your girl's going places

(If you understand the reference, we are now the best of friends.)

'Tis I, Christina, back from the Internet grave to deliver a small roundup of writing life updates for your reading enjoyment. Much Adroit Journal-referencing and happy-choking will ensue.

a lovely surprise

Firstly, I'm thrilled to say that my poem "Confessional" was chosen as one of eighteen finalists in Hollins University's Nancy Thorp Poetry Contest, which takes entries from girls in their sophomore and junior years of high school. This is the first writing contest operated by a university that I've been recognized in, and it is, as the heading implies, quite a wonderful surprise.

"Confessional" is one of the poems that I wrote for The Adroit Journal's summer mentorship program (always good to see that that's still paying off). It represents one of my first efforts to grapple with my own identity as a second-generation immigrant, which has always been difficult for me to write about without feeling dishonest. I hope to make it available for you all to read someday soon so that more of my personal work is out there in the months to come.

a gift worthy of fairytales

I'm happy to announce that another one of the poems I wrote during last year's summer mentorship with The Adroit Journal, "Little Red Cap," has been picked up by speculative magazine Strange Horizons.

The name may ring a bell, and if you've been reading this blog for a while now, that may be because I've mentioned Strange Horizons in past editions of my Fiction Friday feature (now called Weekend Wordfest), in which I recommend pieces of writing around the Internet that have caught my eye. For the fourth edition, I featured O.J. Cade's "Longfin's Daughters," and for round five, I featured Amanda Downum's "Snakebit." For a long time now, Strange Horizons has been my go-to for stunningly creative and well-crafted speculative work, and that makes placing a poem there that much more meaningful.

As I mentioned, "Little Red Cap" was written during my time being mentored by the wonderful Aline Dolinh in The Adroit Journal's summer program—that is, during a time of tremendous creative reflection and growth. It handles many of the topics that were beginning to surface in my work, including girlhood, links between humans and nature, and fairytale archetypes (guess which story this poem retells?). However, I tried to differentiate this particular poem from others I'd written by evoking almost gothic imagery and a distinctly autumnal color palette. (Everything I write has a color palette, whether I develop it that way or not.)

You can read "Little Red Cap" on Strange Horizons here or listen to me read it on the SH poetry podcast here, as well as peruse a wonderful review of the poem written by Charles Payseur of Quick Sip Reviews.

a little rebirth

Additionally, yet another mentorship poem of mine has been picked up by The Rising Phoenix Review. Rising Phoenix focuses specifically on poetry about modern societal issues, an aim that I deeply respect, and they have excellent taste—my dear friend Topaz Winters was once featured there as well.

"Atlantis Revisited" was actually the very first poem that I wrote for the mentorship. The first line had refused to leave my head for what seemed like ages, so it was a relief to finally take it to its natural conclusion. I got some incredible critiques on that first draft and then let it sit for months.

So of course, the first thing I did when I opened up to revise? I drove the poem off a cliff, both in terms of form and tone.

I was rather happy with the result but wasn't sure where exactly it belonged, so it's wonderful to be able to say that it has a new home over at such a wonderful publication.

a distinctly adroit conclusion

To cap all of this off, here is what I feel is the most thrilling news of all: my poem "Misfire" was selected by judge Corey Van Landingham (her work is !!! I'll never be over it / the fact that she actually thought my poetry was good enough for this) as an Honorable Mention for the 2016 Adroit Prize for Poetry.

"Misfire" was a poem that grew mostly out of its title; the word had been rolling around in my head for months before I was finally able to begin unpacking it. I think much of the imagery consists of my own tightly coiled, emotionally charged associations with adolescence—there are a lot of things in it that had been building up over the confusing, quick, wonderful time that was this past summer and the months that followed. I don't think those feelings are anywhere near done with me just yet, but it felt good to sit down and try to write through it, or above it, or in a way that would finally get me to someplace new.

You can read my poem in the Adroit Prizes issue of The Adroit Journal here. Be sure to sit down for a good long while and enjoy the rest of the issue as well—the work of this year's recognized writers (including my dear brilliant friend Rona Wang and immensely talented peers such as Aidan Forster, Brynne Rebele-Henry, and Emily Zhang) is truly something to behold.

