Flashback to December: the bilingual reading of my translation Diario Ottuso | Obtuse Diary by Amelia Rosselli, one of Italy’s most distinctive postwar poets. Actor Riccardo Pieri joined me to read the original Italian; I responded in English translation, sometimes we switched, and at one point we had the audience join us, reading from printouts of a Rosselli poem in Italian *or* English—up to the individual reader. Fun to mix it up and feel how all the layers of language(s) interact! Rosselli herself was a poet, translator, musician, and musicologist, who produced an “unintentional unity” through trilingual wordplay and syntactic experiment in her personal, often startling texts, reclaiming Italian on her own terms as she grapples with her felt experience as a postwar refugee. At @caffemusica
in conjunction with @entreriosbooks
and Il Punto Italian Cultural Center of Seattle. #poetry #poet #ameliarosselli #italy #italianpoetry #translation #bilingual #poetryreading #caffemusica #poetsofinstagram #interactive #poeta #poesia #womenwriters #diary #diario #refugees #antifascist #rome #roma #seattle #deborahwoodard_poet #womenwritersofinstagram #poetrycommunity #poetryintranslation
I just realized there are a bunch of new faces peeking into this space lately, so I thought I’d throw up a photo that’s actually of me and say hello!
I’m a writer with one book on submission (“a BBC costume drama, but with murder instead of marriage”) and one in the first draft stage (“a working class, queer heroine dances the Charleston and solves murders in sleazy Jazz Age NYC”). ✨
I also write occasional essays about faith and parenting, as well as copy for small businesses, trade pubs, and local magazines. ✨
I’ll read basically every genre out there, and I’m usually in the middle of two or three books at once.
I’ve had 13 addresses in the last 10 years and currently live in the mountains of Virginia with my husband and toddler.
Past jobs I have had include political consultant, model, dancer, actor, and standardized patient. ✨
I drink more tea than is good for me, and I am pro Oxford comma (even though the trade pubs won’t allow it).
Tell me a bit about yourself and how you found your way here! What are you currently reading, and should I read it too?! .
[Image Description: Katharine, in a messy bun and pink t-shirt, sits cross legged on her bed while typing on her laptop, teacup in one hand.]
#AmWriting #AmEditing #WritersLifeForMe #WritingInspiration #AuthorsOfBookstagram #WomenWhoWrite #WritingLife #WomenWritersOfInstagram #WritingInMotion #WritersLifestyle #WritersOfInstagram #CreativeWriter #FictionWriter #WritingInBed #CupsInFrames #TeaAddict #InstaTea #HomeIsACupOfTea #OneQuietCup #CupOfTheDay #TeaLover #TeaGram #AdoreMyCupOfTea #InstaTea
Day 19: blurb for my WIP:
Time’s running out... Rowan Sheridan is a warrior, a powerful being capable of bending time and space to take on the rogues and zombies the triple goddess unleashes on civilians. For centuries, his family has taken on the Morrigan, their successes against her legendary. But if he doesn’t find his talisman by midnight of his twenty-eighth birthday, he faces death—or something worse.
To convince her she belongs to him... Wallflower Alyssa Macaulay has no clue a community of supernatural Celtic warriors lives alongside her. Nor does she know she’s a talisman, a member of that community. Orphaned at age four, she was raised by her grandmother, a druid of uncommon skill who deliberately kept Alyssa ignorant of her true self. A Chance meeting in a bar on a cold winter’s night upends the bookish grad student’s life when Rowan introduces her to their world.
Their love can end a centuries-old curse.
Trying his sign on Alyssa and discovering she’s his talisman, his fated mate, should be cause for their celebration. Too bad Alyssa thinks Rowan’s only looking for a good time and she has no idea who and what they are. The goddess’s imminent arrival doesn’t give Rowan time to show her either. Somehow, he needs to compress a lifetime of training she should have had into a week—and convince her the one amazing night they shared is only the beginning of a lifetime of love. If they can live long enough... Book one of the Talisman/Celtic Warriors paranormal romance series I’m writing. Talisman comes out summer 2019.
(Creating space on Insta posts drives me crazy. Just sayin’.)
(Art taken from Pinterest)
hosted by @debratorreswrites
A letter from a Rape Survivor
Hey society (not dear society)
I'm a rape victim, this is what you call us right?
But I'm a Survivor.
We're not easily accepted by the society, cause for you guys we lost our pride, and it was our fault.
But society, my pride isn't in my Vagina. My pride is myself, might be he Fucked our vagina, but our soul have been ripped apart.
Might be our clothes were too short that guys got turned on and they raped, or our smiling nature gave them a sign that we are open for such actions, or our ignorance to those stalkers made them think that we don't have any problem with their stalking, or our smoking and drinking gave them an open invitation to rip our soul, or if I'm talking with boys in a friendly manner why do you think that we're open for sex? , or. .. (uncountable reasons)
But I can't understand how my bra strap make them to have an instant boner? How my slender legs seduce them? Do they feel the same even when they accidentally see their sister's bra strap or their legs? No! Then why ours? By ours I mean every other girl they see on road.
Yes I've been raped, that was very painful. I wasn't able to to that cause of you my so called dear society. That fear caged me that everyone will look at me with disgust.
I went to the police station to file a report but their questions and eyes raped me again, and I ran away.
But this wasn't our fault, this was the fault of those guys who wasn't able to control their hormones.
If I'm wearing a G-string it doesn't mean that I want to have sex, if I'm wearing lacy lingerie it doesn't mean that I'm inviting a guy for having a feast of my body and soul.
This incident have changed my life fully. People says it happens. Everything will be alright. But are you serious? These wounds won't get healed ever.
Nothing will be alright.
We've always been taught that we've to cover our bra when we're leaving them on string to get dry, to be hushed when we're going to buy a pad, to not to go out at night, not to talk to boys, wear full dresses not short, don't laugh loudly, don't be funny, talk slowly and what not.
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