Introducing Bloodstream: Memory, Roots and Place

A book cover depicting a botanical image of a passion flower.

It feels like the past couple of months have been a blur, which explains why I’ve been absent here. So much to say, but I’ve been busy enough “doing the things” that I  haven’t been writing about them as much. That changes now: the cover of my new book, Bloodstream, forthcoming from Mercer University Press on Feb. 3, 2026, has now been finalized, so I’m free to share it!

This image you see is a botanical study of a passion flower. I’m told that after reading the final manuscript, the design team that works with MUP came up with the concept, which nods to an image that appears in my poem, “Consistency,” first published by Frontier Poetry in 2019. Since the poems in this new collection span different geographies, from Florida to North Carolina to Alaska and beyond, I knew it would be difficult to land on an image that somehow captured an essence of the whole. I like that the passion flower is intricate and layered, common in southern geographies and with one particularly showy variety, Passiflora incarnata — known locally as maypop — being very common in North Florida, where I’ve seen it often. (A little side story: several years ago, our  now-almost-12-year-old black Lab, Finn, consumed the maypop fruit one day from a vine. This plant is toxic to pets, and when we realized what he’d done, with our vet’s permission, we gave him hydrogen peroxide, in turn resulting in a forced, shall we say, upchuck. Fortunately, he expelled the offending plant, and all was well.) I hadn’t thought of this until now, but dogs figure prominently in Bloodstream‘s poems, as part of family stories and identity — yet another reason why the passion flower is a more than perfect image to anchor the cover of this collection.

The poems in Bloodstream “map arterial pathways of memory, pulse with Southern roots and distant vistas, resurrect ancestors, and examine ecosystems as mirrors of identity, navigating fluid boundaries between human experience and the living world,” to excerpt from its official description. I’m so excited to soon be able to share it with all of you in the coming months! The publication date will be early next year, likely in the next three or four months. I owe special thanks to the three incredible poets who were kind enough to read my manuscript and contributed generous blurbs for the book: Lisa Zimmerman, Sally Rosen Kindred, and Sean Sexton. I approached them all soon after my book was accepted by MUP for publication, and was so happy when all agreed to help. These are poets whose work I deeply admire, whose friendship and support means everything to me.

Since my last blog post, it feels like so much has happened. On Oct. 2, I gave a joint reading at The Lynx bookstore here in Gainesville from my current book, The Grief Committee Minutes, along with Eric Doise, who read from his late wife, Saara Myrene Raappana’s debut collection, Chamber After Chamber. It was especially meaningful to share this time with Eric and to have an opportunity to learn more about Saara and her work. Both of us were able to share the stories behind the books, and we had a good audience of maybe 20 people who took time to show up for us that evening.

Two days later, I flew to Milwaukee to spend three nights with my first cousin, Janet, and my 95-year-old aunt Mary, my dad’s only sister and my only aunt. We had a wonderful time in Cedarburg, where Janet lives, exploring and walking and just catching up in general. I got to see Lake Michigan for the first time! Barely was I home, still high on that visit, when our dog, Finn, started yelping and holding up his right front leg. I won’t reinvent this entire saga, but it felt like the whole month of October was spent visiting the UF College of Veterinary Medicine’s small animal hospital and agonizing over what might be wrong. Early on, with input from various specialists, we were told he likely had referred nerve pain from a nerve in his neck. The doctors said that based on his pain levels and what they saw on physical exam, he most likely had cancer or disc disease. We prepared for the worst. Instead, we got a miracle: An MRI on Oct. 27 ruled out both of those very bad possibilities, and instead identified an inflamed nerve on the right side of his neck. He’d been on a few pain months and resting since his first episode on Oct. 7 and a subsequent relapse. In the two weeks we waited for the MRI, he showed dramatic improvement and had no more yelping episodes.

Our follow-up visit on Nov. 19 confirmed what we were seeing: the neurologists said they could see no lameness or evidence of pain. They said we could gradually increase his exercise and allow him back on “his chair,” which he had been restricted from as no jumping was allowed during his recovery. It’s hard to overstate the importance of what might seem to some of you like a minor detail, but our big leather recliner has been Finn’s go-to spot since he was a puppy. Naturally, he jumped back on it as soon as we moved the pillows blocking his access. His normal good attitude  has returned — he’s even playing with his toys again, which he hadn’t for some time. While we haven’t taken him back up to his former walking levels, we’re gradually increasing his exercise and he always wants to go longer.  To say we are deeply grateful to still have him still with us is a huge understatement. We are truly savoring every moment.

As I write this, it’s the day after Thanksgiving. Finn’s recovery is foremost on my gratitude list. Right up there, though, are other blessings: the wonderful reception The Grief Committee Minutes has received; the  trajectory of Bloodstream; the few-but-meaningful publications and readings I’ve managed to do over the past year, including a wonderful opportunity to represent SWWIM at AWP in March, and the good health of family and friends. I am also grateful that my first six months of retirement have proved to be full and exciting. Being able to pivot from fulltime work at UF to my creative pursuits and family responsibilities has allowed me to hit the refresh button mentally and emotionally. That has been a very good thing.

Finally, I’m grateful to all of you who read these posts and have supported me in all the ways. My life is bigger and better because of you.

UPDATE: Bloodstream is now available for pre-order! Order directly via Mercer University Press, via Amazon, or from your favorite bookseller.