In all the years I’ve been a writer, the past year has been one of the most complicated, confusing, and – in the way writing often is – satisfying, nevertheless.

One thing I’ve learned and had to learn again is that sometimes I absolutely need to be journaling, everyday. So I did and as the months passed I filled an older journal and started a new one. A few months ago the entries were turning into… poems? And one of them seemed “good,” to me, a suspicion confirmed by a friend, who encouraged me to submit it. I did, and was shocked when it was accepted. My first traditional poem, ever. It’s out in the world now in Stone Circle Review. (Many thanks to the wonderful editor and poet Lee Potts for taking it on.)

Earlier this year, actually almost a year ago, I heard that a novel by the late great East German writer Brigitte Reimann was going to be translated into English – the first of her fiction – and I was eager to read it. It didn’t disappoint, and I wanted to write about it. It took me a long time to gear up and get somewhere productive. I felt like I had a lot to say, because I lived in West Berlin in the 1980s as a kid, for one thing, and because Reimann’s book seemed to speak to so much of what I was feeling about world politics and history this summer.

I pitched my review and was so happy to write about Reimann’s novel, Siblings, for Hopscotch Translation. (Many thanks to editors Samuel Martin and Erik Beranek for all their help and support.) It’s a longer review, but my early drafts were even longer, closer to seven- and eight-thousand words. I enjoyed the novel so much. Its concerns, its style, its mood, and its challenge to anyone who takes the time to consider East Germany’s history and how much of East German experience has been dismissed. (If you’re inclined, I highly recommend reading Working in East Germany: Normality in a Socialist Dictatorship 1961 – 79 by Jeannette Z. Madarász, which I read as background for my review.)   

As for the rest of 2023, I plan to keep journaling, writing poems, reading poetry (I’ve loved Alina Pleskova’s Toska and Patti McCarthy’s Wifthing lately), and maybe if I get the time I’ll create another chapbook, a project I wrote about on this blog earlier. When the year started it never occurred to me how much would happen in my life, or in my writing. I certainly never saw this shift toward poetry, but I’m enjoying it, and hope as I keep journaling every day I’ll find new ways forward, new forms. You never know when the well might run dry, so I’m trying to enjoy it and put in the work while I can.