s edgy, a sweetheart neckline

white with black trim and little crickets and bees

perched about.

. . .

I give you a hug and you feel dewy, like a woman glistening.

Never before good at forgetting, I cannot now remember

what it was like to be yours.

In the section “At Rest,” the poet gets face to face with loss—the death of parents and friends, the burying of a long marriage. But a very subtly funny poem (there are several such poems in the collection) starts off the section. One thing I know about Kowalski Ferragut is she’s a special ed teacher—and she surely has a twisted mind to come up with “If Eulogies Read Like IEPs”:

She demonstrated relative strength

in solving simple equations but required

support to solve multi-step word problems.

. . .

She took on too much. Did too little.

Lacked perspective to know this millennium

is not a Renaissance. She required reminders

that dinnertime came very fucking night.

Although observers note she acted weird,

she maintained efforts to seem normal

This poet observes, with openness and curiosity, people and stories around her: a tantrum-y child (“Repress Nothing”), a quiet man visiting his pet’s grave (“Sugarloaf Pet Gardens”), an imagined 20-something girl who buys a used “Vintage 69” shirt the speaker once owned (“Midlife Legacy”) and falls passionately for her date when she wears it. These poems tell common stories that follow common laws of attraction, repulsion, gravity, and they make me think of a quote I read recently, I think said by Mary Karr, poet, essayist, and memoirist: “Most of what happens to people in life is banal—unless it’s happening to you.” I think of that quote because the stories, people, and emotions weaving through these poems don’t feel banal; Kowalski Ferragut makes them remarkable through language.

Kowalski Ferragut, Kristin. 2021. Escape Velocity. kelsaybooks.com.

Naomi Thiers (naomihope@comcast.net) grew up in California and Pittsburgh, but her chosen home is Washington D.C./northern Virginia. She is the author of four poetry collections: Only the Raw Hands Are Heaven, In Yolo County, She Was a Cathedral, and Made of Air. Her poems, book reviews, and essays have been published in Virginia Quarterly Review, Poet Lore, Colorado Review, Grist, Sojourners, and other magazines. Former editor of the journal Phoebe, she works as an editor for Educational Leadership magazine and lives on the banks of Four Mile Run in Arlington, Virginia.

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 3/15/22 Kapua Iao 3/15/22

Believing in the Power of Love Too Much: A Conversation with Nikita Rimal Sharma

A mere matchstick

I thought myself to be,

feeble in structure.

Needing several strikes for a single second of flame.

(not) just a matchstick

“I believe in the power of love too much,” says Nikita Rimal Sharma, the author of Yellow Arrow Publishing’s next chapbook, The most beautiful garden. This stunning sentiment about the inspiration behind her latest work summarizes the message of her chapbook beautifully: the world is not perfect and yet, we must keep loving it. Nikita’s unconditional love for our world in spite of all the tragedy, frustration, and nonsense is the underlying thread that runs through her collection. Throughout The most beautiful garden, which we cannot wait for you to read, Nikita’s poems touch on the struggles of depression, immigration, and identity and yet are grounded in the understanding that even during bouts of despair there is still hope to be found. Nikita emphasizes that “believing in the power of love too much” allows us to be aware of the brutal realities of the world while still unearthing strength and beauty in ourselves, others, and nature.

And that beautiful sentiment is definitely something visible in the incredible cover of The most beautiful garden, drawn by Yellow Arrow Creative Director Alexa Laharty. After seeing the cover, Nikita exclaimed, “Alexa put my imagination into a lovely form of art for the cover page. It summarizes the title poem perfectly and also the way I would like to approach life: making the best out of what you have, noticing beauty and the vividness of colors in yourself and the things around you. Thank you so much, Alexa, for all that you and the Yellow Arrow team have done for me during this process.”

