I am so excited to announce that I have published my second collection of poetry and short stories. Soon We’re All Gone to Seed is a compilation of scary, strange, and dark visions.
I meant to release this book last October, but you know, time just goes by. After releasing Reaching Marrakesh two years ago, I guess this collection needed more time to marinate, and I needed to write more stories.
If you like magical realism, ghost stories, twisted dreams, and a little bit of hope, this book is for you.
In case you were wondering, I self-published this collection. It is not easy to format books for print or e-readers.
It’s available on Amazon in book and Kindle formats. Enjoy!
Thank you for reading. Samantha Lazar is a writer, poet, and teacher living in North Carolina with the loves of her life. Her first narrative poetry collection, Reaching Marrakesh, is available here. Stay inspired!
Welcome to my new newsletter, which I will send out bi-weekly. My letter will inform you of my writing projects, stories, blog posts, and poetry. You may even find something that inspires you.
Thank you so much for reading!
Science Fiction Magic?
A few years ago, my cousin and I were waiting for the subway and riffing off each other’s ideas for Black Mirror episodes. I just love the brilliance of that show, and I wondered if I could write science fiction that reads like magical realism. So I re-published a short story (or first chapter, potentially) titled “One Percent.”
One reader commented: “This reminded me of a Black Mirror episode, but with a supernatural spec––the telepathy. I also enjoyed the atmosphere. The concept is really cool! I wanted to read more!”
Maybe you’ll enjoy it too and convince me to continue writing it.
Here’s an excerpt:
“Everyone meets online these days,” Melanie said. “I know, but this seems way more complicated than using Match or OK Cupid.” Lauren sipped her coffee and laughed at Melanie. She was always trying to set her up! “Just try it- I know it seems a little scary, but it really isn’t. Actually, I have found my real matches here. I mean, you do not want to meet up with just anyone, do you?” Nodding, Lauren avoided eye contact with Melanie. “Besides, Melanie said, “You can just delete it if you don’t pass the Portent. But I know you, and I know you will get in. You are one of us.”
Exactly a year ago, I released my first poetry collection, Reaching Marrakesh. My goal is to bring my second book of poems Sky Collection to life by the end of the year. Thank you so much for your support!
Two other books are brewing:
One is a collection of dark and chilling short stories and poetry, currently untitled. The other is a chapbook of prose-poetry entitled, Don’t Tell Grandma.
Did you know you can read endless stories by myself and many other inspiring writers on Medium? Consider upgrading to a monthly subscription here.
Follow along on my writing journey and be in touch here.
That’s all for now. Thank you so much for reading and supporting my writing work. If you enjoy it, please consider sharing it with a friend or your sister.
If I wanted to end the world,
they’d give me the Nobel Prize
for perfecting genocide,
for understanding the plight
of the garden plow
and inventing the first religion
to call prayer nothing
but a poem written in excrement.
The cat’s cradle
of God’s love
can be found
in the indices
of the unholy.
but what is God?
What is love?
Time, such a beguiling bastion
of the illusive spirit,
its passage like a staircase
accepting the momentary weight
of our countless footsteps,
where we fool ourselves
into believing we matter
more than we are matter.
The ragged rim of oblivion,
welcoming as a leper’s smile,
calls us from our oubliette
to build the better bicycle
not to feel the cold
of the nuclear winter,
where the snow falls
like orange blossoms,
and the horizon yawns,
made of beautiful worms.
I hope you are all staying safe and warm where you live. Here in NC, the ground is saturated, and the cold rain continues. But muddy paws and disappointing impeachment trials aside, the beautiful words of this publication help keep me going. Thank you so much for your continued readership, and to our writers, thank you for filling our lives with your thoughts and art.
Did you know we now have an editor’s picks page? Please take a look! The featured pieces from January are:
Each of these unique pieces is worthy of your time!
My baby, who was due on Valentine’s Day, 2011, born 2/12/11, turned 10 this week, I have a lot of feelings about that. Our most recent prompt connects time passing and children growing up to parenthood and feeling needed.
On a personal note, I have intentionally slowed down my own writing this month. It has been a year since my father died, and I am feeling more introspective without wanting to produce too much. I ride my moods.
However, there are many projects in the works. Did you know, besides teaching in the classroom, I teach individualized writing lessons and coach writers of all ages? I have a new client today, and I am very excited to work with her.
I am in the process of putting together my second poetry collection. I hope to have this ready by the end of the month!
That’s all for now. Thank you for your continued support!
Last night, we tried to set up the telescope my son got for Christmas last year, but the tripod was broken, and the view from my front yard was clear to look with our eyes. It was incredible to see the Jupiter and Saturn conjunction on a relatively mild North Carolina evening. Even though I live in the city, I can still find a way to block out much of the light pollution to star and moon gaze.
Dealing with the loss of my father both closed me down and opened me up. A lot of my poetry in Sky Collection became about that experience. It was a way for me to grieve, I suppose. Growing up, I was always losing my dad. This year was just the final loss. Ambiguous grief has been difficult throughout my life. It is a sense of always waiting for the next trauma to happen.
Ambiguous grief/anxiety took on a whole new meaning this year because of COVID-19, and that anxiety is far from over. I still feel like I am waiting. Waiting to be with people I love. Waiting to go somewhere. Waiting to feel safe enough again. Waiting to get my son into more stuff again. Waiting for things to go “back to normal.” I want to stop waiting and just be. So if I had to make any new year’s resolutions, that would be it.
My ritual with the new year is not to resolve to stop doing something. Instead, I decide what no longer serves me and slowly or all at once, I let it go. Sometimes I write those things down and burn the paper. Then I decide what to keep with me for the next year. So into 2021, I will bring a new sense of healing, a wonderful writers’ community, a powerful and beautiful writing practice, strength to be a teacher in-person or remotely, stamina to wear a mask all day, everyday.
Looking back at what I accomplished this year in my writing: I wrote a total of 115 poems in my Sky Collection project and hundreds more poems and stories in my notebooks and elsewhere on Medium. I opened up my publication Sky Collection to dozens more writers. I created a writing prompts practice, which inspired many people to create a diversity of responses.
Most of all, I am proud that I published my first poetry collection, Reaching Marrakesh, which is a book I think I have always been writing about losing my dad.
So even though I am finished with last year’s Sky Collection Project, I will also take into the new year my practice of stopping and taking in the sky. It is always important to take sacred pauses — to look up at the sky and notice there is so much more to our universe. To my little patch of sky, thank you for continuing to fill me with wonder and joy.
Through the Eyes of a Poet series #8 I am excited to bring you another issue of the Through the Eyes of a Poet series; a series I hope you are enjoying. It is a true blessing to me to bring you the stories of these creative spirits. Today, I’d like to introduce you to […]