The Silver Flute: Montgomery's Alpine Path

"I, Emily Byrd Starr, do solemnly vow this day that I will climb the Alpine Path and write my name on the scroll of fame." -- L.M. Montgomery

Journal VII: 12.21.22

"If only I could support myself with my writing. If my words were enough to make a living, if I could speak them into a jar and they would condense to little flecks of gold that float gently to the bottom. I could live off-grid and scribble all day. I could make such progress if life's distractions were out of my way. Why do I need a 401K? Health insurance? Car insurance? I will live off the land and write my poems and be poor. I will dress myself in secondhand scarves and handmade dresses and be old and young and beautiful and ugly all at once."

I had submitted several poems to several places that fall and heard nothing from any of them-- until the next calendar year.

2.20.2023

"January 28th, a little after 5, the news came. I had given up jumping each time I heard my email notification and was resigned to the fact that my poetry had been forgotten or rejected. But it came-- a little buzz to my phone as I sat in the bunkhouse living room alone watching 'Outlander.'

'Dear A.K.,

Congratulations! We are excited to publish 'West Virginia' and 'Denial' in the 2023 issue of Backbone Mountain Review. Before February 11, please provide us with a short bio (50 words or less, written in third person) by reply email. Congratulations again! We look forward to receiving your bio.'

I read it over and over, the tears that had been reluctant to come for the past week rushing to see the text for themselves. Oh, how I needed this good news! Such honey to replace my bitter gall! The alpine Path-- it was in sight. Little Rebecca would be ecstatic.

To be published by a small journal is a small matter in the eyes of most, but to me it was the matter of utmost importance for weeks. The shit that I've been scribbling and hiding away-- there is some merit in it. Someone else thinks so. This validation is something I haven't tasted since Dr. Burberry submitted one of my essays for a university award."

An Instagram account called Bible Belt Queers accepted a last-minute piece I submitted for a zine called "Queer in the Time of COVID." I never got a physical copy because so many other things were happening in my life at the same time-- the new ranger job, the summer job at Acadia, the grad school paperwork, planning my solo trip to Maine. I forgot to reply to the email requesting addresses until it was too late.

A third publication through Wingless Dreamer, a website that creates eBooks from the poetry of new writers, accepted one of mine. I didn't make it into the top three best poems, though, so I didn't qualify for a free copy. That's fine. At least someone read and liked it enough to put it in Crystalline Whispers.