Announcing the winners of the 2016 Hillary Gravendyk Prize!

I recently judged the National Competition of the 2016 Hillary Gravendyk Prize (named after the late American poet; see my obituary for her here), counterbalancing the judge of the Regional Competition, Megan Gravendyk Estrella. As the Inlandia Institute posted recently on their Facebookpage, the winners have now been announced (I’ve included my selections in bold, although the list of finalists is a combination of lists by both judges). Congratulations to all! The two winning manuscripts (National and Regional) will be published next year. As I wrote of the winning (National) manuscript: “Traces of a Fifth Column,” the National winner of this year’s Hilary Gravendyk Prize, is a manuscript composed as of a series of dense, lively fragments across a wide canvas, each of which are more than capable of carrying the weight of the entire collection. “Traces of a Fifth Column” is a rich, meditative collage of essay-sketches that attempt to comprehend, through exploring meaning, language and being.

Thank you to all who entered. We are grateful for your words.

And thank you to our judges, rob mclennan and Megan Gravendyk Estrella, for choosing this year's books.

••••••••••

National

Winner:

Traces of a Fifth Column by Marco Maisto

First Runner Up:

Letdown by Sonia Greenfield

Second Runner Up:

In This Housing by Mary Wilson

Regional

Winner

Gods Will for Monsters by Rachelle Cruz

First Runner Up:

Eyelets Under Sun by Lauren Henley

Second Runner Up:

Wild Embrace by Tim Hatch

Finalists:

Medusa Reads La Negra’s Palm by Elizabeth Acevedo

Nostalgia for a World Where We Can Live by Monica Berlin

Maybe To Region by Monica Berlin

FIGHTING EXILE by Terry Brix

Palace of Conferences by Andrew Cantrell

Nimrod in Hell by James Capozzi

Pity the Lifeboat Poems by Colleen Carias

Us Mouth by Nikia Chaney

A Feeling For Good Water by Elizabeth Chapman

Talking to Yourself Is Fine by Sally Dawidoff

An Aperture MC Hyland

Little Yellow Father by Kiandra Jimenez

Light Into Bodies by Nancy Chen Long

Brother Bullet by Cassandra Lopez

Reaper’s Milonga by Lucian Mattison

Of All Places In This Place Of All Places by Joe Milazzo

Working With a First and Second Language by John Miller

Yesterday It Poured by Tim Perez

Lostness by Cindy Rinne

Elegy with Trench Art and Asanas and Other Poems by Jane Satterfield

Generating the Wild by Tyler Stallings

[addendum] by B.P. Sutton

Whales in the Water Tank by Micah Tasaka

Ghost Limnology by Lisken Van Pelt Dus

brightness this by Franciszca Voeltz

Hillary Gravendyk and Cynthia Arrieu-King, unlikely conditions

I never could have come back to writing because someone started a google doc with me, but because that person gave me the gift of her deep care. She showed up, morning after morning, to help me get back to myself. Our friendship was made up of all this material between us, especially since we’d never lived in the same city. So our friendship was documents—emails, texts, chat transcripts, google docs, photographs, and especially poems. Our friendship was the material of poetry, which we wrote together every day. She wrote as much as I did when I wrote, every time I wrote. And I came to understand that the hours of writing together were most important—the poems were the happy accident of a friend caring for another, at least at first. All my collaborations, I thought, they are all just records of care, of friendship, of love. The poems don’t matter.

And yet, and yet. They are everything, these poems between us. (“Only Collaborate,” Hillary Gravendyk)

I hadn’t realized that the poems that the late Hillary Gravendyk (March 1, 1979 - May 10, 2014) [see my obituary for her here] was working on with Cynthia Arrieu-King had progressed as far as they had, newly released as the collaborative poetry collection unlikely conditions (1913 Press, 2016). Around the time Gravendyk died, there was mention of a work-in-progress, but I had no idea that it was as developed as it was. With Gravendyk’s short postscript “Only Collaborate” to close the small collection, I’m curious as to Arrieu-King’s thoughts on the process of collaboration generally, and more specifically, with a poet such as Gravendyk. While I understand, on some level, wanting to allow Gravendyk to speak (in a powerful introduction that speaks to how the collaboration, and specifically, Arrieu-King’s friendship, prompted her to return to herself, as well as her own writing), this was a collaboration, after all, of equals, equally; why would Arrieu-King not have, possibly, included an introduction? The most she does is at the end, in the notes, that write: “These poems were written beginning in March 2008 until May of 2014—sometimes while we were sitting in her home in San Francisco or Los Angeles, but mostly while she was on the West Coast and I was on the East Coast.”

