Rhymes with Camera — Honoring abundance
While hibernating and hopescrolling. (So much hopescrolling.)
🍿🎬 BREAKING: Join me TONIGHT at 7:15pm for the West Sound Film Festival Experimental Block screening of “Look Up” at the historic Roxy Theater in downtown Bremerton, WA!
MORE INFO
Honoring Abundance
Fullness is the best way I can describe the way I’ve felt since mid-June. So very full. Brimming to the top, overflowing. All in service to the launch of my new dark speculative collection, Cul de Sac Stories.
Don't think for a minute that all this writing and publishing business is easy, because I'm exhausted, seeking dormancy… even when the words flow and the vibes are positive.
And then real life interrupts…
Being a writer promoting a new book in the summer of 2024, I can’t not mention the noisy ubiquity that stands in the way of my personal dreams: current events.
Even while being so far offline that I didn’t watch TV for 10 days and barely had time for social media, I couldn’t—still can’t—avoid the tectonic shift of political plates that happened in July.
As a result, a nonstop firehose of histrionics has now become the backbone of every social media platform I belong to.
Talk about fullness! A creative person trying to find the audience for their work in online channels can no longer expect to compete with all that noise.
Writing life tip: Choose the water where you wish to wade
So I have to pivot my book promotion strategies because socials aren’t cutting it. Fine. I’m tasked with reassessing why I write and publish in the first place (an excellent practice, something I try to do quarterly every year).
As I do, I find myself wading in this little tributary of success. And I kinda like it here.
Listen, we all get to decide for ourselves what success looks like (in our writing lives or even just in our lives, period).
For me, success as an author isn’t tied to commercial goals, but personal ones. And right now, I’m wading in that calm and sparkling pool adjacent to the rushing canyon of water that is book marketing.
And there it is, again. That feeling. Of fullness.
It can be difficult to remember how good things are going when you’re negotiating the brisk rapids of book marketing. Taking deep breaths in the shallow pool tells me I’m alive and not drowning in the river.
It’s Olympics season: Don’t overlook the wins!
I thank Jennifer Brozek for inspiring me to keep a “win” journal. With it, I record at least one accomplishment from every single day.
I do this to remind myself how hard I work at being the writer I have always been, and that the fruits of the labor exist.
[Yesterday’s was hard, not gonna lie: I discovered I’d become victim yet again to a recent data breach, and spent the day putting up even more cyber shields in self-defense… so the chief win was “got out of bed at a normal hour.”]
Let me share what this fullness I’m feeling now as a writer—this win “bank”—has looked like over these last six weeks:
I’ve survived three writing conferences (Chuckanut Writers, Cascade Writers, Port Townsend Writers) in four weeks’ time. That’s a lot of learning, peopling, traveling, reading, networking. The wellspring is full to overflowing with fresh inspiration for storymaking: it’s the outcome of hanging out with creative people. Every day, post-launch, something emerges.
I’m still basking in a well-attended book launch at my second home in Port Townsend (the PTWC) where my beloved writing family received and celebrated me with open arms.
I received news of another film festival screening my experimental poetry video, “Look Up.” Hey, I was over the moon with one set of laurels! This is now my fourth win!
I came home to a garden full of vegetables and a yard full of flowers and pollinators (more on this in a minute). No, it’s not a writing life “win” but a personal win. I could convincingly write a column, “The Negligent Gardener,” to a wide and appreciative audience!
I discovered, with amazement, that I’ve still had the capacity to write new work through all of this: a new essay for the Horror Inherent series (forthcoming, for the Seattle chapter, Horror Writers of America); three short stories from my magical realism workshop at Centrum led by Jenn Givhan; a new poem already out there in circulation (“Radio Flyer”), and a new short story for Beneath the Rain Shadows, “Leave No Trace.”
