Call for Bloggers to Celebrate National Poetry Month in April

****Sticky Post****

Anyone who reads my blog knows that I pull out all the poetry stops in April, and this year is no different.

April is National Poetry Month and to celebrate this year, I'm calling on my fellow bloggers to participate.  I need at least 28 of you to sign up this year and celebrate the genre.

I want to assign a different day to each blogger who signs up.  On your day, I would like you to either review a poetry book, host a guest post from a poet, profile a poet, interview a poet, or any other post that highlights poetry, poems, and poets.  If you want ideas, I have plenty...just ask!

It would be great if you have a topic in mind ahead of time so there aren't any duplicates.  I want this project to be as diverse as possible.

What you need to do is fill out the google form below, and I will contact you with your date assignment for April, and all that I ask is that your post is up at least before Noon.  Signups close on March 27.  I will assign dates as I go along, so they will be doled out on a first-come-first serve basis.

The Wives of Henry Oades by Johanna Moran

Johanna Moran's The Wives of Henry Oades begins with the journey of a young family to New Zealand from England, but once on foreign soil, the family is met with tragedy.  Henry Oades leaves New Zealand for a new life in America where he becomes a farmer and rebuilds his life.  The story is based upon a 19th century court case involving a man with two wives, according to Moran's Website.

"Henry introduced the children, clapping a proud hand to John's shoulder, prying six-year-old Josephine from Margaret's leg.  Margaret turned back to the watery haze that was her parents, spreading her feet for balance, her pretty going-away shoes pinching.  She'd been told the river was calm."  (Page 5)

Moran's story is unique and even more intriguing because it has a basis in fact, but in many ways the writing is stilted and it is difficult for readers to picture the settings in detail.  Additionally, there are some details that could be excluded in favor of speeding up the plot, which drags for the first 75 pages.

Margaret is a prim woman from a proper English family, who is thrown into a colony where not everyone is as well-bred as she is.  There's a period of adjustment for the Oades family, but even that adjustment is just the beginning.  With much of the point of view focused on Margaret, the sudden shift to Henry's viewpoint once Margaret and the kids disappear from his life is a bit jarring.  Readers could find that they are not as well connected with Henry and that he is not as developed as Margaret's character.  This stumbling block can take a while to overcome, but then readers are thrust into another story, that of Nancy Foreland, a recently windowed, pregnant woman.

Despite these drawbacks, the struggle of Margaret and Nancy to adapt to a new situation in which they both find themselves as the wives of Henry Oades will keep readers turning the pages.  Overall, The Wives of Henry Oades by Johanna Moran is a detailed account of one family's immigration journey and an exploration of what it truly means to be a family.


To win a copy of The Wives of Henry Oades by Johanna Moran (US/Canada):

1.  Leave a comment on this post about what court case you've found fascinating.
2.  Blog, tweet, Facebook, or otherwise spread the word about the giveaway and leave me a link in the comments.

Deadline March 18, 2010, at 11:59PM EST

About the Author:

Johanna Moran comes from a long line of writers and lawyers. She lives on the west coast of Florida with her husband, John. The Wives of Henry Oades is her first novel.

Check out her Website.

This book is my 15th book for the 2010 New Authors Challenge, and thus signifies my completion of the challenge, though I could be reading more new-to-me authors throughout the year.

If you are interested in the rest of the TLC Book Tour for The Wives of Henry Oades, check them out.

The Writing Space of Nafisa Haji, Author of The Writing on my Forehead

I recently reviewed Nafisa Haji's The Writing on my Forehead (click for my review).  Haji was gracious enough to take time out of her busy schedule to share with us a sneak peek into her writing space and writing life.

Please give her a warm welcome.

Cultivating a space for my writing was the first step on the journey to take myself seriously as a writer—something I had to do before anyone else could. 

Buying a desk that would be mine alone, not something I shared with my partner or anyone else, was important.  I remember brushing aside feelings of guilt at the expense.  It was the intention, the promise that I was making to myself, that was the real point of that investment.

Part of being a writer is reaping the fruit of what comes from having been a reader.  When I sit to write at my desk, behind me are shelves lined with the books not aesthetically worthy of display in the living room— the paperback classics and pulp fiction that I devoured as a teenager, the assigned college reading that left a mark, as well as some books I’ve never read but have kept, the ones that survive the purging I indulge in when I’m in procrastination mode, or when the shelves look like they can no longer hold their burden of past indulgences and good intentions for the future. 

The walls in the current incarnation of my space are a copper color—“pennies from heaven” was the name on the paint chip, a lovely fragment of poetry and music that caught my eye and inner ear and made me think of the people whose job it is to give tempting, marketable names to the stuff we brush on our walls as the background of our indoor lives.

Always at hand are baby name books, my favorite a book of multicultural names that is well-worn from handling.  Also, a couple of dictionaries, a thesaurus, several books of quotations, and a stack of nonfiction related to historical events that may have touched the lives of the people currently living in my head.  

There’s a window, but the blinds rarely go up, the slats slanted to let in light, but not enough to see out.  

The point of this room, whose only other use is for my daily meditation, is to go within, to get away from the distraction of the view outside.

My laptop and what I type into it are sacred, never subject to the social viruses that get passed around on the Internet.  I have to leave the room to connect to the web of the wider world, to check email and verify facts.

In the drawers at my side are files of stuff that I keep for no good reason—one, especially treasured, filled with rejection letters, painful to read when received, that I have learned to savor as gifts over time.

This is my space—one I am grateful to have had the time to occupy, glad for what has come out of it in the past, and eager to discover what grows here in the future.  

Thanks, Nafisa, for sharing your sacred space with us.

