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Amanda M. Blake

~ Of fairy tales and tentacles

Amanda M. Blake

Category Archives: Poetry

The Worms are Coming: Friday Update

28 Friday Jul 2023

Posted by amandamblake in A Few Thoughts, Poetry, Writing

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Tags

acceptance, bathroom horror, books I'm reading, drip, horror poem, insomnia, music I'm listening to, poem of the week, rejection, that old house the bathroom anthology, voices of the mausoleum, writer life

Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com

News:

My story “Drip” is featured in That Old House: The Bathroom, which is a collection of stories that take place in a bathroom. One of the requirements of the call was that there be no gross horror, so it won’t be that sort of horror. I actually made a point to write Drip in a more poetic style, because there’s beauty in bathrooms, too.

Right now, it’s only available as e-book, because Ingram Spark is throttling indie publishers everywhere, slowing down to a bloody crawl and being pissants with their customer service. I don’t even use them, and I’m pissed. Like, I’m sorry, do you want Amazon to be the only game in town?

Hopefully, the paperback will be available soon.

After such a great last week with some dream acceptances, this week had a few gut punches (although one of those gut punches came in the form of a great personal rejection).

My acceptance rate right now is about ten percent of what I submit, which doesn’t seem to be atypical, and most of it flash/near-flash length for lower pay. There’s no guarantees, there’s no coasting, at least not for me at this time. Ninety percent rejection is just part of the game, and it doesn’t bother me much anymore. I give myself up to thirty minutes of mourning. Then I take what didn’t work for one publisher and try to figure out who to send it to next. One of those rejected pieces was already marked for another market if it didn’t make it.

Some writers simultaneously submit, and maybe that would make more business sense, but it seems a bit of a gamble for me, especially if you sim sub for drastically different pay rates and the lower pay rate accepts it first, but you don’t know if the other market will accept it at all. I’d rather just write a lot and send things out one at a time so I know exactly what I’m getting into.

Works in Progress:

I finished writing and editing the last patch of short stories for some August submission calls.

Now I’m a chapter into my first of two edits on Crooked House (Thorns 5), which I need to send my editors in August. It’s the shortest of the Thorns novel, which doesn’t mean it’s short. I do love the process of cutting a novel, though, even more than short stories.

After Crooked House, I’ll tackle the double edits of a short novel/novella, which will include a slight rewrite. But that won’t be for a bit, since Crooked House will take up a lot of time.

Books I’m Reading:

IT by Stephen King
Nightbitch by Rachel Yoder
Discount Armageddon by Seanan McGuire

Music I’m Listening To:

American Idol cover singles
All I Ever Wanted by Kelly Clarkson
All of Me by Mandy Harvey
“Mystery” by Hugh Laurie

Things I’m Watching:

Scream series
CSI series
Great British Baking Show: Junior Bake-Off series
Blacklist series
Young Sheldon series
Triangle movie
Snow White and the Huntsman movie
Old movie

Poem of the Week:

i don’t think i ask for much
cool sheets and empty room
empty bed under the covers
until my toes wiggle not
scrabble against the fitted

a long sleep in a cold room
cold cold empty empty room
cold cold empty empty dreams
not a single scream in the dark
or in the sweat-stained tangle
of the desperate savior of a dawn

every night i am denied
every night i am pursued
every night the darkness writhes
with shadow and blacklight forms
floating in the air in my eye
i am why we can’t have nice things

“All-Nighter”

03 Saturday Jun 2023

Posted by amandamblake in Poetry

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Tags

all-nighter, college life, Poetry, weird horror

Photo by Francesco Paggiaro on Pexels.com

I had a vivid memory of college essay all-nighters and the weird way I felt on the other side of them, felt this intense compulsion to capture it.

At the end of an all-nighter
I am deadmanwalking I am shambler
I am three bottles of coffee
and sugarmilk buzzing hornets
through my bloodstream and still
eyelids droop like broken shades
At the end of an all-nighter
words blur and syntax stops
making sense in every sentence
no matter how many times I
repeat and repeat and repeat
to proofread a misktae is always
left behind after the paper is graded
but all that matters now is that
it is finished ended entered submitted
At the end of an all-nighter
the sunrise looks wrong and
the shadows in the bedroom
are in the wrong place when
I’m deep in the covers cave
to hibernate until next class
At the end of an all-nighter
I am a god I can see all things
the mist of fluorescent light
and the parts of things the
pixels of the fabric of reality
static shifting so prettily
At the end of an all-nighter
I am an olddeadgod preparing
to be resurrected with the
embalming fluid of new coffee

DEAD ENDS in paperback

20 Saturday May 2023

Posted by amandamblake in Poetry

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Tags

dark poetry collection, dead dying undead, dead ends, gothic horror, haunted hauntings, morbid and macabre, poems, rhyming and non-rhyming

DEAD ENDS, a dark poetry collection, is finally available as a slender paperback and e-book. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C5P9TVY8

“Wives”

17 Wednesday May 2023

Posted by amandamblake in Music, Poetry

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Tags

dracula musical, dracula's wives, jonathan harker, lyrics, poem, seduction, vampire, vampire horror

Photo by Flora Westbrook on Pexels.com

Apparently, today was the day that Jonathan Harker was seduced by Dracula’s wives in his castle. To celebrate, here’s the song I wrote for the for-fun Dracula musical that I’m working on.

I.

I was not the first,
But I’m the eldest of wives.
We did not come on our own.
We were torn from our lives.