I’m fielding so many sudden pings from the external world (see below: “A writer’s external validation should not be everything, but it is definitely something”). I’ve come to realize how, after all these years, I’m actually now seen as the writer I’ve always been. Like the snake caught in the sacred act of eating its tail—ouroboros—it’s a full-circle win.
I discovered hopescrolling (the opposite of doomscrolling) in social media, and I love it. It’s a practice I can get behind! With so much change on the horizon during this election season, I’m trying to be more measured about my social media usage. Recently, I adjusted settings to keep out the doom and elevate the hope. It seems to be working! Resetting my algorithms for good vibes is definitely a win.
The garden as a creative metaphor
The best way to describe this feeling of abundance may not have anything to do with rivers and drowning or gold medals in self-coaching, but with the experience I have every July when I come home from PTWC.
Even before I unpack, I check my yard and garden. It’s almost always in need of a deep watering and some picking, and this is the time of the season when the bugs emerge.
This year, like every other, I found a wild, unruly, and fertile space, with so many things blooming and fruiting, so much lushness, that I am reminded why I did all that work back in January, February and March when the ground was hard, cold, and wet.
Not everything makes it through July, but I’m okay with that because what does endure my lack of attention is profoundly alive and gorgeous, especially the lilies, the crocosmia, the zinnias… the zucchini, the herbs, the alliums.
Plus there are tomatoes on the vine, peppers poking out of their flower caps, fresh white roses, and explosions of lavender tended by entire fleets of bumblebees.
It’s such a great reminder… that while we may be spending our time in the above-ground with other people, chasing dreams, doing intellectual and creative work, we are also growing roots, stems, leaves, and blossoms without even trying.
It’s a Field of Dreams moment: “If you build it, they will come.” Every. Single. Time.
So my vases are full again, and my pantry’s in restock mode—shredded zucchini, steamed broccoli, bagged kale for the freezer, curing onions, and green beans/cauliflower/snow peas waiting for their dinnertime marching orders.
Some years the plenty is so plentiful that I have to pack some of it off to the local food bank (where it is so happily received by folks who understand the specialized goldmine that a home vegetable garden can be).
Yes, I’m tired and in pain. My body and brain do not process back-to-back social activities and performance stress well, thanks to chronic illness. The need for hibernating—between moments of hopescrolling?—is compelling.
With so much abundance at home, following
weeks of social and creative abundance, it’s overwhelming.
So I sleep. I take my time in the morning. I cancel appointments.
I allow myself to recover under the weight of riches
so heavy it might split me apart if I’m not careful.
Sorry about the mixed metaphors, but I’m tired
I feel a bit “saturated” by what I still need to do with the things I am growing: the creative gardens of stories, poems, essays, films, and marketing efforts… as well as the living gardens of flowers, herbs, and vegetables.
And I’m yet a bit intimidated by the mostly uncharted tributaries—some choppy, some shallow—that define the world of book promotion.
But I’m satisfied and, in spite of the weariness it leaves me to tend, I feel successful. This is the life I have made for myself (with the help of so many accidental mentors!).
How lucky am I to have it? Very. Thank you to all who have contributed to this cycle of abundance. It’s a glorious feeling.
Now it’s time for me to put my hands in dirt again (or my feet into the current) and start the cycle all over again. This is the way of the creative. By doing this, I honor my abundance… by perpetuating it.
A writer’s external validation should not be everything, but it is definitely something
I wrote this on the evening after the afterparty following the formal launch of my book, Cul de Sac Stories, at the PTWC. Below, I paraphrase a few choice things.
TIL: I'M A WRITER. (WAIT... WHAT?)
I have been writing forever. Heck, I’ve even called myself a writer since the age of 4 when I realized I was one. It was so easy accepting this atelier then... kids quickly choose, without fear of judgment, what they want to be. Astronaut. Firefighter. President.
Writer.
...
In the last 24 hours, the following things have happened:
⚪ I saw my brand-new book out “in the wild.” (This is what writers call seeing their book on a bookstore bookshelf somewhere.)
