Saturday, October 23, 2021

"Digging" in Evergreen: Grim Tales and Verses from the Gloomy Northwest

Good news! Sharma Shields and Maya Jewell Zeller have edited a new anthology of regional work entitled Evergreen: Grim Tales & Verses from the Gloomy Northwest. The collection comes from 56 contributors and moves through the beautiful and curious space created by artist Keeley Honeywell. 

Among the pages you'll stumble across my story Digging, which first appeared in Lake Effect literary journal and then in my first collection of stories, The Floating Order (Two Ravens Press, 2009). 

"In the surreal ‘Digging’ a young brother and sister try to come to terms with their homicidal mother and search for ways out of their imminent dispatch" (John Kenny in his larger review of the collection)

The stories in Erin Pringle's The Floating Order focus on images and ideas frequently linked in Western literature--fairy tales and reality, madness and imagination, death and children. Stories such as "All I Have Left" and "Digging," with the repetition of the title phrase in the former and, in both, systematic, but vivid and mythic plots, echo the way confessional poets Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath dealt with what then seemed disparate connections between the madness inherent in fairy tales and childhood experience. (Rene LeBlanc, in her review of The Floating Order entitled "Veneration of madness" from Texas Books in Review, 2009)

Order Evergreen for you and your friend who appreciates interesting gifts, visit Scablands Books 

P.S. Should you go looking for The Floating Order, you'll need to find it in used bookstores or from used online sellers, as the publisher went out of business several years ago. So, it's especially nice to have a story rescued from its bound grave and asked to breathe again.


Tuesday, October 19, 2021

Wake to Words and Brew Some Coffee (October 17, 2021)

Every Sunday morning, I read good poems by other people while we all drink coffee. Here's the session for October 17, 2021.


Poems read:

  • Love Town by Anne Carson
  • Alone by Jack Gilbert
  • Stay Home by Wendell Berry
  • 36-40 from Bluets by Maggie Nelson
  • 52 and 57 by Sappho, translated by Anne Carson
  • Poem with a Girl Almost Fifteen by C.D. Wright
  • That Purple Were the Color of Our Skin by Maya Jewell Zeller
  • The Summer Day by Mary Oliver


Saturday, October 16, 2021

Story News: Chair, $75 OBO in Issue Six of Moss

My story Chair, $75 OBO, is now available to read in the literary journal MossMoss. is made in the Pacific Northwest and features many regional writers, so not only is my story in good company, but I also know much of the company, which is an unusual and pleasing experience. Moss. is one of the few journals that pays its contributors, so encourage that dying pastime by subscribing:

Chair, $75 OBO will be in my next story collection. This seems like a good time for a general update on that collection. It's finished and awaiting a home so that it can find its way to yours. 


Tuesday, October 12, 2021

Wake to Words and Brew Some Coffee (October 10, 2021)

Thanks for joining me for another session of poetry. We're somehow in October. I'm glad you've found yourself here, too.

Poems read:
  • 15. from XIII. A Small Porch in the Woods by Wendell Berry 
  • Walking in Paris by Anne Sexton
  • B.F.F. by Hieu Minh Nguyen
  • Grief Runs Untamed by Agnieszka Tworek

Sunday, October 3, 2021

Wake to Words and Brew Some Coffee (October 3, 2021)

Last Sunday, we didn't have poetry because I was under the weather, or the weather was on top of me. Either way, I'm better, and so here's another Sunday morning of coffee and words. Thanks for checking back in and all the positive feedback. Have a lovely week!

Wake to Words and Brew Some Coffee (October 3, 2021)

Poems read:

  • Song of Change by Daniel Halpern
  • Relative Pitch by Jack Gilbert
  • 1953 by Jack Gilbert
  • Outside my Window by Polly Buckingham 
  • Poem with a Dead Tree by C.D. Wright
  • My Imminent Demise Makes the Headlines the Same Day I Notice How Even Your Front Teeth Are by Momtaza Mehri
  • Sonnet: Hamnavoe Market by George Mackay Brown
  • Raggedy Man by James Whitcomb Riley 

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Sunday, September 19, 2021

Wake to Words and Brew Some Coffee (September 19, 2021)


Wake to Words and Brew Some Coffee (9/19/21)

Poems read: 
  • Poem with No Up or Down by C.D. Wright
  • Fall by Wendell Berry
  • Ghazal for the Chicago Two-Step by Porsha Olayiwola
  • Out of Body’s Your Matter of Opinion by Ben Cartwright 
  • Plastic: A Personal History by Elizabeth Bradfield