Writing Spaces and Other Forms of Solitary Confinement by Jamie Ford

If you'll recall, I recently reviewed Jamie Ford's Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet (click for my review).  Ford was gracious enough to take time out of his busy schedule to share with us a sneak peek into his writing space and writing life, along with some great shots of his dogs.

You know I love dogs, so this was a real treat to see that his dogs act like Charlee does when I'm on the computer.

I hope you enjoy today's guest post.  Please welcome Jamie Ford.

I have a lovely home office, with a door and a lock. Which my children still happily ignore, despite telling them that when I’m writing they should only interrupt if the house is on fire or if someone requires stitches. Who knew that rides to the mall, and “I can’t find my iPod headphones,” would rival such emergencies? Nevertheless, this is where I get a lot of work done. 

The Desk. My neighbor is a chiropractor and has been steering me in the direction of something more ergonomic for months, but old habits (and writing desks) are hard to break. And yes, I’m a Mac guy. I bought an iMac, thinking the ginormous screen would be easier on the eyes, but still gravitate to my trusty MacBook Pro. Scattered about my desk are a Jenga-like tower of galleys I’ve promised to read, my new manuscript (tentatively titled Whispers of a Thunder God), my current itinerary, a photo of my parents, and an assortment of iTunes gift cards and desktop statuary made by my kids. The map is of the North Pacific, circa 1943.  

The Shelf. Actually, shelves. My office is filled with assorted knickknacks. Daruma dolls—you color one eye when you make a wish or set a goal and color in the other upon completion. I have two, you can guess what they’re for. I have a small urn with some of my father’s ashes—a morbid little paperweight (thanks dad), a snuff tin, used by my grandmother who actually chewed the stuff, and my gloves from when I used to compete in karate tournaments, with a tarnished silver medal. 

The Floor. My carpet is usually covered with an assortment of barely animate objects—my dogs, which are easily mistaken for throw rugs. There’s a doggie bed in the corner, but they still prefer the floor. They’re great to bounce ideas off of and they always let me know when the UPS man arrives. 

That’s my space in a nutshell. I’ve tried writing at the library, or the local coffee pub, or in the back yard on a sunny afternoon, but I love being surrounded by my notes and maps and such. Plus I don’t have to chase them all over the lawn when the wind blows.

Thanks, Jamie, for taking the time to share with us a sneak peek inside your writing space.

The Writing on my Forehead by Nafisa Haji

Nafisa Haji's The Writing on my Forehead transports readers into another culture and the struggles that members find themselves in as the world around them evolves, causing clashes between modernity and the past.  Told from the point of view of Saira, readers are taken on a very personal journey into the past, uncovering the deep secrets of Saira's grandmother and grandfather as well as her own parents.  The dynamic between Saira and her sister is only partially shown, with the point of view of Ameena silent.  From fate to choices, each character must follow their path to the end -- no matter what it holds for them.

"I close my eyes and imagine the touch of my mother's hand on my forehead, smoothing away the residue of childhood nightmares.  Her finger moves across my forehead, tracing letters and words of prayer that I never understood, never wanted to understand, her mouth whispering in nearly silent accompaniment.  Now, waking from the nightmare that has become routine -- bathed in sweat, breathing hard, resigned to the sleeplessness that will follow -- I remember her soothing touch and appreciate it with an intensity that I never felt when she was alive."  (Page 1)

Saira grows into an independent woman who is running from her culture and tradition to find herself grasping for it in the darkest moments of her life.  As an American with a strong Pakistani-Indian heritage and a mother reminiscent of Mrs. Bennet in Pride & Prejudice, it is no wonder that she rebels against tradition and culture to become a traveling journalist.

"I shudder, now, to think of how my mother, trying hard and failing to be subtle, got the word of my availability -- accompanied, I learned later, by a full-size, glossy headshot -- out on the proverbial 'street' where desi families gathered and speculated, assessed and collated young people into the 'happily ever after' that getting married was supposed to promise."  (Page 191)

Haji's prose is eloquent and engages not only the readers' sensibilities and emotions, but their inquisitive nature as family secrets are unraveled.  Saira is a complex character who searches for a center, an axis on which she can revolve and become grounded.  While she is connected to family, like Mohsin and Big Nanima, throughout her life because they are in effect the outsiders of a culture she rejects, she continues to struggle with her other relations -- her sister, Ameena, her mother and her father -- because they represent to her a culture she finds limiting.  The Writing on my Forehead provides a variety of topics for discussion from political imperialism and its consequences to the tension between the modern world and tradition and the modern dilemmas facing adolescents striking out on their own to the loss of family -- making this an excellent book club selection that will inspire debate and introspection.

About the Author: (From her Website; Photo Credit: Robert Stewart)

Nafisa Haji was born and mostly raised in Los Angeles—mostly, because there were years also spent in Chicago, Karachi, Manila, and London. Her family migrated from Bombay to Karachi in 1947 during Partition, when the Indian Subcontinent was divided into two states.  Nafisa studied American history at the University of California at Berkeley, taught elementary school in downtown Los Angeles for seven years in a bilingual Spanish program (she speaks Spanish fluently), and earned a doctorate in education from the University of California at Los Angeles.   She started writing short stories at first, which then developed into an idea for a novel. She now lives in northern California with her husband and son and is currently working on her second novel. Nafisa maintains close ties in Pakistan, traveling there regularly to visit family.

This is my 2nd book for the 2010 South Asian Author Challenge.

This is my 14th book for the 2010 New Authors Challenge.

If you are interested in the rest of The Writing on my Forehead blog tour, please check out TLC Book Tours.