The most beautiful garden is now available for PRERELEASE (click here for wholesale prices) and will be released April 12, 2022. Follow Yellow Arrow on Facebook and Instagram for Friday sneak peeks into The most beautiful garden, starting this Friday and continuing through April 8. Recently, Editorial Associate Siobhan McKenna took some time to get to know Nikita and the inspiration behind The most beautiful garden.

Kathmandu is the root to my being

[. . .]

Wichita was the blank canvas for the rest of my life

[. . .]

Baltimore is the city that helped me fly

The places that made me

Originally born and raised in Kathmandu, Nepal, Nikita moved with her husband to Wichita, Kansas at the age of 25. There, she completed her master’s degree and eventually moved to Baltimore, Maryland, her current home. In Baltimore, she stumbled upon Yellow Arrow House while walking through the Highlandtown neighborhood; she decided to go inside. “It was almost like serendipity. I got a business card and looked on the website and saw that there was an upcoming class.” The class was “A Year in Poetry” with Ann Quinn and many of the poems that she started in that class are part of her forthcoming collection.

Although “A Year in Poetry” class honed her poetry skills, Nikita has always loved writing as a method to process her emotions. Throughout her life, she has written journal entries, poems, and letters to herself as a way of honoring the ending of one chapter and the beginning of another. In many ways, Nikita’s The most beautiful garden is a work of reflection and synthesis as she braids together her Nepali roots with the life and identity that she has established and continues to create in the United States.

Throughout The most beautiful garden, it sounds like not all Nepali culture resonated with you. How did you navigate this? Are there any Nepali customs that you hold onto?

I had a happy childhood. Here [in the U.S.], I am [a brown minority], but there [in Nepal] I had the privileges of a white person: so [many] good opportunities, but with that came a lot of pressure. But for me, [the pressure] didn’t really benefit me, because every action that I did was judged very badly. I was [in a generation with] access to technology and some things I did were modern, but some members of my extended family were really traditional. So, no matter what I did I was always judged and as a patriarchal society, it was all very toxic for me.

Here, I feel like I live for myself now, but when in Nepal, you live for others. “What are people gonna say?” is at the forefront of every decision-making, and I don’t do well with that. I also saw how my mom as a daughter-in-law or just as a woman was treated because she was from one generation above me and she had less opportunities than me. And all of that really bothered me and never fostered my growth and those are the pains that [I still hold in my heart]. But now that I’m here, I’m able to work through that and create a life that feels more like myself. And that does not mean I am going to give up everything. Obviously, there are cultural things, [family] and friends I will never be able to let go of.

Overall, being from a different culture lends me a different eye when solving problems or in viewing the world. Also, just the food that I eat. I’ve come to realize how the food that I grew up eating was actually a really healthy diet—and I hated that food as a child. It was lentils, rice— the daal bhaat is what we call it, and every meal was that. Now, I can’t wait to have it. So, any time I can have homemade food like that, I feel like I’m home again. And there are so many smaller and bigger things that I take [from my culture] and I treasure them.

You talk about how your culture growing up wasn’t as beneficial for who you are as a person. Can you talk more about the expectations of South Asian women?

[Those sentiments] are specific to my mom’s or mother-in-law’s generation. They have never been taught to know themselves or to explore themselves, and I feel very lucky to be able to do that. If you ask anyone from my mom’s generation: what do you like or what are things you enjoy doing? They don’t usually have an answer. Instead, they will say: “Oh, whatever you like” or “The happiness of others.” And of course, service and making others happy is very essential. But I feel that [they] have been taught to only find purpose in the well-being of others so that they forget to think about themselves and about what is good for them, and you just reach a point in your life where all of that keeps getting piled up and it was never sorted out or healed or worked through and I feel like that continues the vicious cycle of intergenerational trauma.

Obviously, the U.S. has its own problems in regard to the ways we treat women, but do you see similar parallels between your experience in Nepal and the United States?