⚪ I got my first book review (5 stars!) for Cul de Sac Stories on Amazon.
⚪ I found out some of the people I truly idolize in my own writing life are actually going to come to my book launch party on Thursday.
⚪ I sold a book to the grocery store checkout clerk and sealed a visit to her book group for later this summer/fall.
⚪ I discovered a full-page feature on me and my relationship to Centrum in my registration packet.
⚪ Someone went out of their way to tell me (to my face, without a prompt from me) that they get a bazillion newsletters and blogs and Substacks, but mine is one of the only few that she actually reads every single time.
⚪ Someone else told me (again, without prompting) that they read my other book (Intention Tremor) and they’re planning to write a review because, not only did they like the book, but it spoke to them as the family member of someone who died from multiple sclerosis. They shared that the book is a functional roadmap for how to live with chronic illness. (Dang, but this is precisely what I had hoped to accomplish!)
You can tell yourself you’re a writer all you want, and it’s GOOD to do this simple thing, it’s good to take ownership over your purpose, without waiting for others to validate. DO IT. DO IT NOW. You need nobody else to legitimize this.
But when others respond to you, as a Writer, by reading your writing, buying it, selling it, celebrating it, studying it… That’s a different kind of identity made manifest, the one that says “We see you, and your words matter.”
...
To feel seen and validated as a writer is nothing short of a fucking miracle.
Read the full post here. Also, I’ve posted a collage of images below from that very special event. Thank you to the powers that be at Centrum for helping to make it a grand success.
Finally, here’s a poem I wrote for the occasion (click here or on the photo). “Radio Flyer.” This was a spontaneous composition, but also the trend of trend all week… writers reading baby work out loud to give it voice.
Content warning: POLITICS 🤪
[Original photo (not colorized) by Elizabeth Thorpe]
New book, new tattoo
This tree of life with a spiral in its trunk is my gift to myself for all the hard work that’s gone into writing, publishing, and promoting Cul de Sac Stories. Artist: Ana Dueñas, “Fernewt,” at Stinging Nettle Studio in Kingston, WA.
May I ask a favor?
These days, social media is, by itself, of little help for those trying to get their books into readers’ hands, owing mostly to the highly charged political landscape we have all found ourselves in.
The best way I can find my readers is through hand-selling (face to face with potential readers; I love it, but it has its limits) and by word of mouth from readers like you.
If you have read my books (Cul de Sac Stories and/or Intention Tremor), I urge you to help promote them through any of the following channels you’re most comfortable with (see options in graphic below).
If you do so, please send me a link! I appreciate the feedback, the thumbs up, the encouragement, and the boost your review will give my books for anyone thinking about buying them or ordering them for the local library.
Thank you!
Aug 1: Beneath the Rain Shadow podcast, episode 8, Tamara on the hot seat [link]
Aug 2: “Look Up” Screening, West Sound Film Fest, Bremerton WA [link]
Aug 4: Kingston Public Market appearance, Author Event Network [link]
Aug 21: Kitsap County Fair appearance, Author Event Network [link]
Aug 22-25: “Look Up” Screening, Freedom Festival International, Columbia SC [link]
Aug 25: Book launch (Better Living Through Alchemy) for Evan J. Peterson, 6pm at the Rendezvous in Belltown (Seattle) [link]
Aug 31: (maybe) Blackberry Festival, Bremerton WA [link]
Sep 1: Beneath the Rain Shadow podcast, episode 9, Clay on the hot seat [link]
Sep 17: Launch of Lurking (preorder now!) [link]
Check out my detailed calendar
“You have such a sunny disposition… why are your stories so dark?”
