Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Drunk Dialing the Divine Tour



I would like to welcome Amber back as we finish up our interview with her. I am pleased to have the opportunity to further showcase her wonderful talent to the digital world!

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Author Info 



Amber Koneval is a twenty-year old Colorado native, graduating from Regis University in December of 2013. She has been published in over twenty journals with more than sixty poems. Drunk Dialing the Divine is her first collection. She loves snakes, line-dancing, and going to the theatre on Saturday nights. You can contact her at  her main website or at her blog. She loves comments and e-mails!

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Interview: Part 2


5. What do you hope that people will come away with after reading your poetry?

That poetry is still enjoyable. That there are many ways to express oneself. With my more religious poetry, I hope to convey that Catholic-Christian poetry is still very much alive and well and that it doesn't have to rhyme to be sacred.

6. What are you currently working on now?

Hoo-boy. What am I not working on? Under this name, my birth-name, I write strictly poetry. I write one or two poems at minimum every week, so I'm constantly working to get those typed up and refined. And then I'm submitting to literary journals for publication several times a month as well (thank you, Duotrope!). This summer, I'm going to be heading a couple of workshops and readings, including a revival camp for youth teaching them how to use the gifts God gives them in order to have a fulfilling life (using my life as a writer as an example).
Though, I also have one semester of college left, so I'll be putting off on a lot of new stuff in order to finish my undergraduate thesis.


7. What are your up-coming projects?

I have one manuscript, Mti Wangu, being shopped around for publication at the moment- it's a larger collection of poems that I wrote when I was doing a missions trip in Kakamega, Kenya back in 2010 (which, fun fact, is also a collection of the last poems I ever thought I was going to write- I contracted typhoid while there and thought I was going to die in a foreign country!). I'm also perpetually figuring out how to compile my next big collection of religious poetry, which I've tentatively titled 'The Shattered Deity', which would pick up from where 'Drunk Dialing' and 'Mti Wangu' picked off- 'Drunk Dialing' being the anger I needed to sort through to be open to faith, 'Mti Wangu' being the experiences I needed to have to open my eyes to the larger order of the world, and 'Shattered Deity' being the culmination and continuation of trying to live out those lessons thus far.
I've also been trying to work in a collection of my more secular poetry, for those who aren't Christian/Catholic, which I've called 'Synonym Girl' after a poem a friend wrote about me. That one might take a lot longer, since the topic is so unbelievably broad.

8. Where can we purchase your poetry and/or read samples of it online?

The best place to purchase the collection would be from my publisher's website, eLectio publishing. You can get it as either a paperback or an ebook, which is pretty neat. If you're in/around Colorado or would like to support independent bookstores, the Brainfood Bookstore in Longmont always carries a couple of paperback copies. And, as last resort, you can always look up the title on Barnes & Noble or Amazon.

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Poetry Showcase

SHAMALA
“If you want to talk about people
then you need to talk about
trees”

eighteen trees line a fence
he said that they’ve grown
up to there
so tall the children crane their necks
to see where the leaves reach down
with branches thick and keen
for the touch of their clever fingers
resting on the bark
as if to say
I feel you
and I remember
water my tree from a well dug deep
in an old, dry pasture
by foreign tongues and skin as sensitive
as milk
and remember me
in the shade of the tree that knows
the feel of my cupped hands
down deep in its soil
its roots twisted thick
round my veins
and think of me
flowing


CAN'T STOP CRYING
Last night we sat on the back porch
you strummed your guitar so loud
that the neighbors flipped their lights on
Who knew light could be so threatening?

Last night, you strummed your guitar
you called it finger-picking, really
though it's all noise to me
and you told me that you felt
alone

How many nights must I sit
with goosebumps
sipping on cider and listening
to the strums of a guitar
How many times must I watch
grown men cry
How many men will tell me that
they're alone
Can't you feel them
sitting where you sit, strumming guitars and
laughing
up at a starless sky?
I do not understand this
loneliness
you feel.

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