Kind of, in different ways. I do think that with a lot of things [in the U.S.] we are way ahead although I don’t think [our journey for equality] will ever end. But in Nepal, there are some very basic constructs for women. [For example] when I was on my period, I wasn’t able to go in the kitchen. Of course, those things changed as I grew older and times changed, but those are things that you don’t have to think about in the United States.

In a later email, Nikita added, “There are communities in Nepal that still follow the practice of isolation during a woman’s period and some women have even lost their life due to negligence during the isolation.

Have you found yourself at peace in your merging of Nepalese and U.S. cultures?

Well, I have merged into a lot of things, but I think there are parts of me that will never fully merge no matter how much I try and that’s OK and that’s the beauty of it. Like I said, food is a big example or when talking about pop culture there are so many things! You can mention a song and I’ve never heard of it and that is a barrier. So, there are gentle reminders in my everyday life that make it harder for me to merge fully. At the same time, in recent years, I have been able to understand both cultures to be able to take some of my learnings from this culture and be able to communicate that with my mom and help her navigate her own life [in Nepal].

It is up to us,

to remain a sapling,

give ourselves the permission

to dig deeper

Growth

How has poetry helped your mental health?

A lot. I think writing this whole chapbook has helped with my mental health. I [wrote The most beautiful garden] during the pandemic and that’s when time was slower, and I was also going through a lot of emotional changes. There were things happening in my personal life, and I had a lot of very strong emotions, and I was trying to work on all of that. And writing [about my emotions] and sharing it was hard, but it also helped me sort through feelings. I also sought help from a psychiatrist and therapist, and that helped, but poetry was definitely one of the tools that I used for healing.

Why do we—mainly people who identify as women—still allow ourselves to be shamed by numbers and images even when understanding all the good our bodies do?

I wish I knew the answer because this is an ongoing struggle. In my 30s, I’ve been the strongest that I’ve ever been. I work out more consistently. I run. I eat better. I eat whatever I want. I’ve never been diagnosed with an eating disorder, but there was a point in my life when I was very restrictive with my diet. Now, I eat whatever I want, but that came from a reflection of how all the women I’ve talked to or anyone who identifies as a woman have at least one body part that they are insecure about. It does not matter how much you weigh or your body shape.

I think that . . . I don’t know the answer.

We have made progress as a society to accept our bodies as they are, but I still find it very hard to think of myself that way and I’m sure I’ll learn, and I’ll reframe. But even at this point no matter how much progress I make, I’ll always struggle with body image. If you find the answer, let me know.

Try to love people when it’s hard for you to love:

[ . . . ]

Let the wings of your heart fly to places it doesn’t want to go.

Maybe, this is how we can make the world a better place?

You write about loving people even when they are dissimilar to yourself. This sentiment seems especially relevant right now. How do you see that in action in our society today?

I think a lot about this. Right now, politically the world seems so polariz[ed]. No matter what: my opinion is right, no matter what side you’re on. And it does matter [to an extent] in politics and law and decision-making, but we make it matter more than it should sometimes. And our whole media and the entire world and social media are geared toward making us see all the differences, but then we don’t give enough time and attention to see the things that we have in common.

I believe in the power of love too much. Differences exist. And I don’t like certain opinions, I feel like they’re wrong, but they are opinions in the end. They are not your identity, and they are not the struggles that humans go through. So, it’s important to have opinions based on fact and science, but if we are not willing to find a common ground and to approach things with love and understanding—approach other humans who are different and try to think from their perspective—then I feel like no matter how much progress we make it still won’t be complete or whole for me.

Later, Nikita added, “Opinions do matter especially in a country like the United States where we have people from all over the world and varied cultures.”

You also mention using your voice to spread peace through nonviolence. How do you envision change being made through nonviolent communication?

I think nonviolent communication leads to more understanding. It helps us slow down and think and reflect a bit more. So that the change may be slower, but more sustainable. But I do hope with my language I want to get more involved with mental health advocacy and write more in those areas in a way that is more understanding and relatable.