🍂 Watch Wake to Words every Sunday morning on Facebook at

Sunday, September 12, 2021

Wake to Words and Brew Some Coffee (September 12, 2021)


Poems read:

  • September by Tracy K. Smith
  • The Record by Wendell Berry
  • We Lived Happily During the War by Ilya Kaminsky
  • Beachcomber by George Mackay Brown
  • Roads by George Mackay Brown
  • Hello, This Letter Was Never Finished by beyza ozer
  • If They Come for Us by Fatima Ashgar
  • Some Boys Aren’t Born They Bubble by Kaveh Akbar
  • Rimrock by Kaveh Akbar

Sunday, September 5, 2021

Wake to Words and Brew Some Coffee (9/5/21)

Wake to Words and Brew Some Coffee (9/5/21)

Poems Read:

  • Toast to My Dead Parents by Robert Cording
  • Centrifugal Force by Brooke Matson
  • Collapsing Poem by Kim Addonizio
  • Sister by Susan Bright
  • The Adirondack Chair by Molly Saty

Friday, September 3, 2021

A Room of Her Own: Erin's Writing Residency at The Hive, Spokane Public Library

Photo by Spokane Public Library

Good news! I've been awarded a writing residency (my first ever) at The Hive, a new Spokane Public Library building and non-traditional library space. 

The Hive houses six artist studios, free meeting rooms, a kitchen, and offices for the Spokane Schools Virtual Learning staff. It's a beautiful, modern building and so new it's hard to be inside it without deep feelings of elation (I mean, old buildings can bring elation, too, but specifically, the elation that newness and possibility bring).

The artist studios are built specifically for artists--from exhaust systems, automatic garage doors for easy moving, utility sinks, to soundproof walls. 

I'm in the first cohort of artists, artists I'm damn lucky to be counted among--artists who range from weavers to painters to a Salish canoe builder. As I have a small footprint in terms of space, one of the artists, a photographer, is sharing his space with me. 


For the next six months, I have a dedicated space for my writing. Since the pandemic began, I've not been able to write in the coffee shop or diner at all--or even attempted it during that "lull" before The Delta Variant began. Of course, pre-pandemic, I spent 99.7% of writing time in diners or coffee shops--from The Coffee Grounds in Terre Haute, Indiana to The Coffee Pot in San Marcos, Texas, to Jacob's Java on Monroe in Spokane.  

Now I have a clear space that does not overlap with my family's space (and sounds and wishes and my own feelings of guilt for writing instead of vacuuming). Back in June when I learned I'd received a residence, I became more tuned-in on my next book, which I have been working on for several years now (notes, scenes, starting it again this way or that way or this way or that). But once I knew I could and had to work on it and in a specific place, whatever dam released. And it's been wonderful to feel as though I'm back in my old mind. Or to recognize the wallpaper in that mind's waiting room where ideas patiently sit until the words are called up.

As it took over fifteen years to write my last novel--albeit interspersed with two story collections, a cross-country move, a child, and work--this time I'd like to knock the next novel out in less time. What seemed perfect about this residency is that it's in the city where I live. Most residencies require out-of-state travel, a cleared calendar wherein one can afford not to work (and somehow pay the mortgage), and can leave their family behind (so, assumedly not for artists/writers with families or young children, as those are typically not welcome). To do this requires either a job that has sabbatical, an ability to juggle multiple aspects of life, and/or older children and a support system that lives nearby. I mean, it is awesome that residencies exist, and keep them running, folks; I'm just noting that there are barriers that prevent many artists/writers/musicians from participating. 

So, all of this is to say that today I moved into my new creative space. I'll keep you abreast of the experience. As part of the residency, I'll be giving a few presentations (virtual and perhaps in-person), so stay tuned.

Sunday, August 29, 2021

Wake to Words and Brew Some Coffee (August 29, 2021)


Poems read:

  • Wild Geese by Wendell Berry
  • September by Polly Buckingham
  • Coffee by Daniel Halpern
  • Diehards by Ray McManus
  • Haunted Importantly by Jack Gilbert  
  • Going There by Jack Gilbert
  • The Tramp by George Mackay Brown
  • The Old Women by George Mackay Brown
  • The Thought of Something Else by Wendell Berry

To explore more Sunday sessions of Wake to Words and Brew Some Coffee, see