My First Poem (& other news)

My first ever published poem and a review, Veasna So Scholars, an interview I conducted, a forthcoming short story, original art, Flat Ink's latest, and more!

A very belated Nevruz kutlu olsun to all of you, and Eid Mubarak. I turned 19 this month! I also have lots of forthcoming and recent works to share, hence this newsletter.

Awards

→ Longlisted for the Anthony Veasna So Scholars in Fiction Distinction!

Could not be happier about this :) Thank you to the Adroit Journal, and go check out the winners here!

Forthcoming

→ Steppe Classics, the Hyacinth Review, 2023

The poem was written when I was 16, and was the first poem I was ever confident in writing. It’s fitting, then, that it’ll be my first ever published poem. Since 2021, it’s racked up a whopping 14 rejections, ~64% of which were personal or tiered. Off and on, I took breaks from submitting it, so it’s taken a while to get off the ground.

An (abbreviated) review from an instructor of mine:

Dilara, this poem is absolutely stunning. Thank you for sharing the ideas and inspirations you were exploring when writing this: I'm deeply interested in the ways that colonization and persecution have destroyed languages and cultures and this poem feels like one step towards defeating those forces.

—Nafkote Tamirat, author of The Parking Lot Attendant

The poem is an exploration as to how a large amount of Indigenous Central Asian oral history and literature became lost to many as we were separated from our roots through colonialism and genocide. My mother’s side of the family is the main focus of the piece, as her grandparents were both refugees fleeing ethnic persecution, and my mother’s family is directly connected to the Central Asian steppes— our homeland. The Steppe Classics, in this case, are all the names, histories, and stories my family had to leave behind.

The Hyacinth Review was kind enough to schedule the poem for publication on May 28th, just a few days before May 31st— the Day of Remembrance for victims of the Kazakh Genocide. I’ll be posting as soon as it’s out!

→ Smaller, Still, YoungArts Anthology 2023

As one of the YoungArts winners, I’ll be included in their anthology this year :) They’ll be publishing an earlier draft of Smaller, Still, a piece about repression and the imitation of normal life that I wrote during the Adroit Mentorship program. I feel like I’ve improved it greatly since submitting to YoungArts, so hopefully I’ll be able to republish it as well and share more of the story.

Newly Out

→ My Interview with Roxie Dobrer on her Debut Album, Flat Ink, 2023

Roxie Dobrer on Writing Her Debut Album, Excerpt:

In the opening track ‘I Try’, you really set the tone for the album in such an interesting way. Specifically, the questions you ask seem to encapsulate both the song itself and the rest of the album, as you explore connection and somewhat quiet devotion throughout. I guess what I’m asking is, if ‘I Try’ is the question, is the rest of the album the answer? Is there a point in which you feel this question resolves itself?

I Try was really interesting to write because it started as a stream of consciousness journal entry basically. It was a bunch of frustrated questions that I had written down in my Notes app somewhere during first semester of senior year, when everyone was about five months into being buried in college apps. My friends and I have a joke that someday I’ll release I Try (8 Min Version), because originally it was much longer. I put it at the front of the album because I felt like, as the opening track of my debut project, it was the most complete introduction to myself, the best ice breaker of- here are all of the things I think about, the things I’m insecure about, and how upset I am about all of that. I don’t necessarily think that the questions are answered, but I find that Heartfelt feels like a continuation of a lot of the same thought processes. I Try asks the question: Am I all alone? In Heartfelt, I know that I’m not, but still ask: Would you still love me if I changed? Where I Try asks: Is anyone listening? Heartfelt responds by understanding that people are but no longer wanting it: My life is full of volatility and you don’t want to be part of it. I Try: What is the difference between feeling lonely and feeling unwell? Heartfelt: I am homesick, I am unpredictable, I am lonely, and I don’t want to talk about it. 

Flat Ink News

→ Details on Issue #2 are coming soon!

Please keep an eye out on our accounts, and keep us in mind for submissions. We’re prepping right now to ensure the best possible issue, and I could not be more excited with the theme we have for all of you!

Flat Ink’s Recently Published

I got to both edit and create art for these wonderful pieces! I built up a bit of a portfolio on my website, in case you’re interested.

Can You Hear Me Now? by Irene Cooper

When I picture my father in this era, I imagine him buying a newspaper or window shopping watchbands alongside Frank O'Hara, unknown to each other, both humming to the vibration of the subway under their feet, whistling to the same lunchtime tune of promise and prosperity in the honking taxis and clanging steel girders.

The Phonecall by Penelope Staehle

god calls me on the payphone, tells me there aren’t enough magnolia trees in the garden. asks me a question. i spend my whole life answering it.

On Alchemy by Any Medium Necessary by nat raum

Nan Goldin is familiar with photographing the things you want to keep. An influence of mine in many ways, she once talked about how one must only look at what a person photographs to see what they fear losing.

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More coming soon! Looking to put out article/poetry recommendations & finally my newsletter about Louise Glück out when I can, and a post with some great articles I want to recommend. See you then :)