I also want to use my writing as a way to find more things in common with people rather than attacking [them]. I don’t appreciate on social media when humans say, “Hey, what you’re doing is wrong.” And in coming from [a nonviolent] place, I think we’d bring about more change.

Finally, you mentioned that you’ve fallen in love with Baltimore. At Yellow Arrow, the city of Baltimore is very close to our hearts, but for most people outside of Baltimore, it’s a very underrated city. What has kept you in Baltimore?

I think people are very authentic here and that’s what has kept me in Baltimore. Everyone I have interacted with [seems to “keep it real”]. I have an example. I live in South Baltimore now, but I used to live downtown and the UPS guy in our apartment was the best human that I’ve ever met. Whenever he came in with a package, he always had the most genuine smile. It wasn’t just a customer service smile. It was a hey, I’m-here-I’m-happy smile. In December 2016, I was going through a pretty bad bout of depression, and I think seeing him would always make my day and he has no idea the difference that he made in my life. But just things like that when you’re walking around the city: people do greet you and not in an I-have-to-be-friendly kind of way. They really mean it. When people help here, it comes from the heart, and I think that’s what has me glued to the city—I really love that. For the size of the city, it really is community-oriented.

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Thank you, Nikita and Siobhan, for sharing your conversation. Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 3/8/22 Kapua Iao 3/8/22

An Interview with Sofía Aguilar

By Melissa Nunez, written January 2022

Sofía Aguilar is a Chicana writer and editor based in Los Angeles, California. She is an alum of WriteGirl, an LA-based creative writing and mentoring organization that empowers girls and nonbinary teens through mentoring and monthly creative writing workshops, and is still active within that collaborative community. She has published an impressive body of online work ranging from poetry and essays celebrating her heritage to commentary on female and Latin@ representation in pop culture and the media for publications like LatinaMediaCo and HipLatina. Her passion for uplifting the voices of marginalized writers and contributing to a conversation of positive change was evident from the start.

Sofía is the co-founder and editor-in-chief of Mag 20/20. This past December, she self-published her first poetry chapbook titled STREAMING SERVICE: golden shovels made for tv. I found Sofía’s work resonant and relatable, especially her thoughts and themes surrounding Latin@ culture. Her published essays like “Decolonizing My Latina Hair: How I Learned to Love the Locks White America Wanted Me to Tame” (Offcultured, 2021) and “motherland” (Jupiter Review, 2021) voice issues relevant to many descendants of the Latin@ diaspora. As a writer with a wide range of talents, I was very interested in hearing more about where she finds her motivation and inspiration.

I was able to chat with Sofía during her time in residency with the Sandra Cisneros Fellowship in Tepoztlán, Mexico—one of the many honors she has received in her writing career. The bright room and window mountain scene served as a backdrop to our conversation and were matched by her vibrant energy.

As an organization with a similar mission, Yellow Arrow Publishing was very excited to hear about the WriteGirl organization. Can you tell me about your experience with WriteGirl and what makes it so successful?

I was referred to WriteGirl by a high school guidance counselor because of my interest in writing. My peers were more STEM-oriented, and he saw the need for a creative community of writers I could relate to.

I met so many amazing people through WriteGirl. The mentees and staff, the women mentors, are so incredible. I cannot say enough good things about it. The workshops are designed to introduce you to all these different genres of writing, not just poetry, and [they] opened my whole world. From an early age, I was exposed to these things I wouldn’t have been otherwise. That’s why I write in so many genres. I write hybrid works and love pushing the boundaries of genre. Aside from writing, it also helped me with professional skills (public speaking and networking) that I still use to this day. And I’m still learning so much. I’m still involved with the program as a volunteer and staff member.

I think it is successful because it is led by so many incredible people. They are passionate about their work, and it shows in everything that they do. There is so much deliberate care taken in the building of relationships. I consider myself so lucky to work with them and help foster the next generation. Giving back to a community that gave me so much. They told me my words mattered and that my voice could resonate with people at a time when I most needed to hear it. The whole structure invites people to come back so the work continues.

