Zen Postcard #11

Photo post. Source: Zen Postcard #11

Because I needed some Zen right now.

Warm regards,
Kellie

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Mira Jacob Gave a Compelling Speech at PubWest 2016, Listen Here

Hello friends,

A few weeks ago I was given the opportunity to hear a woman named Mira Jacob talk. It was for my Business of Book Publishing class, and it was a recording from a speech given at PubWest 2016. Mira Jacob, you may recall, is the woman who tried to give a speech about diversity last year and no one listened.

The speech is powerful. It’s centered on diversity and race in publishing, but, really, it’s about more than that, it’s about making humans understand each other, about doing the work to make everyone feel included, represented, and respected. Everyone should listen to this speech, regardless of if you’re in the publishing business or not. Everyone needs to hear these words.

 

Listen. Because what she’s saying really matters. And let me hear your thoughts about it in the comments, I’d love to start a dialogue about this.

Warm regards,
Kellie

Togowoods: An Alaska Cabin

Togowoods: An Alaska Cabin

I decided to go to Togowoods today.
The cabin is still simple and old,
there are no heaters, just a fireplace without any wood.

I walk outside to the only restroom for miles around,
an outhouse, and not a very good one at that.

As I open the door, it creaks, the sound is
similar to the one I remember all those nights ago.
The outhouse was scary back then
a long walk down a steep hill, icy from snow,
and dark from the absence of any electricity.

It was the 3 o’clock-in-the-morning-bathroom-runs
that showed who your true friends really were,
the outings where we swore monsters would get us
or at the very least a moose would charge.

Where the round seats were bigger than necessary,
and had a thin sheet of stick-to-your-ass frost
we always forgot about until it was painful to get back up.

Where the spider-webs and icicles melted together,
gossamer strands, unable to decipher the difference
until an angry arachnid suddenly appeared on your shoulder.

Where, when finished, I would shut the door
on the frozen hole they called “the outhouse”
and look up into the night sky, the stars glittering like jewels,
and feel the infinite emptiness
of that vast space pushing down on us
until we were ants on a blacktop,
crawling helplessly over pieces of sand
that were really mountains.

Where I first realized we were merely specs in space,
that earth, which seemed so big to my ten-year-old self,
was just one tiny planet compared to the millions of others.

Where the sun, our sun, the life-giving force
that brings us heat and energy,
the center of our solar system,
could be just another star to somebody else.

Now, ten years later, I am taller and wiser,
I know there is nothing scary about an outhouse.
Yet, the fact still remains; I am no larger than I felt
that one moment so many years ago.
A tiny speck on our edge of the universe.

Have a lovely evening, guys. Also, just so you know, Write to Publish 2016 went AWESOME! I’ve been recovering from it and starting on a whole new project {details to come} for Ooligan Press.

Warm regards,
Kellie