For those unaware, Gravendyk was the author of the poetry collection Harm (Omnidawn, 2011) [see my review of such here; and some of the post-Harm poems I was fortunate enough to post via Dusie], and Arrieu-King is the author of a number of collections, including People are Tiny in Paintings of China (Octopus, 2010) and Manifest (Switchback Books, 2013), with a note in her author biography that she “is working with Omnidawn Press and its editor Rusty Morrison on Hillary’s final poems, to be released in 2017.”

Practice

A perfect match is a cold predicament.

Imagine a stack of Necco wafers, a flock of

gray birds, schoolchildren. Arrows arrayed

against each other might look

the same, but would we call it perfect?

One perfects when one approaches

the original purpose. Our definitions say nothing

of what, after all, we reach.

We perfect the art of things and one

is our own arrogance. But another is

failure, and a third is

approximation, and every art

perfected is a kind of love or at least a kind of wonder.

So then let’s line up every heart in the room:

a row of wounded animals.

Let’s see who flies and who creeps.

The short, sharp lyrics that make up unlikely conditions are all collaborations between the two, but for three exceptions each, listed at the back of the collection. The poems are thoughtful, introspective and intimate, as though we are witnessing everything said between two individuals close enough that their individual patter and patterns become indistinguishable. I’m quite fond of collaboration [for example: here, here and here], having seen a number of projects emerge over the years, and this might be one of the most coherent I’ve seen, managing a solid, consistant voice and tone throughout, making me more curious about the work of Arrieu-King, a poet whose work I’m otherwise unfamiliar with.

Announcing the 2016 Hillary Gravendyk Prize (co-judged by rob mclennan,

Announcing the 2016 Hillary Gravendyk Prize, Sponsored by the Inlandia Institute

One National and one Regional Winner will each be awarded $1000 and book publication, and additional books may be chosen for publication by the editors.

The Hillary Gravendyk Prize is an open poetry book competition for all [American resident] writers regardless of the number of previously published poetry collections. The manuscript page limit is 48 - 100 pages, and the press invites all styles and forms of poetry. Only electronic submissions accepted via Inlandia’s Submittable portal. Entries must be received online by April 30, 2016 at midnight Pacific Standard Time. Reading fee is $20. The winners will be announced late Summer/Fall 2016, for publication in 2017.

HILLARY GRAVENDYK (1979-2014) was a beloved poet living and teaching in Southern California’s “Inland Empire” region. She wrote the acclaimed poetry book, HARM from Omnidawn Publishing (2012) and the poetry collection The Naturalist (Anchiote Press, 2008). A native of Washington State, she was an admired Assistant Professor of English at Pomona College in Claremont, CA. Her poetry has appeared widely in journals such as American Letters & Commentary, The Bellingham Review, The Colorado Review, The Eleventh Muse, Fourteen Hills, MARY, 1913: A Journal of Forms, Octopus Magazine, Tarpaulin Sky and Sugar House Review. She was awarded a 2015 Pushcart Prize for her poem "Your Ghost," which appeared in the Pushcart Prize Anthology. She leaves behind many devoted colleagues, friends, family and beautiful poems. Hillary Gravendyk passed away on May 10, 2014 after a long illness. This contest has been established in her memory.

