Easter Sunday skies
through pale blue grey clouds light pours
on a lonely beach.
Author: Rose Booker
My First Easter in Edmonds
I set my GPS to Marina Beach. It’s about 10 minutes away from my studio apartment. I didn’t know what to expect when I got out of my car and started following signs to the park.
The first thing I saw was boats. Boats, boats, and more boats.
All set in the emerald waters of the harbor, waiting for their captains to set sail.
Being from the CA Bay Area, boats weren’t that new or exciting. It wasn’t until I crossed the bridge over to the Marina that I was blow away by the view.
Blue grey skies with light steaming down between the gaps in the clouds, sea salt catching in the breeze, sea fowl chattering to themselves.
The feeling that swelled in me was an epiphany mixed with awe.
And the disappointment of not having my notebook with me on this Easter Sunday.
So, like a true Millennial, I decided to blog about this experience.
Today, I feel like I have finally come home to the Pacific Northwest.
Astronomical Spring

the axis of Earth
increases its tilt
and the length of daylight grows
snow capped mountains
drip down hills
and into streams they flow
astronomers mark
this changing pattern
as the temperature goes
above freezing
with children sneezing
and now everyone knows
Writing Prompt: Library in Blood

A good friend of mine told me of a new advancement in data storage technology.
It may soon be possible to store an Alexandria size library in a drop of blood.
For today’s writing prompt: Write a story or poem that takes place in a world where non-biological data is stored in DNA.
What kind of non-biological data do most people store? How is it used? How is it accessed? What are the pros and what are the cons? How has this changed the world? For the better? For the worst? Or just the same except cat gifs now play on people’s arms?
Writing and Other Jobs

What do the following professions have in common?
– A Janitor
– An Airline Reservations Attendant
– A Coffee Shop Employee
– A Potato Chip Inspector
– An Apothecaries’ Assistant
Answer: Each were jobs held by famous writers. Stephen King was a Janitor. Harper Lee was an Airline Reservations Attendant. Margaret Atwood was a Coffee Shop Employee. Octavia Butler was a Potato Chip Inspector. And, of course, Agatha Christie was An Apothecaries’ Assistant.
And I too have held many different jobs. I have worked for the Department of Labor, a tutoring center, and two educational non-profits.
When I was graduate student for San Francisco State University, I worked as a Teacher Assistant for a course on the Business of Creative Writing. The point of the course was the address the very valid concerns of young writers.
HOW WILL I MAKE A LIVING AS A WRITER?
The truth is there is no straightforward equation or path when you chose to write for a living. There will be people who claim there is. That they have done it one way and it worked. But that’s the thing. That was THEIR path.
THERE ARE THOUSANDS OF PATHS.
The three things that are consistent between all paths where art and literature are concern are as follows:
1) those who want to create, consume the things which they wish t create with relish
2) those who want to create, create daily, weekly, monthly, yearly
3) those who want to create, do not give up in the face of rock bottom – they keep going and they keep submitting
Those who WISH to create, give up. They put off creating. They consume things that don’t remind them of their dreams.
Writers are readers, they produce, they submit, and they do not give up.
What does that mean for practical advice? If you need to eat to write, then work somewhere for a while and write. I work as a Toddler Assistant Teacher for a nonprofit. I write and read everyday, either on my tumblr or twitter, or facebook, or wordpress. The work with my students has given me the privilege to read more children’s books. It is a dream of mine to write a children’s book. Will I get there? Maybe, maybe not? Will I give up…
NO.
As long as Dragon’s Den is up and the internet exists, I will write. This is my pledge. To you, my audience, and my fellow writers. Do not give up, do not surrender, and always keep writing.
For more on the different professions held by famous authors, click here.
A Command

Chase the tail
of Newport smoke
through tangled
purple haze.
Watch it curl
through humid air.
Witness as the tail gives
way to claws
carving crevices
into our mattresses
bed sheets
pillows.
Follow the residual
black lines
like a scaled
underbelly.
Trace the ashes
back to where
the Dragon’s eye
pulsates crimson
with each
unstable
breathe.
Sonnet to The Lunar New Year
May the 2016 calendar show
astronomical phenomena days,
where spring solstice and winter new years grow,
and dark moons set the beginning ablaze.
Lichun signifies the beginning of spring
over 7000 miles from me.
Frost clings, gutters sing, and birds take wing;
sweet promises of warmth brought by the sea.
The year of the monkey has just begun.
The age of humanity was announced.
Our link to earthbound time is undone.
We’ve left traces of us in every ounce.
Yet, let us hold on to traditions past
when we looked to the stars to help us last.
First Poetry Reading in Washington

Hello my Lovelies!
After a long four months of settling into my new home, finding a bed, assembling evil Ikea furniture, etc … I knew I had to find where local writers and poets hang out and meet each other. Through the website, MeetUp, I was able to find several poetry events in and around the Seattle Area. Tonight, I went to the February Poetry Night even at Tsuga Fine Art & Framing. The owner, Ken (whose last name escapes me like so many nouns) and his wife host the event at 7pm on the 2nd Saturday of each month.
Tonight, the feature poet was Francie E. Walls. As her biography states, Ms. Walls has worked as an English teacher, college librarian, library director and professional photographer. Her poems appear in the book, Writing Across Cultures: A Handbook on Writing Poetry and Lyrical Prose, and magazines such as Pontoon, Arnazella, PoetsWest Literary Journal, and the RedWing Anthology. She has traveled around the United States and to Africa, Cuba, England, Wales, Ireland, Europe and the Middle East.
But, most of all, her poems are beautiful.
She opened the night with a theme and a goal — she was taking us to places we have never been before.
And she did. Vivid, poignant, expressive, and moving, Ms. Walls’s poetry often kept me from taking notes. The first poem, “Chrysanthemum Cafe” plucked me from my notebook and sat me into a lovely cafe with a tea called blue people. She wrote about deserts and circus and child birth and death with such a deft hand that I wondered if she had speaking from first hand experience.
Ms. Walls set the mood for the night and each poet that read afterwards was a joy. Many of the poets were established (published) writers. Talia Jin, a young poet, performed a spoken word piece called “Cigarettes” and read her poem “Sound of my Planet,” which was inspired by the sounds of planets as recorded by Nasa. Terry Bush, like many of the older poets, spoke about the desert and the lack of rain (while it was raining outside). He also read a beautiful Valentines Day poem, which was dedicated to his wife.
Kevin O’Conner read several love poems. In one there is an equation 1 + 1 = ∞ when you are in love. A line that stood out was “What does math have to do with love?” I enjoy his wit and his honesty.
There were many other poets and writers of note at the event. If you are ever in the Bothell, WA on the 2nd Saturday of the month, stop by this event.
I do plan on attending again.
Until next time, my lovelies.
Peace, love, and pancakes.








