I’m a Paper Carrying ‘Artist’


Just a short post to announce that it finally happened.  After 2 years of no sleep (5 if you count the Bachelor’s), I can say that I have obtained my MFA in Creative Writing. The journey was hard but well worth it. I met a group of wildly talented individuals and fantastic people in the industry. 

Now that I can wave the paper around and claim vicotry, I need to find something to do with it. Never fear, the wheels are turning in my tiny head. Not sure where they will stop, but I know that I never will.


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Gregory Pardlo / Nicole Sealey

One of my recent articles for the CNR news website is up.  

You will also find the same article posted in our literary magazine The Canopy Review.

Here are some of the photos I took of these two fantastic poets. Read the article to learn how the evening went.

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MFA and Beyond

The Langston Hughes House

Me at the Langston Hughes House with his portrait and his typewriter.

The long pauses in my blog has to stop.  When you are MFAing there really is little time for much else.  Reading and doing and writing Thesis.  But that is all coming to an end. I graduate on May 22nd (my thesis is due early May). 

It has been an interesting educational ride.  Five years of almost non-stop schooling. It is coming to an end.  I’m both happy and sad. But I am excited. I’m moving on to bigger and better things in my writing future.  Don’t know what they are yet, but I know they are there.

Today I will be volunteering at The Langston Hughes House. Their program the I, Too Arts Collective has events, and it looks like this summer is packed with them.  Today author Willie Perdomo will be stopping by to give a talk.

On April 13th, poets Gregory Pardlo and Nicole Sealy will be reading their poetry. I know, I sound like a fan girl. Just so excited to have the opportunity to be around such talented people on a regular basis.

…and yes, the entries will become more frequent again.



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Poetry Reading 12/15/17 @ La Maison d’Art, NYC

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MFA Update

The semester is half over and I’m still getting my bearings. It takes me several months to get acclimated, and at this rate, I will be graduating by the time it happens.

I would have never imagined I would meet so many talented writers and wonderful people.

new-york-times-the-lost-art-of-writingThis semester we are talking to a lot of industry professionals.  So far we’ve spoken to author Nicole Kear who is delightful.  We spoke with other fantastic people and will speak with a few more before the end of the semester.

Many people who go to school for writing get “the look”. The one that says, “You need to go to school to write?” Of course these are thepeople who don’t write well.  No I don’t NEED to do anything, and not everyone has to go to school to write well. There are self-taught writers who are exceptional.  But those people usually don’t ask that question.

Next semester is the thesis semester. This is where I work on my exit piece. This is not the traditional thesis people think of when they hear the word. This is a tight and polished 75 page manuscript. Sounds easy?  It’s not.

Writing is hard work. My brain actually hurts now more than it did in undergrad. But I will get to May, graduate and miss it all. So no complaints. 


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Book Review #3

Book 1:  When My Brother Was an Aztec by Natalie Diaz
Book 2: Night Sky with Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong

I put these two together because they are both poetry books. They have nothing in common except I would have not read them on my own. These are school reads. I am not upset that I read them however.


I met Natalie Diaz this month at a poetry reading in Harlem. As a person, she was down to earth and very cool. As a poet she is amazing. This collection is inspired by her late brother as well as her family life growing up.  Raw, emotional and sometimes shocking verse on every page.

After Diaz’s book, I read Night Sky with Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong. He has won several awards for his poetry and it isn’t hard to see why. Born in Ho Chi Mihn City in Vietnam, he moved to Connecticut while still a toddler. His poetry touches on war, family and love.

Between the two of these poets I have been inspired to spend more time writing poetry. An art I had abandoned several years ago.

4 / 5 stars (for both)


2017-6-26-spoonbenders-ljdoyle-010Book 3: Spoonbenders by Daryl Gregory

I don’t think I’ve ever read a book about psychics.  This one also played with a version of time travel. This famous family of psychics harbored a secret for years and of course we find out toward the end of the book. But I enjoyed the interplay and the family dynamics much more. Not to mention their interactions with the mob.

4 / 5 stars


Book 4: Now I see You: A Memoir by Nicole Kear

Another ‘forced’ read for school. I say ‘forced’ because it’s not a book I would have chosen. About a woman who is slowly losing her site to a degenerative eye disease while living in NYC and navigating life.  There is humor throughout, which helps lighten an otherwise serious book.

4 / 5 stars


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Brown Skin Blues

African-American-Woman-SilhouetteWhen the alarmed buzzed as I exited the Urban Outfitters in Soho (NYC) I was confused.  I was leaving the store in the midst of a group of people, so I thought nothing of it. But I was called over to have my bag checked.

Usually I am not bothered by this, if I buzz then there is a reason, but that reason isn’t stealing. But if it is just me at the door and it buzzes, what can I do. However, this time I was surrounded by white people and Asian people, none of who they called back.

And the guard wasn’t nice about it either. I had a Fjall Raven Kanken on, one of many I own (my daughter used to work for the retail store in Soho). This bag is also sold in Urban Outfitters. My bag wasn’t in terrible shape, so did he think I stole it, or was I eyeballed the moment I walked in?

I am a 50 year old African American woman and I walked in to the store with my daughter. She was shopping, I wasn’t, but I looked around until I got hungry so I went to eat outside. But that was delayed.

I angrily opened my bag which had my sweatshirt stuffed on top of my food and wallet.

“OK you’re fine,” the guard announces and dismisses me with a wave of his hand.

“I know I’m fine!” My voice reverberated through the store. I was mortified at the accusation that I was a thief. He jumped at my outburst.

I turned and started back out, but I turned back to the Latino guard and said, “It’s because I’m black. You didn’t single out anyone else.” I was not quiet in my assumption. He didn’t respond.

I stood outside angry, but I couldn’t let the ignorance of others ruin my day. No matter what color the guard was, he was (unfortunately) trained to stop brown skin. 


I wasn’t the only one.  A few moments later some young African-American teenagers exited the store. He must have called them back because I heard one say, “Yo, he wanted to check our bags.” They were laughing, they didn’t stop for him. Were they guilty of theft? I doubt it. They were guilty of SWB (shopping while black).

My daughter came out of the store a few moments later, she wasn’t stopped.  I told her what happened. She said, “Oh, that’s why the guy (guard) looked away when I said ‘have a nice day’.”

Did he know we were together? Or is it because she had a bag that she wasn’t singled out?

Many young people like the teenagers don’t realize that this is racism. They think it is – well I don’t know what they think it is.

A friend told me that her students say they don’t experience racism. I told her that they don’t recognize it, but they experience it.

Do they realize they are followed around the store when they shop?

I wanted to tell the guard I make more than him in a month than he does in an entire year (exaggeration), but what would that prove? Nothing. He is conditioned, and no amount of money in my pocket is going to change a mindset or my skin tone.

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