What do you love most about writing?

I’ve always wanted to tell stories. I’ve always loved words and language. From an early age, I knew I loved creating new worlds and fantastical things. But when I was younger, I wasn’t exposed to people who resonated with me or reflected my own experience. Not until reading The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. She captures the Mexican American experience so beautifully. It was so impactful, and I wanted to do that. To give representation to someone else who needed it. I wanted to see a world where you shouldn’t have to wait to read a book that represents you. I love that I get to celebrate my heritage, my journey, and uplift women, shed light on social justice issues when I write.

You mentioned the amazing author, Sandra Cisneros. Who else has served as inspiration in your writing journey?

Everything Sandra Cisneros has ever written has become biblical to me. Her work is the kind that you can keep coming back to and learn new things, which is rare for me. I read her at a point where I needed her, and she has become such a relevant figure in my life. Other writers that have really inspired me are Jane Austen, who has impacted the way I look at character and dialogue. Maggie Nelson, in her telling of stories through vignettes. It can be really intimidating to see people writing these huge sagas, and I thought I couldn’t be a writer without writing this huge book. She showed me another way to do it. Salvadoran poet Yesika Salgado has greatly inspired my poetry. Janel Pineda (friend and WriteGirl alum) is another Salvadoran poet I admire. I enjoy reading writers across the Latin@ diaspora.

When you write about culture, how do you balance the honoring of family and people with the critical aspect that comes with acknowledging things (customs/values/mores) that need to change?

One example of this is the way I use the Spanish language in my writing. I don’t italicize Spanish words because it is a language equal to English. But I also talk about (in “motherland”) how Spanish is a colonizer language. Spanish is beautiful and romantic and the language of our people, but we have to acknowledge that it is so widespread across Latin America because of colonization. On the other hand, in the United States, Spanish is seen as an enemy language, not to be spoken in certain areas. It is such a complicated dichotomy. There are some contexts in which speaking Spanish feels like something that brings shame or needs to be hidden away, and in this aspect, we should empower it. But also, it is used to silence Indigenous languages. So, there is a need to both celebrate and question the history of the language.

What work in progress are you most excited about?

I have so many ideas for so many things. I have so much to say, and so many ways to say them. Right now, I’m most excited about the novel in verse I am writing. There are so many possibilities for the characters and story. It is challenging but rewarding.

What advice would you give other women writers?

Write the story you haven’t read yet but want to read. That’s what is motivating my novel in verse. Nobody has written this story and it made me ask, why? This is my biggest motivator for writing. When I haven’t seen something done or done well, I want to be the answer to that question. Write the stories you want other people to read. What the world is missing. That urgency is so helpful to the writing process. Write what we need.

And also, rest. This is something I have learned during this residency. I have come to see writing as a service. We are storytellers. Someone here said something like, “Writers think they are not serving if they are not writing. But part of the writing process is to rest. Sit in silence with yourself.” So, you don’t have to be productive all the time. You are allowed to rest.

You can follow Sofía on Twitter @sofiaxaguilar and find more information about her writing career on her website. I am looking forward to reading more of her words. To see her writing what the world needs.

Melissa Nunez is a homeschooling mother of three from the Rio Grande Valley. Her essays and poetry have appeared in Sledgehammer Lit, Yellow Arrow Journal, and others. She is also a staff writer for Alebrijes Review. Her writing is inspired by observation of the natural world, the dynamics of relationships, and the question of belonging. You can follow her on Twitter @MelissaKNunez.

*****

Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 3/1/22 Kapua Iao 3/1/22

Yellow Arrow Journal (VII/01) Submissions are Now Open!

