Beautiful piece Caroline and congratulations on your wonderful publishing news. Your discussion on the tension between vulnerability and privacy definitely resonates. Thank you for sharing 🦋
"I admire writers who promote their work in ways that feel authentic to them, rather than doing whatever the next social media strategist or online coach is telling them to do." As a person allergic to online gurus, this resonates! When I was a creative in an ad agency someone said to me "never forget that you're the one who comes up with the magic'. I love hearing about the messy truth, the doubts and rejections behind the successes. A tonic. Thanks!
I can't believe you've achieved so much from that tiny place above your washing machine! That's so impressive. I could relate so much to what you're saying and it's reassuring to hear.
I would very much appreciate drawing from your cover letter if that's OK?. I sometimes submit for poetry pamphlet competitions and never know what to write. Thank you in advance.
Tina - thank you, that's so kind of you. I'm glad this piece resonated. Wishing you all the best with your poetry pamphlet submissions - it's a great way to be published!
Yes of course, happy to share the query letter I used. I have deleted the comps (quite obviously, you would use your own) and hope it's of use:
Dear Editor, (find out and use correct name if you can)
I am writing to ask if you would be interested in publishing River, Moss, Moon, a 30,000-word hybrid work of fifty-five poems and four nature writing essays. The collection is a reflective, lyrical meditation on maternal love, hope, belonging and how we might respond to crisis without succumbing to despair.
The manuscript is structured around a series of four seasonal walks over the course of a year, exploring themes of motherhood, perimenopause, family estrangement, climate grief and raising a neurodivergent child in a time of immense personal and planetary change. The poems weave together the domestic and the numinous, and are intended as a soul-soothing, connective thread between the core essays.
River, Moss, Moon sits at the intersection of ecopoetics, nature writing and narrative non-fiction. Deeply rooted in place, the work pays close attention to the landscape, weather, edge places and ecological diversity of the South Downs, drawing on folklore, mythology, pilgrimage, ritual and walking as ways of navigating uncertainty, building resilience and staying open to wonder. The collection speaks to a contemporary longing for kinship with the more-than-human world, and offers a grounded yet hopeful reflection on how we might live through fractious, disconnected times.
River, Moss, Moon may resonate with the audiences of works such as XXXXX, as well as the accessible, reader-facing poetry of diverse poetic influences such as XXXXX.
To tell you a bit about me, I am the author of The Honey in the Bones: Poems to Rewild the Soul (Golden Dragonfly Press, 2022). My work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Awards and I was awarded the Janavi Held Endowed Poetry and Art Grant in 2023. My debut collection has been one of the press’s best-selling titles every year since publication. Several of the poems have reached a substantial online readership, with one forthcoming as a children’s book.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I have attached the full manuscript as per your submission guidelines, and would be delighted to provide you with any more information on request.
Dear Caroline, huge congratulations on your publishing deals, I'm so excited for you and to read more of your work! As always, there is SO MUCH I resonate with in your words, feelings and thought process. Thank you for opening up this space and sharing with us, it already makes me feel less alone. ❤️
Oh my goodness, what wonderful news, Caroline! I can’t wait to read your new book.
As I read this while sitting on my screen porch this morning, a lovely rain was falling after a long dry spell and the birds were celebrating dawn. I’ll take that as an omen. I deeply appreciate your open vulnerability and desire to generously share your process and what you have learned about pressing on and navigating the mysteries of publishing. Thank you.
Thank you, Michelle! I so appreciate you being here after all these years, and love that you read this piece in the rain 🩷
Here is the query letter:
Dear Editor, (find out and use correct name if you can)
I am writing to ask if you would be interested in publishing River, Moss, Moon, a 30,000-word hybrid work of fifty-five poems and four nature writing essays. The collection is a reflective, lyrical meditation on maternal love, hope, belonging and how we might respond to crisis without succumbing to despair.
The manuscript is structured around a series of four seasonal walks over the course of a year, exploring themes of motherhood, perimenopause, family estrangement, climate grief and raising a neurodivergent child in a time of immense personal and planetary change. The poems weave together the domestic and the numinous, and are intended as a soul-soothing, connective thread between the core essays.
River, Moss, Moon sits at the intersection of ecopoetics, nature writing and narrative non-fiction. Deeply rooted in place, the work pays close attention to the landscape, weather, edge places and ecological diversity of the South Downs, drawing on folklore, mythology, pilgrimage, ritual and walking as ways of navigating uncertainty, building resilience and staying open to wonder. The collection speaks to a contemporary longing for kinship with the more-than-human world, and offers a grounded yet hopeful reflection on how we might live through fractious, disconnected times.
