Howdy Dear Readers,
I keep forgetting I have a Substack! I am recommitting to bringing you all the updates from my creative life.
The biggest news is pictured above. I am proud of my new book, Don’t Tell Your Grandma, released to the wild in August. I revised my short collection, Soon We’re All Gone to Seed, to include many more poems and short stories.
Content warning: This book contains images of trauma: sexual harassment, domestic violence, drugs, suicide (and some healing and hope). Here is the synopsis printed on the back of the book:
In this collection of poetry and prose, Samantha Rae Lazar weaves a story of relationships, sexualization, and trauma. Through tales of magical realism, dark humor, emotional imagery, and social commentary, Lazar shows healing by way of digging deep into memories, dreams, and one’s own power.
Don’t Tell Your Grandma is available in paperback and on Kindle from many online booksellers, such as Barnes & Noble and Amazon. Because an indie-author company produces it, it does not yet have a commercial publisher. I will need to do a lot of work to promote it and get it in some local bookstores. But the book is registered at an international book fair this fall! So I hope it will get some exposure.
As a collection of deeply personal pieces, I feel elated and vulnerable. Mostly, I am thrilled to see a vision for a project completed! It is a great feeling!
Here’s what’s really on my mind right now:
Peace for This Beautiful Terrible World
Freeverse poetry for the Middle East and our damaged earth
what do we do while our families suffer
waiting to know if they’ll locate their sons
war — as it seeps through the filters we depend on
but it’s someone else’s dream disrupted by fire
the beds that were made for the nieces who
never will sleep in those sheets — the music
carries their souls beyond the seas to weep
for the bodies and unthinkable things done
the stolen, the bargain— over thousands of bones
how hatred and violence — the cycle of sickness
the sip of some water
can I send up a stopper
some love, love, how can we send the sacred
some love
how can we heal from the world’s oldest hatred
why can’t we feed all the people who starve
why can’t we ever repair
all that’s broken
peace to what’s evil
peace for what’s true
peace for us all
in this beautiful terrible world
I ache for all who suffer through this madness, evil, and terrorism. If only words could heal.