Contest judges: rob mclennan and Megan Gravendyk-Estrella

Born in Ottawa, Canada’s glorious capital city, rob mclennan [photo credit: Stephen Brockwell] currently lives in Ottawa, where he has now lived for more than half his life. The author of nearly thirty trade books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction, he won the John Newlove Poetry Award in 2010, the Council for the Arts in Ottawa Mid-Career Award in 2014, and was longlisted for the CBC Poetry Prize in 2012. His most recent titles include notes and dispatches: essays (Insomniac press, 2014), The Uncertainty Principle: stories,(Chaudiere Books, 2014) and the poetry collection If suppose we are a fragment (BuschekBooks, 2014). An editor and publisher, he runs above/ground press, Chaudiere Books, The Garneau Review, seventeen seconds: a journal of poetry and poetics, Touch the Donkey and the Ottawa poetry pdf annual ottawater. In 2015, he became Interviews Editor over at Queen Mob’s Teahouse. He spent the 2007-8 academic year in Edmonton as writer-in-residence at the University of Alberta, and regularly posts reviews, essays, interviews and other notices at robmclennan.blogspot.com

Megan Gravendyk-Estrella is a Registered Psychiatric Nurse and Poet. Megan is a two time winner of the Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Poetry Prize and the author of the Seattle Young Playwrights prize winning short play "Good Evening Mrs.Gerfella". Megan lives in the Los Angeles area with her husband, Jose and his daughter, Sofia. Hillary and Megan wrote together their entire lives and most recently attended the Napa Valley Writers Workshop. Prior to Hillary's passing, the sister's work-shopped poetry and short fiction together, including many poems in Hillary's book, Harm.

The details:
One contest, two prizes, each award is granted publication and $1000: All entrants will be considered for the National Prize, and entrants who currently reside in Inland Southern California, the “Inland Empire,” will also be considered for the Regional Prize (Riverside and San Bernardino Counties, and any non-coastal Southern California area, from Death Valley in the northernmost region to Anza-Borrego Desert State Park in the southernmost). If you believe you reside in an area that falls within the I.E., please select the “Yes, I reside in the I.E.” checkbox on the Submittable form, or if you’re not sure, please contact the Inlandia Institute at Inlandia@InlandiaInstitute.org.) In addition, the editors may select one or more additional books for publication.

Eligibility: Any resident of the United States of America or its territories may enter the contest, with the exception of colleagues, students, and close friends or family of the judge(s). Additionally, anyone who currently serves or has served in the past two years on any Inlandia Institute committee, its Advisory Council, its Board of Directors, or is a close family member of one of the above, is not eligible.

Manuscript Requirements: Please submit 48-100 pages of poetry through our Submittable portal as a .doc, .docx, or .pdf. ***Submissions will be read blind, so do not include any contact information on the manuscript itself.*** Do not include a cover page, and do not attach an acknowledgements page. No revisions to the manuscript are allowed while the contest is running; however, if your manuscript is selected for publication, revisions may be submitted at that time. Please use a standard 11 or 12 point font. If there is a significant amount of non-standard formatting, please submit as a PDF to ensure formatting remains intact. Individual poems may have been published in journals, anthologies, chapbooks, etc., but the collection as a whole must be unpublished.

Submission fee: $20 per manuscript. Multiple submissions accepted but a separate entry fee is required for each manuscript submitted. Simultaneous submissions also accepted. If accepted elsewhere, please formally withdraw your manuscript from consideration via the Submittable portal.

Each winner will receive $1000, 20 copies of their book, and a standard book contract.

The manuscripts will be screened by MFA students from University of California Riverside and California State University San Bernardino.

The Inlandia Institute is a literary nonprofit and publishing house based in Inland Southern California dedicated to celebrating the region in word, image, and sound. In 2014, Vital Signs, a collection of poetry and photographs by Juan Delgado and Thomas McGovern, received an American Book Award from the Before Columbus Foundation. In 2015, the Inaugural Hillary Gravendyk Prizes were awarded to Kenji Liu for Map of an Onion (National) and Angela Penaredondo (Regional).

Anne Cecelia Holmes, The Jitters

ODE

None of this concerns you but

sometimes it’s better to pretend closeness

than live in fear of rejection. Things I know:

car sickness, the Mall of America, all-night

murder dreams. Childhood was a joke.

Slinging imaginary rifles over my shoulder,

falling out of trees for negative attention.

Now I talk to you like I have nothing

to lose, no grip whatsoever. I sneak into

the neighbor’s basement just to be the criminal.