River, Moss, Moon may resonate with the audiences of works such as XXXXX, as well as the accessible, reader-facing poetry of diverse poetic influences such as XXXXX.
To tell you a bit about me, I am the author of The Honey in the Bones: Poems to Rewild the Soul (Golden Dragonfly Press, 2022). My work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Awards and I was awarded the Janavi Held Endowed Poetry and Art Grant in 2023. My debut collection has been one of the press’s best-selling titles every year since publication. Several of the poems have reached a substantial online readership, with one forthcoming as a children’s book.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I have attached the full manuscript as per your submission guidelines, and would be delighted to provide you with any more information on request.
loved this: "There is a difference between sharing your soul through your art — which is a brave, generous and achingly human thing to do — and mining your trauma to create content. It is your job alone as an artist to discern that difference." Really resonant piece of writing.
What a beautiful, tender, rain‑soaked offering, Caroline! Your courage and devotion shine through every line shared ... and your honesty about process and vulnerability feels like a loving, generous gift. Thanks so much for revealing this poetic glimpse of your inner journeying. Wishing you the best of everything for your next collection. I'll save a wee place for it on my shelves ... so it can sleep and dream next to "The Honey in the Bones". 💖🙏
This was a beautiful, exciting read. Inspiring for me as a writer starting out too! I love your washing machine desk so much! Best of luck with the book, it sounds gorgeous.
I loved this - the distinction you draw — between sharing your soul and mining your trauma to create content — is the one I think about most, but I'd gently disagree that it's yours alone to discern. It's discernible on the page too, which means a reader can feel it even when the writer can't. The test isn't how much you reveal; it's whether the work has done something with the wound or just handed it over. Disclosure that's been metabolised leaves the reader a door to walk through — the feeling becomes theirs to use. Trauma offered raw asks the reader to carry it instead, and they can feel the weight being transferred. So the margins matter more than they look: writing on the washing machine, around the children, in stolen quiet, is exactly the slow processing that turns the one into the other. Good enough usually means the work has finished doing that — not that it stopped short, but that it stopped extracting. Thanks for being prepared to share your vulnerability too. I'm new on here, and your piece is exactly why I think I'll stay.
The instinct to keep it quiet until it had its own shape is incredibly important. Some things grow in the dark and would rot if exposed to too much light too early. The washing machine, the kettle, the kitchen clutter — that's just the soil. Privacy was the season. Congratulations on both deals. Nice piece.
Congratulations, Caroline! I can relate to a lot of what you’ve shared here as I’m on the self-publishing journey. I have a mktg background but marketing a book is so different!
Beautiful piece Caroline and congratulations on your wonderful publishing news. Your discussion on the tension between vulnerability and privacy definitely resonates. Thank you for sharing 🦋
Beautiful piece Caroline and congratulations on your wonderful publishing news. Your discussion on the tension between vulnerability and privacy definitely resonates. Thank you for sharing 🦋
Thank you so much, Ruth. I love how you describe the “tension between vulnerability and privacy”. 🦋
Congratulations Caroline, It's so exciting to hear of your success. I'm absolutely here for the releasing of your books into the world!
Thank you so so much! I'm so glad to have you along for the ride 🩵🙏
"I admire writers who promote their work in ways that feel authentic to them, rather than doing whatever the next social media strategist or online coach is telling them to do." As a person allergic to online gurus, this resonates! When I was a creative in an ad agency someone said to me "never forget that you're the one who comes up with the magic'. I love hearing about the messy truth, the doubts and rejections behind the successes. A tonic. Thanks!
Thanks so much, Nicholas. I appreciate it! 🩵
I can't believe you've achieved so much from that tiny place above your washing machine! That's so impressive. I could relate so much to what you're saying and it's reassuring to hear.
I would very much appreciate drawing from your cover letter if that's OK?. I sometimes submit for poetry pamphlet competitions and never know what to write. Thank you in advance.
Tina - thank you, that's so kind of you. I'm glad this piece resonated. Wishing you all the best with your poetry pamphlet submissions - it's a great way to be published!
Yes of course, happy to share the query letter I used. I have deleted the comps (quite obviously, you would use your own) and hope it's of use:
Dear Editor, (find out and use correct name if you can)
I am writing to ask if you would be interested in publishing River, Moss, Moon, a 30,000-word hybrid work of fifty-five poems and four nature writing essays. The collection is a reflective, lyrical meditation on maternal love, hope, belonging and how we might respond to crisis without succumbing to despair.
