Sighting the Eye

Here's evidence that the Giant Ice Eye has not yet gone extinct! Happy Solstice to all.

The Failure of Geometry

That's the title of my poem that has just gone online at the fantastic The Pedestal Magazine. You can hear me read it aloud.

To the Teahouse

Here's a new poem I wrote about Japan online at a magazine named Sleet.

Bad Toys and Perishable on Labor Day

Two new poems of mine went online today at The Brooklyner. What's new? Audio recordings of me reading them. Here's a link for Bad Toys and one for Perishable. Let me know what you think.

New Poem Published: Inmates

Click on this blog post title to find The Montucky Review and my poem "Inmates" which I wrote while facilitating a reading group in the Concord State Men's Prison.

A New Story Online: The Green Balloon

Here's an unusual style of story for me: a futuristic fable about a ritualized initiation into adulthood. (Click on the title for the link.) I wrote "The Green Balloon" in a workshop led by Ursula Le Guin who challenged us to write compelling stories without the traditional reliance on conflict (man vs. nature, man vs. man, man vs. himself). If you like it--or any of the stories in The Lorelei Signal--be sure to click the Facebook like button at the end. If you REALLY like it, click the donation button and give $1 (or more) to provide royalties for the authors and keep sites like The Lorelei Signal in business offering fantasy and sf fiction with interesting female characters.

By the way, I chose 20 as the age of initiation because Japan's legal age for adults is 20.

Gringo Tango

Here is another short story of mine, this one set on the coast of Costa Rica where I lived in 1979-1980. (Click on the title to link to The Pedestal Magazine where it was published for the April 2011 issue.) I had written a longer draft of this years ago, sent it around, and didn't get any takers. Teaching my short story class this semester, I became intrigued by man/woman dialogue stories such as Hemingway's "Hills Like White Elephants" and Lessing's "Wine". I dialed back the point of view, cut it down to 1500 words, and used both past and present tense to tell a running backstory simultaneously with the current story. Let me know what you think!

Norton Island Residency

I am so honored--and lucky--to have been awarded a Norton Island Residency this coming July! Norton Island is a 150-acre wilderness preserve north of Bar Harbor, Maine. What a beautiful place and opportunity to focus only on my novel in progress.

Welcome, AAUW Book Club!

Please feel free to use this post to comment on our chat and ask any questions. Thank you for choosing American Fuji for your April selection.

Tsuki o miru

That's Japanese for "looking at the moon" and a five-syllable start of many a haiku. I watched last night's supermoon and saw in the craters the image of a rabbit pounding rice with a traditional Japanese mortar that looks a lot like an American butter churn. While Westerners struggle to see the face of a man in the moon, for thousands of years, Japanese have seen the mochi-making rabbit. Once you see the rabbit, you can't go back to seeing the man. I hope--in this year of the rabbit--last night's image on the moon brought some measure of comfort to everyone in Japan.

Blog Lapse & Diversion

My lapse of blogging since the year began is due to a pernicious eye inflammation that limits my computer and reading time. While I don't expect to post on my former twice a week schedule for awhile, I did want to let my loyal readers know where they can read a story of mine online.

Perhaps this mother/daughter story set in the California desert will be a welcome distraction from our concern about Japan.
Creosote Women by Sara Backer

March Earthquake

I am so worried about Japan. I remember middle-of-the-night earthquake drills when I lived in Shizuoka. I would hear loud, garbled Japanese over loudspeakers, and hear my neighbors move around and leave their apartments. I had no idea what to do, so just got dressed and stayed in my apartment hoping for the best. I also visited northern Japan, so when I watch the news, I am seeing places I have walked. I was in Sendai for the Tanabata festival, walking block after block of streets below beautiful hand-made circular banners . . .

And now, the Fukushima power plants have exploded. I barely know what this will mean for Japan and the world.

The Japanese would say shikata-ga nai (it can't be helped). All I can do is go on living my life while my thoughts keep straying to my friends in peril and the country I came to regard as my second home.