Finishing Line Press Chapbook Competition Deadline June 30, 2011

Hello Practicing Poets, 

The Topic of publishing a poetry chapbook came up a number of times during the class I taught this spring at John C. Campbell Folk School ( April 2011) and in my poetry writing workshop that ended last Monday at Institute for Continuing Learning, at Young Harris College.

 For my students who are practicing poets who have been writing for a length of time and have worked at building a first poetry collection, here is  the call for manuscripts you should read and  consider. It might be the press for you. Five of my former students have had their chapbook published at Finishing Line Press. 

CALL FOR MANUSCRIPTS           

We read general submissions year round.  Please visitwww.finishinglinepress.com  for submission guidelines, and contest announcements and results.

2011 OPEN CHAPBOOK COMPETITION

A prize of $1,000 and publication for a chapbook-length poetry collection.
Open to all. Previous chapbook or full-length publication does not disqualify. International entries are welcome.

Multiple submissions are accepted.
All entries will be considered for publication. The top-ten finalists will be offered publication.
Submit up to 26 pages of poetry, PLUS bio, acknowledgments, SASE and cover letter with a $15 entry fee (pay by check, money order or online to pay using your credit card)

Deadline: June 30, 2011 (POSTMARK).

Manuscript must be a paper copy.  We do not accept email submissions.

Send to

Open Competition

Finishing Line Press
P O Box 1626
Georgetown, KY 40324

USA

Featuring Poet Mary Ricketson in March, Her Birth Month

Mary Ricketson Then and Now

Welcome to LIVING ABOVE THE FROST LINE to Ms. Mary Ricketson, of Hanging Dog, North Carolina, whose poems will be featured in March 2010, in this her birth month. (Yes, also featured this month is the poetry of N C Poet Ruth Moose. Stay posted.)

One evening I answered my phone and heard the voice of a woman asking about my creative writing class at Tri County Community College. It was Mary Ricketson. She said she had been writing and hoped she might be ready to take my class. I said, "Yes, yes." Mary took the class and I saw that she was already an accomplished writer and poet. A while later some of my students asked if I would teach a workshop on how to get a poetry book published. That was one of the highlights of my teaching career. There were six women in that class that lasted for eight weeks. It was hard work, but the program was designed to guide them in getting their poetry collection published, not self published, but to actually find a publisher who would believe in their poems and finance the publication of their book.

Mary Ricketson and the others where asked to choose a partner to work with for the eight weeks. That meant three people would proof read the proposed manuscript: the author, their partner, and myself the instructor. The poets were also asked to read their entire chapbook while it was recorded on tape. Each got comments from the group and each took their tape home with them. It worked very well for Mary Ricketson and her partner who was Glenda Barrett of Hiawassee, Georgia. A few months latere, both woman called me on the same day, both saying the same thing: "My poetry chapbook has been accepted for publication."

MANIFESTO

My body knew

before my mind

made thoughts,

before my voice

found words.

Make peace with loss.

make friends with change.

A candle flickers.

Blue light drowns

in its own flame.

Secret shards

of hope surrender.

Let me live

where crystal clear creeks

slither over small rugged rocks,

slide through the smooth,

and rain and tears are welcome

as sunlight and laughter.

Where birth and death

run the same river bed,

I run my life.

by Mary Ricketson

from I Heard the River Call My Name

Do you want to read more? If your comment

is "Yes", there will be more poems by

Mary Ricketson posted here druing the month

of March

Do you want to buy this book? I hope so.

Finishing Line Press

PO Box 1626

Georgetown, Kentucky 40324

or order on line

finishinglinepress.com

http://www.amazon.com/gp/offer-listing/1599242141/ref=dp_olp_3/103-1642903-7363836

TEACHING THE ROBINS by Janice Townley Moore

Our feature of Janice Townley Moore as Poet of the Month (April 2009) ends today, but what will not end is a celebration of her poetry. I know of no other poet among us who writes greater poems of humanity, poems that are easily accessible with phrses and images that we remember long after reading the poem. --Naancy Simpson

TEACHING THE ROBINS by Janice Townley Moore

If it's true what the Chinese say,
souls can filter into birds like those
two robins outside my window,
swooping down. Their feet land
on March's early green
at the same moment I am teaching
Emily Dickison's grief,
my throat more taut from last year's losses
than the students slumped,
sleeping under lowered brims
of their baseball caps.
The robins stare in at me. They listen
to my voice hobbling over "tombs,"
"the feet, mechanical." They watch me
pacing forth and back befhind the panes.
The students sleep on in their numbness
where poetry does not exist
in the lighted arena of their dreams.
I think of all the dead,
how they do not have to worry
about being dead. This morning
life is on the other side of the window
where one robin remains
like an eye coprehending me,
long after the other dies.