He’s a nobleman born.
Under chaos he thrives.
I was a peasant girl lost,
and under pale moon revives.

All I can remember
Are the palest of knives,
And under his firm palm
how a peasant girl thrives.

We are Dracula’s wives,
His three women scorned.
With him we have yearned.
With him we have mourned.

Soon you will see,
As all his wives do,
How he stirs in your blood
When you’re his wife, too.

II.

I he stole from my bed
As his empire fell.
He brought me to heaven,
and saved me from hell.

All the warriors he killed,
All the fires he’d quell.
While his enemies would bleed,
Our desires would swell.

I’m more from his world
Than my sisters could tell.
I know it pains him to see
His grand home now a shell.

We are Dracula’s wives,
His three women saved.
With him we have danced.
We him we have craved.

Soon you will see,
As all his wives do,
How he conquers a will
When you’re his wife, too.

III.

He left his home once north
To find me fairer-skinned
And encircled me close
In his frigid cold wind.

Though I prayed to the saints
Under him I have sinned.
Though I searched for the light,
Beneath him it has dimmed.

I begged him to stop,
But my lord simply grinned.
So my pleas have gone quiet,
My denials I rescind.

We are Dracula’s wives,
His three women kept.
With him we have dined.
With him we have slept.

Soon you will see,
As all his wives do,
How he shackles a heart
When you’re his wife, too.

DEAD ENDS drops today

07 Sunday May 2023

Posted by amandamblake in Poetry

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Tags

dark horror poetry, dead ends, death and dying, ghostly, haunted haunting, morbid and macabre, natural and supernatural, poetry collection, rhyming and non-rhyming, true crime

Have to wait a bit longer for the paperback, but DEAD ENDS: A Dark Poetry Collection about death and dying is now available as an e-book.

Y’all, this is my first poetry collection ever, and that’s just really exciting, especially since it’s horror. It’s self-published because much of it was shared on social media, but DEAD ENDS curates and polishes the pieces to a fire-opal shine.

Amazon: https://amazon.com/dp/B0C4K334LN

Universal link (as they become available): https://books2read.com/u/3R5NQp

To the River

27 Thursday Apr 2023

Posted by amandamblake in Music, Poetry

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Tags

climate change, eco poetry, environmentalism, freshwater, lyrics, poem, spiritual revival song, threats to water supply, water

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

come on down to the river
the current runs red and the algae blooms sweet
come on down to the river
nothing more refreshing in the sweltering heat

come on down to the fresh mountain spring
just a trickle left but the last one clean
come on down to the fresh mountain spring
the clearest damn water that you’ve ever seen

come on down to the old deep well
a drought’s piercing through the dry cracked fields
come on down to the old deep well
the trumpets all sound and the scroll’s unsealed

come on down to the dark gutter drain
the bodies sink low and the corpse fluids rise
come on down to the dark gutter drain
where waste-streaked gods swallow all of our lies

come on down to the river
for an old-time spiritual revival song
come on down to the river
the end times are coming and it won’t be long

Dead Ends – poetry of the morbid and macabre

02 Thursday Mar 2023

Posted by amandamblake in Poetry

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Tags

dead ends, death and dying, macabre, morbid, Poetry, self-publishing

I can’t even be coy about the cover reveal, because I’m kind of excited (nervous, but excited) that I’m putting out this little morbid poetry collection in April.

Most of the poems consist of flash pieces and reconstructed lyrics shared through social media the last few years that are already considered published and therefore unlikely to be republished. I include a few new pieces, too, though.

New Normal

28 Saturday Jan 2023

Posted by amandamblake in A Few Thoughts, Poetry

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Tags

normal, poem

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

We need to let go
of this idea of normal
as something we’ve lost.
There is no normal.
It’s true monthly, yearly,
five years, a decade,
but easier to see if
you look back twenty years,
then another twenty years
then another twenty.
There is no normal.
There is your childhood,
and then there is now.
Sometimes, normal just changes
faster than usual
with a cruel snap
like whiplash,
but the disaster
is just as normal
as the calm before.
We always live in
unprecedented times.

“An Empyrean Con”

16 Wednesday Nov 2022

Posted by amandamblake in Poetry

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Tags

bloodless, empyrean con, horror, poem, Poetry, published, sliced up press

I shared this on Twitter but kept forgetting to put it here. My first paid poem, “An Empyrean Con,” is featured in BLOODLESS from Sliced Up Press, a collection of blood-free horror.

the sea is boiling today

17 Sunday Jul 2022

Posted by amandamblake in Poetry

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Tags

climate change, eco poetry, environmentalism, poem, Poetry, social justice

The sea is boiling today
But that’s okay
We can clear the burning black
From the smoldering bay

The sea is boiling today
But that’s okay
Dead fish are swimming
Belly up to play

The sea is boiling today
But that’s okay
The coral’s gone white
The seaweed’s gone gray

The sea is boiling today
But that’s okay
It’ll only last an hour
Or at most a day

The sea is boiling today
But that’s okay
No need to point fingers
We can afford to delay

The sea is boiling today
But that’s okay
Sure it looks bad here
But not as bad as they

The sea is boiling today
But that’s okay
We promise it gets better
No need not to stay

The sea is boiling today
But that’s okay
We’ll keep our thoughts pure
On our knees to pray

The sea is boiling today
But that’s okay
By the time it’s all gone
We’ll all be away

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