Happy reading and writing and growing, and I hope your Tuesday is as beautiful as mine has been.

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I'm thrilled to announce that one of my poems has found a home in the second issue of Wildness, a literary journal that operates under the umbrella of the lovely Platypus Press. I first stumbled upon Wildness, with its breathtakingly haunting aesthetic and beautiful interior, when its inaugural issue was released back in December.

So I will say this: the wildness we seek—we meaning us, us meaning bird and sky—is savage and panting. It’s coming for us all in ways we can’t imagine. But when the bare bones are laid, the sharp teeth gritted, we’ll see what we’ve always known: the wildness lives inside of you. (x)

Highlights of that particular issue include Venetta Octavia's "Say Maybe, the Lake," Daisy King's "Sleeps," and Dalton Day's "Inject / Extract / Inject / Extract." I knew, after immersing myself in it, that I wanted to submit to this journal of yearning and yesterdays someday.

The poem of mine that eventually found its resting place there, "cycles," was written in response to a prompt of just one word: storm. It's an experiment for me in every way, with elements of form, tone, and imagery that differ vastly from my usual work. But I do think it evokes a lostness and wide-eyed wonder that makes its new home a perfect one, and I couldn't be happier.

Head over to Wildness to give its new February 2016 issue, featuring my poem, a good long look—it'll make your day a little gentler. (A poem by my dear friend Topaz titled "Cherry Blossoms" has also settled there; be sure to keep an eye out for it.)

Here's to words that wake up the hollow spaces. Happy reading, and have a wonderful Friday.

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Welcome to the fifth round of #LitLove, a bimonthly series here on the blog!

So what is #LitLove?

It's a collaborative post series that happens every two months. It debuted in December 2014, featuring myself and four other lovely writer/bloggers, dubbed ATTAC:

Alyssa / Topaz / Taylor / AnQi / Christina (that's me!)

Officially(ish) speaking:

#LitLove is our chance to spout our love for the written word in all its forms, and it happens once every two months. It was born from a feverish Twitter fangirling session (as so many good things are) and then put into action. We've got a veritable army of ideas cooking, and we plan to spotlight everything from authors to tropes in the future.

Previously, we've featured brilliant writers Kate DiCamillo, Roald Dahl, William Shakespeare, and Edgar Allan Poe. Today we're taking the series in yet another direction by featuring one of America's most intriguing female writers, Sylvia Plath.

Haven't heard the name?

No worries! I'm here to fill the gap in your reading life labeled 'Sylvia Plath.' Here's an excerpt from her Poetry Foundation bio:

[via]

Sylvia Plath was one of the most dynamic and admired poets of the twentieth century. By the time she took her life at the age of thirty, Plath already had a following in the literary community. In the ensuing years her work attracted the attention of a multitude of readers, who saw in her singular verse an attempt to catalogue despair, violent emotion, and obsession with death. [...] Intensely autobiographical, Plath's poems explore her own mental anguish, her troubled marriage to fellow poet Ted Hughes, her unresolved conflicts with her parents, and her own vision of herself. [...] [Joyce Carol Oates] wrote that Plath's best-known poems, "many of them written during the final, turbulent weeks of her life, read as if they've been chiseled, with a fine surgical instrument, out of arctic ice."

I was first introduced to Sylvia Plath's work when I read her first and only novel, The Bell Jar, for a literature honors project at school during freshman year. (You might have read my rave review of that particular book.) When I learned that she was primarily a poet, I immediately set out to read some of her poetry. This new interest came at a particularly opportune time, since I was growing more and more interested in writing poetry myself. I think reading Sylvia Plath has really influenced the way I look at and approach poetry, and I know it will continue to do so in the future.

Today, I'll be discussing two of my favorite Plath poems. Ordinarily, I'd just pick one, but with Plath it's just too difficult! So here's "Lady Lazarus" and "Witch Burning" for you all.