[Answer: Ask Me Anything for August]
LINK LOVE
Conference link love
Chuckanut Writers Conference [link]
Cascade Writers Workshop [link]
Port Townsend Writers Conference [link]
Horror Inherent series, Horror Writers Association (Seattle Chapter)—August 2024: “Writing Horror During Horrifying Times” [link]
Beneath the Rain Shadows podcast
Guest post
July 6, 2024: “Tell Me” guest blog post, “In Which a Dream Finally Sticks Its Landing,” with Jennifer Brozek [link]
MCR Media
July 31 2024: “Poetry film “Look Up” makes it into two more film festivals!”
Book Review: Cul de Sac Stories [link]
Find me in Social media [link]
July 31, 2024—“My brain is a gas hog. So is yours.” [link]
PNW GALLERY
“I AM OFFICIALLY A LAUNCHED AUTHOR”—Tamara Kaye Sellman (published variously in Facebook, Threads, Mastodon, LinkedIn, Instagram, BlueSky…)
I cannot express just how seen I feel as an author launching this book before such a supportive community of writers.
Top Left to Right: “Girl with a Red Wagon” poem is born (read about it here) (thanks to Elizabeth Thorpe for the wagon); the campus night at Fort Worden in Port Townsend, WA; red wagon becomes a prop holding several Raggedy Ann dolls, caution tape, police lights, and raffle prizes (thanks to Jackie Boutros for the wagon styling)
Middle Left to Right: Pre-reading stage at the South Gallery on the Fort Worden campus; pre-reading chill sesh at Margaritaville; table scarf to decorate the book-signing section
Bottom Left to Right: My people! So many peers, classmates, instructors, and authors from the PTWC family, plus Elizabeth Earle and Clay Vermulm from off campus; authors Elizabeth Thorpe, Charisse Flynn, and Jonathan Evison at the afterparty; post-conference party pyre at Camp Beth with (not shown) Eric Greenwell, Jim Churchill-Dicks, Nathaniel Dunaway, Charisse Flynn, Megan Robinson, and Elizabeth Thorpe
GARDEN TO TABLE
Mini Zucchini Bundt Breads
This is a tried-and-true recipe that uses up a lot of zucchini at once and doesn’t require that you press out and drain the liquid like some recipes ask for.
Also, when I’ve had a surplus of zucchini (I mean, who doesn’t?), I basically shred it all up in my KitchenAid stand mixer using the shredding blade, portion it into 2- and 4-cup portions in freezer bags, then tag them and freeze them flat. That way I can have instant zucchini for baking or other uses (such as fritters, soups, stir fry, and more).
This recipe calls for chocolate chips and chopped walnuts, but these goodies are optional.
I decided to use my silicone mini Bundt forms to bake these (four forms of four mini Bundts each). You won’t need to prepare these pans in any way.
If you don’t have these, consider that the capacity of each form (four mini Bundts) is approximately equal to one 9×5 loaf pan, so the entire recipe would require four 9×5 loaf pans. That’s the beauty of the recipe; you can make a lot at once (and use up a lot of zucchini as a result)!
If you decide to use the loaf pans, note that if they’re metal, you’ll need to line them in parchment and adjust your baking time accordingly, as they will take about 15 minutes or longer to bake through.
Click here to access this recipe through my new dedicated Garden to Table recipe page.
SLOW SEASON?
For many, August brings doldrums… dog days.
Not for me.
I mean, I’m still going to have fun this August with hiking, gardening, camping with one of my daughters, and a bioluminescent paddle during Perseid season. But …
Lurking, which includes my short story “Lather, Rinse, Repeat” is coming (see calendar) in September, plus I’m working on Rain Shadows with Clay for a possible launch/StokerCon debut in May 2025. Trust Fall is going into production in 2025 as well; I’m looking for an artist to commission for this special publishing effort (if you know someone who’s exceptional at woodcut or linocut and editorial graphics, let me know). And I have more readings and events related to Cul de Sac Stories coming this fall.
Never a dull moment at this desk, with this brain, my creative DNA churning in my cells the moment I take some time to recuperate.
If I’m having dog days, then they’re probably of the feisty and active terrier variety! Happy Dog Days!
Tamara