Yellow Arrow Publishing is excited to announce submissions for our next issue of Yellow Arrow Journal, Vol. VII, No. 1 (spring 2022), are open March 1–31 addressing the overarching idea of r[a]ise. At its heart, r[a]ise brings up the idea that one rises as an individual and/or one raises others up. Rising is awakening but raising is also about what we do next as part of us but also outside ourselves: we raise children, raise food, raise awareness, raise questions. How do the two words interact in fruitful ways?”

This issue’s theme is

UpSpring

: to spring up

: a leap forward or upward

: to come into being

akin to a creation story (whether personal, cultural, or communal), a narrative of how something (someone) comes into being

Have you been raised by a community/communities that led to your own upspring?

Can a group or community upspring together? What kind of awakening might be needed for this to happen?

What upspring(s) have you brought into being? For someone or something else? Tell us about something or someone you raised.

What upsprings (in nature, in society, in your communities) have inspired an awakening?

Yellow Arrow Journal is looking for creative nonfiction, poetry, and cover art submissions by writers/artists that identify as women, on the theme of UpSpring. Submissions can be in any language as long as an English translation accompanies them. For more information regarding journal submission guidelines, please visit yellowarrowpublishing.com/submissions. Please read our guidelines carefully before submitting. To learn more about our editorial views and how important your voice is in your story, read About the Journal. This issue will be released in May 2022.

We would also like to welcome this issue’s guest editor: Rebecca Pelky. Rebecca was one of our ANFRACTUOUS poets with her incredible piece “Nuhpuhk’hqash Qushki Qipit (Braids).” She holds a PhD from the University of Missouri, an MFA from Northern Michigan University, and is an Assistant Professor of Film Studies at Clarkson University. She is a member of the Brothertown Indian Nation of Wisconsin and a native of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Through a Red Place, her second poetry collection and winner of the 2021 Perugia Press Prize, was released in September 2021. Her first book, Horizon of the Dog Woman, was published by Saint Julian Press in 2020.

We are also excited to announce that Rebecca will be teaching the workshop “Writing the Archive” for Yellow Arrow in April. The goal of this workshop is to introduce participants to various methods of writing creatively using archival materials as inspiration. While we often think of archives as places where research—in that most academic sense—occurs, archival documents can also be source material for creative inspiration. Archival material is mostly how Rebecca wrote her Perugia Press collection Through a Red Place.

Find out more about Rebecca at rebeccapelky.com.

Check back frequently and sign up for our newsletter as we are excited to reopen journal subscriptions soon!

The journal is just one of many ways that Yellow Arrow Publishing works to support and inspire women through publication and access to the literary arts. Since its founding in 2016, Yellow Arrow has worked tirelessly to make an impact on the local and global community by advocating for writers that identify as women. Yellow Arrow proudly represents the voices of women from around the globe. Creating diversity in the literary world and providing a safe space is deeply important. Every writer has a story to tell, every story is worth telling.

You can be a part of this mission and amazing experience by submitting to Yellow Arrow, taking a workshop, volunteering, and/or donating today.

*****

Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Kapua Iao 2/25/22 Kapua Iao 2/25/22

Reality vs. Memory: A Book Review of How to Sit by Tyrese Coleman

By Rachel Vinyard

“Time doesn't heal all wounds. It may dull the pain of some of them; help make the stabbing, the healing process, more tolerable. It may make you forget that you were even injured, for a moment, but time doesn't heal everything. Time—waiting, anticipating, wondering, hoping—can make things worse, and when those unhealed wounds inevitably reopen, you feel all the pain again.”

Tyrese Coleman’s How to Sit is a collection of essays and stories that make up the memoir of a young black woman who aims to share her trauma. Coleman shares her experiences of sexual abuse and familial discourse, growing up poor, and sacrificing her own happiness for the sake of her mother and grandmother. Coleman’s writing is an exploration of self and an expression of trauma healing. A common idea throughout the collection is this line between fiction and reality. How much of our memories are actually accurate? And why does some of the trauma that we remember feel like a story rather than an event that actually happened? Coleman explores the idea that our memories are not factual. They are based largely on emotion and how past events affected us. There are always multiple sides to a story. Coleman writes in an author’s note that “this collection of nonfiction and not-quite-nonfiction is intended to make you wonder what is and what isn’t true, and whether or not that matters.”