(Note: I've been stretched a bit thin lately writing/commitment-wise, so this might not be my best analysis + discussion, but DO NOT BE FOOLED. Plath is pretty much my poetic sun and stars.)

About the poems

"lady lazarus"

"Lady Lazarus" is, I believe, one of Plath's best-known poems. It is at once a confessional and a persona poem, meaning that it draws on Plath's personal experiences / emotions and takes on the voice of a character at the same time. It reimagines the biblical Lazarus (who was brought back from the dead) as a woman in a more updated context. The poem is sourced from Plath's Collected Poems and was written from October 23–29, 1962. You can read it here.

"witch burning"

"Witch Burning" is somewhat lesser-known. It's also a confessional / persona poem; Plath's works tend to be confessional, as she was one of the pioneers of that type of poetry. The title explains a lot of it, really—it centers on the experience of a witch before being burned at the stake, although the poem's tone feels, to me, less mournful and more pure or empowered. The work from her posthumous collection Ariel (1966). You can read it here.

What these poems mean to me

I'm incapable of pinpointing exactly what it is that I love so much about Sylvia Plath's writing. Its unashamed honesty? Its fiercely vivid, unsettling descriptions? Its juxtaposition of dark, evocative imagery with lighter poetic forms? These are all certainly part of it. 

But what truly makes Plath's style so enthralling? I don't think it can quite be summed up in words by anyone, and I certainly couldn't do it justice. Instead, I'll talk about some of my favorite lines from each poem (although honestly, any Plath line is more or less a favorite for me). 

(These are just my own interpretations, and if you want to discuss further in the comments, please do! I'm always up for poetry talk.)

"lady lazarus"

I have done it again. / One year in every ten / I manage it——

While the biblical Lazarus is brought to life by Jesus, Lady Lazarus resurrects herself without any outside help ("I have done it again"). It's a power that she has used before and one that gives her a sort of authority over everyone around her. I personally can kind of feel that here, in these lines that feel at once weary and triumphant.

O my enemy. / Do I terrify?——

The boldly feminine yet undeniably threatening persona of "Lady Lazarus" has a certain deadly magnetism to her. She's secure in her ability to rise from the dead, which gives her a fearsome kind of confidence. But she's also very aware of the scrutiny she gets because of that ability. She regards those who scrutinize her as 'enemies,' and she wants to know: are you afraid of me?

Out of the ash / I rise with my red hair / And I eat men like air.

These last three lines make up one of the most iconic poem endings you'll ever read, period. It is, without a shadow of a doubt, my favorite part of this poem. The rhyme is incredibly powerful without being tacky in the least, and it's undoubtedly chilling. Also, GIRL POWER.

"witch burning"

I inhabit / The wax image of myself, a doll's body.

There's so much wonderful subtext here. This line pretty much speaks for itself—it has so many dimensions, and I really think it opens up new areas for interpretation every single time one reads it.

What large eyes the dead have!

This line in and of itself is wonderfully arresting in its simultaneous playfulness and morbidity. I love it. To me, it feels like a play off what the heroine tells the wolf disguised as her grandmother in the Red Riding Hood fairytale: "What large teeth you have!" That innocent fascination, combined with the darkness of bringing up the dead, is a beautifully clever contrast.

We grow. / It hurts at first. The red tongues will teach the truth.

"The red tongues" in this case is taken to mean fire, which I think implies a sort of healing and reaching upwards that the narrator achieves through a lot of sacrifice and hardship. I love this notion a lot, and I keep it very close to my heart.

I am lost, I am lost, in the robes of all this light.

I think this is a gorgeously cathartic ending for the poem, and it's one that really rings true to me. The narrator has had a hard time coming into her own throughout the piece, and so this kind of light-filled 'ascension' feels like a wonderful release for her.

That's all from me, but don't go just yet! There's more #LitLove to be had:

Alyssa discusses Sylvia Plath's poem "Ariel" at The Devil Orders Takeout,
AnQi analyzes Plath's novel The Bell Jar at Moonbeams in a Jar,

and Topaz reflects on Plath's poem "The Applicant" at Six Impossible Things (look for it tomorrow!).