Previously published in Prairie Schooner
and included as the title poem of
TEACHING THE ROBINS, 2005










WHAT OTHERS SAY ABOUT Janice Townley Moore's
POETRY COLLECTION TEACHIG THE ROBINS

Like all fine poets, Janice Towley Moore is a conjurer. Spectres are everywhere in these poems- from a flashlight on the cellar stairs to an out of body experience, from moonstruck deer to teachable robins, all renderd with the magic words exquisitely chosen. Her poems are deftly crafted, moving, and powerful - fortunately, they are easy to summon and savor now that we have this exceptional new collection.

--John Stone, author Music From Apartment 8

Teaching the Robins can be ordered from Finishing Line Press, www.finishinglinepress.com or www.amazon.com

Note: Teaching the Robins is a "Limited Collector's Edition".

THREE POEMS BY GLENDA BARRETT

THE GIST OF THE MATTER

Apple peelings

red and moistened

slide from the knife

onto my calico apron

in a large, curly heap.

I listen to the chatter of

my family around the table.

Over and over, 

I slice pieces from my apple,

and eat them from the knife

like my father before me,

until nothing is left but the core.

That's where I like to begin 

my story.

Previously published in Hard Row to How.

Included in When the Sap Rises.

ONION BED

I remember the day

you began falling

and didn't want help

getting back up.

A few months later,

you bought a bright red

scooter so you could

ride all over the farm

and check on your cattle.

You were proud of it

and showed it to all of us.

I have memories of you

riding through the pastures

with my son on your lap

and smiles on your faces.

One day you asked Jody

to help you work on the fence.

He was only four years old.

When the work was done,

you asked what he charged.

He replied, Five dollars, Papaw.

You paid gladly and laughed later.

Always an ambitious man,

you were determined to work.

One day while visiting,

I couldn't find you in the house

so I walked out on the porch

and looked up toward the garden.

There you lay on the ground,

plucking weeds around the onions.

That year you finished your jobs,

sold your cattle, made your will,

but didn't live to harvest your crop.

Previously published in Nostalgia.

Included in When the Sap Rises.

KINDRED SPIRIT

At feeding times

the female cardinal

is the first to the feeder

and the last one to leave.

Unlike the other birds,

she doesn't scare easily

or shy away as larger birds

light on the feeder beside her.

Instead with courage,

she remains calm and focused

and works hard at crushing

sunflower seeds, one at a time.

Sensing a difference in her,

I inch closer to the window

and notice there is a problem.

She is blind in one eye.

Somewhere deep inside me,

emotions hard to define

start to surface.  I feel

a deep connection,

a bond of some kind,

not only with the bird,

but to something deeper

and on a larger scale.

A feeling of knowing,

no matter what happens, 

there will always be hope

and endless possibilities.

The moisture from my breath

leaves a circle on the windowpane,

and I watch from my scooter,

until the cardinal flies out of sight.

Previously published in Mindprints Literary Journal.

Included in When the Sap Rises.

Thanks to Glenda Barrett for sharing these three poems.

GLENDA BARRETT POET OF THE MONTH - NOVEMBER

Poet, Glenda Barrett is a native of Hiawassee, Georgia. She is the author of a new poetry collection from Finishing Line Press  (Georgetown, Kentucky 2008) under the title When the Sap Rises. Her poems have been published in Nantahala Review, Kaleidoscome, Hard Row to Hoe, Red River Review and other literary magazines.

Glenda Barrett has studied poetry for over ten years through writing workshops and community college poetry writing classes with Nancy Simpson. She is a long time member of N.C. Writers Network West and regularly attends the monthly Netwest poetry critique group led by Janice Townley Moore.

Read three of her poems from  When the Sap Rises below. I hope you will want to order her book.  You can get it  at finishinglinepress.com or on amazon.com.