Porthole

Final stretch

Another oldie posted for a contest. There weren't many contests back in the day.

One ... Mississippi ... Two  (ASR) Kansas perspective as Hurricane Dennis approached Mississippi. Then Katrina hit. #989304 by Kåre เลียม Enga

I intend to be almost caught up by the end of the day.

Tuesday... I'm not doing well. Even with the fan on didn't sleep well. Nightmares. Better to get up fairly early. 68 degrees at 8 a.m.

My thoughts wander. How 'democracy' can stifle the voices of the most creative, the most marginalized people. Even here at WdC. If White women are the main demographic and the main judges and owners of contests then it shouldn't be a surprise if works have a slant in that direction.

How many poems or stories deal with being Black or Hindu or Lesbian? And yes, you can be all three. How will these stories be read if they are not written? Once written will they be understood? Many interactions are universal. But a story placed in Mumbai or Durban may not connect with a suburban middle-American, even if the protagonist is middle class, blessed with a son and daughter who are giving her grey hairs. And when they move to Biloxi, Mississippi? She'll still be Black, Hindu and Lesbian but in a foreign culture with new rules to navigate.

I think people at WdC try to understand but I've had comments that indicate to me that my 6th grade level writing (I seldom write at higher levels) uses vocabulary that is regional or class-based. I'm sure some have to look up a word or two. But... much writing here avoids flavor in writing style, vocabulary, theme or setting. Whether it's fantasy or fiction it's firmly based in an Anglo-world of monolingual anglophones with a terminal case of anglophilia.

At some level we write what we know and if all we know is bound by a life that goes round and round like the roads of Pleasantville... then that's all we know.

So what about me? How complicit am I? Do I write about what I've personally gone through, sharing a 'memory' in a blog or fictionalizing it for a poem or story? I share more than I realize but less than I could. My traumas are tricky; it's like negotiating Michigan potholes in March. My life-long risk aversion sets off alarms every time I come close to "revealing too much".

Personally I'm not doing well. And I have no one to share that with that I trust. My best friend ghosted me 18 years ago. It's been a long drawn-out death rattle since.

And that's what most of my writing is. A death rattle.


I told Max Griffin 🏳️‍🌈 : My first reaction was sh*t... I didn't expect this. Then tears flowed because it's been a rough couple of days. Even good news is too much to bear. I should just bow and say thank-you.

I entered the contest because I'm not a natural story teller and want to improve. I like the way the contest is set up with a different focus each time with awesome guidance as to what that is. I do hope to enter again.

I bow. Thank-you,

K (as in Cory)

This is why: First Place, June 2021 Cross Timbers Contest to

STATIC

Á Ragnvadr (Ragnvadr's River)  (13+) If Ulla fails, the soul of her people dies, their flesh burns and hearts harden like lava. #2252724 by Kåre เลียม Enga

Also:

Finished and posted: "Before Fed-Ex Delivery"  It reads more like guided meditation.
Posted: "When a moment lasts a lifetime" 
Posted: "As Seen On TV" 
Posted: "In the Lands of Saint Mother Teresa [96]"  Not happy with it.

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