* Unfortunately, Taylor won't be participating in this round.

Do you love Sylvia Plath as much as I do? What about confessional poetry? Let's nerd out in the comments!

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I'm very excited to have a new poem up today in Textploit, which is a gorgeous online publication run by and for Very Cool Young Creatives age twenty or under. (I totally made up that label, but I like to think that we're all in some kind of not-so-secret club.) Textploit has published several brilliant young writers that I really admire, including Meggie Royer, Lydia Havens, and Lucy Wainger. Plus, they've also published my ridiculously talented writer friends Rona and Margaret. Who wouldn't be thrilled to be in such wonderful company?

Also, I love that Textploit is dedicated to helping young people publish their art in an online publishing world that often isn't very friendly to them. From their submissions guidelines:

People always talk about “finding your voice,” but breaking news: you already have a voice. Let’s hear it.

The poem, "Creation Myth," is very loosely based on parts of a Korean creation myth (look, my titling game is so strong) called the Cheonjiwang Bonpuli (that's 천지왕 본풀이 in Hangul). It's most often retold on Jeju Island. The poem's first stanza is a vague reference to the very beginning of the myth: the earth and the sky are originally supposed to have been one great void, and the earth is formed when a gap appears in the middle of this void. Everything heavier than the gap falls down to become the earth, and everything lighter rises to become the sky. From there, everything that exists in the sky and on the earth forms from two large drops of dew—one in the sky, one on the earth. This is very loosely referred to in the second stanza. The poem's last stanza contains a reference to a "second sun," as the Cheonjiwang Bonpuli states that there were originally two suns in the sky. (The extra one is later shot down by one of the sons of Cheonjiwang, the leader of the gods.) But again, all of this is very vague in the poem.

In addition, "Creation Myth" is the first of my Adroit mentorship poems to hit the Internet, so you may notice a difference in style that hasn't shown itself in previous poems of mine you may have read. It's a good difference, though, I think. Hopefully more new and improved Christina poetry (read: more archetypes, more femininity, more intersections between body and nature, all that good stuff), courtesy of a fabulous summer and an even more fabulous mentor, will be coming your way in the near-ish future!

In short: surprise, Christina wrote another mythpoem. (You don't see them in the open often but goodness, do I write a lot of them.) You can head over to the Textploit website to find my poem here.

What a great way to finish off the summer! (School is starting tomorrow. HELP.) What do you think of my poetry? Or of mythology-based poems? Let's chat!

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NOTE: We've reached the 200-post mark! *squee*

I love sharing publication news with you all—simply because a) I like having happy things to tell you and b) you all get to read some more of my writing, which is my way of thanking you for your lovely support.

I'm over the moon to be able to say that I have a poem up in Words Dance today. Some backstory: Words Dance Publishing is one of my favorite places to read contemporary poetry, as it features breathtaking writers and is committed to discussing social issues and empowering marginalized voices. It's been contributed to and/or staffed by poets like Meggie Royer, Ashe Vernon, Azra Tabassum, Caitlyn Siehl, and Donna-Marie Riley. These are among the poets who convinced me to get back into writing poetry. I'd never had much of a liking for it before, but now I'm very passionate about it (you can tell).

So it means the world to me to be able to say that I've placed a poem there.

I don't often write poems about myself, but "Given Name" is one of them. It's an exploration of my Korean name and the meaning of that name. A lot of names in Korea, even today, are based off of Chinese characters and are given based on date of birth, and mine is no exception. My Korean name, according to the official Korean romanization system, is spelled Ji-hyeon in English. Each syllable of that name is based on a Chinese character—roughly, "ji" means "luck" or "good fortune", and "hyeon" means "to be deep (water)".

For those of you who are curious (hey Korean and Chinese readers + those of you who've learned the languages! *high-fives you* *high-fives everyone else too because why not*), this is what my name looks like in Korean and Chinese (my last name is in parentheses):

(임)지현

(任)祉泫

Head over to Words Dance to find my poem. Enjoy!

So that's all, pretty much! What do you think of my poetry? Or of Words Dance?

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