Reading through the collection, I found myself wondering how I can relate to the text and what Coleman describes she went through. Coleman talks about growing up poor, her relationship with a careless mother and a judgmental grandmother. She explains her struggles with poverty, race, and sexual trauma. Her stories are personal but unfortunately not unique. Whether it's the point that women are seen as sexual objects to some men, that this patriarchal ideology is ingrained in the minds of mother figures, or that you are forced to make sacrifices when you are growing up as a poor young black woman, Coleman gets her point across. It’ll either open your eyes to very real and personal struggles some women go through or put your own life into a new perspective. At its core, the memoir relays the idea of looking into the past, whether it be the past of yourself or your family, and uncovers unresolved trauma. In the end, Coleman explains how she was able to move on and finally begin to heal from the trauma she endured.

This memoir aims to share the reality of how distressing events can affect you years in the future. Without explicitly saying it, Coleman talks about symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), explaining how looking back at traumatic events can be a blurry experience. A common symptom of PTSD is dissociation, a process in which the mind will distance itself from a traumatic situation. This sort of paralytic freeze response may also cause the person to form a wall of amnesia between them and the traumatic memory, as to better cope with the traumatic experience. This dissociative amnesia makes it difficult for a person to be able to distinguish fact from fiction within their own traumatic memories (see here). PTSD can blur the lines between what feels like a real memory and a dream. It’s impossible to remember details of everything that has ever happened to you, but when a person struggles with PTSD or has dealt with trauma, the realities of traumatic memories might be blurred with details the person implemented to fill in the blanks. The brain is attempting to salvage sanity in the moment of trauma, resulting in the later questioning of What is real and what is false.

As a collection of nonfiction, some passages written like fiction, How to Sit is very engaging and story-like. A lot of the memoir includes digging into memories and going along with Coleman on her timeline-bouncing journey, uncovering trauma and beginning to process it. Many parts of the collection read like an internal monologue. The idea of fact versus fiction in terms of memories connects readers to the writing, allowing the audience to question along with Coleman in her healing journey. She finds truth in her memories by writing, “If this were fiction, we would’ve gotten to this part by now.”.

Coleman’s writing in How to Sit is moving and relatable. Reading this memoir, I unearthed feelings within myself that I may not have realized were so strong. Some of Coleman’s descriptions of sexual assault and the shame she felt from the mother figures in her life regarding who she was pained me to read. I didn’t understand why I felt so personally affected. The things I read in this memoir surely didn’t happen to me. We came from two completely different backgrounds. But the more I read and the more I heard Tyrese’s voice echoing her broken past, I realized that even though I didn’t relate to the exact circumstances, I related to the feelings. Reading this memoir is revolutionary to those who feel as though there is a fog around their own childhood memories. It allows you to reach inward and discover your own fact versus fiction if you so choose.

After reading this collection, I felt more willing to dig into my own past and start on my own healing journey. Coleman bravely shares her truth and poses the idea that the past we remember is just as important as what really happened. She explores the idea of fiction versus nonfiction in her own life and memories and eloquently expresses how this blurred line has affected her healing process. She shares the reality of how she felt, the validity she has over her emotions despite some of her memories feeling false or story-like. Traumatic experiences don’t have to look a certain way. What matters is that it affected you. What matters is how you go forward into healing.

Coleman, Tyrese L. How to Sit. Mason Jar Press, 2018.

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Yellow Arrow Publishing is a nonprofit supporting women writers through publication and access to the literary arts.

Arao Ameny

Amy L. Bernstein

Catrice Greer

Matilda Young

(not) just a matchstick

The places that made me

Growth

Maybe, this is how we can make the world a better place?

UpSpring

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