I call you in the middle of the night to say

I’m not a ghost yet. It’s funny because

in Chicago I have a real brother but what

a boring story. Things I don’t know:

portion control, easing depression,

the optimal gesture.

Nothing I say will make you love me

and there’s real honor in that.

The author of two poetry chapbooks, Massachusetts poet Anne Cecelia Holmes’ first trade collection is The Jitters (Grand Rapids MI: Horse Less Press, 2015). Built as a collection of compact lyrics, the poems in The Jitters are fearless, vulnerable and razor-sharp. These poems revel in even the smallest miracles, attempt to comprehend the darkness, and take no shit from anyone. As she writes to open the poem “WORLD’S TINEST EARTHQUAKE,” “I’d like to say what’s been said / and say it better. Break // accountability exactly open. / When faced with an ultimatum // I choose the most destructive force, / haul everyone onto the lawn just // to get tough. Please trust me.” These are poems born of a quick, dry wit, composed as a series of observations, critiques and direct statements that take no prisoners. “When nothing changes I finally love myself,” she writes, in the poem “MEMORY BRICKS.”

SOME RELICS

All of this hurts the facial expression.

I’m sick of watching you fall over

the television like you’re the one

inside it, and more than ever

I feel like a tugboat in that scene.

Don’t blame me for your

bad cartography. I can’t be

an acrobat because

my heart isn’t ripe.

You said this trampoline

makes you dream of chairs

but to me the backyard

is a butcher shop.

Bring me a bag of rocks

and I’ll carpet you in them.

I’m going to be

an admiral in all this.

I’ve been increasingly aware over the past few years of a particular strain of American poetry: poets, predominantly female poets, composing very striking lyric poems that combine savage wit, subversion, distraction and use of the straight phrase, blending lightness against dark subject matter. If I were to attempt any kind of list of examples, it would include Matthea Harvey, Natalie Lyalin, Dorothea Lasky, Amy Lawless, Sommer Browning, Emily Pettit, Bianca Stone, Hailey Higdon, Emily Kendal Frey, Anne Boyer and the late Hillary Gravendyk, and now, Anne Cecilia Holmes. What connects the writers on this list is the way they each compose tight lyric bursts that slightly unsettle, managing to utilize both light and dark humour, and push to shake at the core of expectation, discomfort and the otherwise-unspoken. There is something about how each of these authors, including Holmes, have embraced elements of the confessional mode through a compact lyric that can be used to voice flashes of anger, annoyance, frustrations, loneliness and violence, and even conversations on evil, as Holmes writes in the final poem in the collection:

POEM FOR WHAT I’M NOT ALLOWED

Ode to the murderer I imagine

in every band of trees. To

my blood cells, to well-ordered systems,

to my head absolutely thick

with disease. Ode to the dress I slept in

and wore the next day, to the cilantro

I planted in all the wrong weather.

Ode to the fucking cosmos. Ode to my face

against your face, to poems that want to

like us but don’t. Ode to being

the bloodless one, the neurotic one,

the one ignoring your spiritual journey.

To your clothes in my basement

covered in ink. To I wore this when

we first met, to I want to hurt you like this

and then like this. Ode to quitting my job

to stay excited, to exposing myself

to my neighbors, to embedding so many

rocks in my chest. Ode to Tulsa.

Ode to the 900-foot Jesus, to keeping

my hands in my pockets most of the time.

To my brothers and sisters, to all my

enemies, to imagining every way

to die in every possible scenario.

Ode to crying when I can’t find my shoes,

to feeling like god will punish me for

sins I don’t believe in. Ode to taking

pictures in front of strangers’ houses.

Ode to my jacket covered in yellow.

Ode to how I wish you were built

out of wood panels. Ode to staring

out the window in the worst

of the house. Ode to your age,

to my age, to how I react improperly

when reenacting your fate. Ode to

so few phenomenons. Ode to

absolving myself of everything.

To singing what I’m doing, to arguing

what counts as “artifact” and “alive.”

Ode to my wandering pacemaker.

Ode to my big fat heart. Ode to

pretending I’ve never been where

I used to live. Ode to hoping you’re

a goner. Ode to grieving nothing

each time a villain is born.