The manuscript is structured around a series of four seasonal walks over the course of a year, exploring themes of motherhood, perimenopause, family estrangement, climate grief and raising a neurodivergent child in a time of immense personal and planetary change. The poems weave together the domestic and the numinous, and are intended as a soul-soothing, connective thread between the core essays.
River, Moss, Moon sits at the intersection of ecopoetics, nature writing and narrative non-fiction. Deeply rooted in place, the work pays close attention to the landscape, weather, edge places and ecological diversity of the South Downs, drawing on folklore, mythology, pilgrimage, ritual and walking as ways of navigating uncertainty, building resilience and staying open to wonder. The collection speaks to a contemporary longing for kinship with the more-than-human world, and offers a grounded yet hopeful reflection on how we might live through fractious, disconnected times.
River, Moss, Moon may resonate with the audiences of works such as XXXXX, as well as the accessible, reader-facing poetry of diverse poetic influences such as XXXXX.
To tell you a bit about me, I am the author of The Honey in the Bones: Poems to Rewild the Soul (Golden Dragonfly Press, 2022). My work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Awards and I was awarded the Janavi Held Endowed Poetry and Art Grant in 2023. My debut collection has been one of the press’s best-selling titles every year since publication. Several of the poems have reached a substantial online readership, with one forthcoming as a children’s book.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I have attached the full manuscript as per your submission guidelines, and would be delighted to provide you with any more information on request.
Warm regards,
Caroline
Congratulations again on your publishing success. I cannot wait to hold your words in my hands. 🩵
Thank you for your support, Georg. I'm super grateful, and glad to connect with you here 🩵
Dear Caroline, huge congratulations on your publishing deals, I'm so excited for you and to read more of your work! As always, there is SO MUCH I resonate with in your words, feelings and thought process. Thank you for opening up this space and sharing with us, it already makes me feel less alone. ❤️
Thank you so much Sarah. I'm so happy to have you here and am rooting for all your creative endeavours too! 🧡
Oh my goodness, what wonderful news, Caroline! I can’t wait to read your new book.
As I read this while sitting on my screen porch this morning, a lovely rain was falling after a long dry spell and the birds were celebrating dawn. I’ll take that as an omen. I deeply appreciate your open vulnerability and desire to generously share your process and what you have learned about pressing on and navigating the mysteries of publishing. Thank you.
And: I would love to see your query letter! 🌻
Thank you, Michelle! I so appreciate you being here after all these years, and love that you read this piece in the rain 🩷
Here is the query letter:
Dear Editor, (find out and use correct name if you can)
I am writing to ask if you would be interested in publishing River, Moss, Moon, a 30,000-word hybrid work of fifty-five poems and four nature writing essays. The collection is a reflective, lyrical meditation on maternal love, hope, belonging and how we might respond to crisis without succumbing to despair.
The manuscript is structured around a series of four seasonal walks over the course of a year, exploring themes of motherhood, perimenopause, family estrangement, climate grief and raising a neurodivergent child in a time of immense personal and planetary change. The poems weave together the domestic and the numinous, and are intended as a soul-soothing, connective thread between the core essays.
River, Moss, Moon sits at the intersection of ecopoetics, nature writing and narrative non-fiction. Deeply rooted in place, the work pays close attention to the landscape, weather, edge places and ecological diversity of the South Downs, drawing on folklore, mythology, pilgrimage, ritual and walking as ways of navigating uncertainty, building resilience and staying open to wonder. The collection speaks to a contemporary longing for kinship with the more-than-human world, and offers a grounded yet hopeful reflection on how we might live through fractious, disconnected times.
River, Moss, Moon may resonate with the audiences of works such as XXXXX, as well as the accessible, reader-facing poetry of diverse poetic influences such as XXXXX.
To tell you a bit about me, I am the author of The Honey in the Bones: Poems to Rewild the Soul (Golden Dragonfly Press, 2022). My work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Awards and I was awarded the Janavi Held Endowed Poetry and Art Grant in 2023. My debut collection has been one of the press’s best-selling titles every year since publication. Several of the poems have reached a substantial online readership, with one forthcoming as a children’s book.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I have attached the full manuscript as per your submission guidelines, and would be delighted to provide you with any more information on request.
Warm regards,
Caroline
loved this: "There is a difference between sharing your soul through your art — which is a brave, generous and achingly human thing to do — and mining your trauma to create content. It is your job alone as an artist to discern that difference." Really resonant piece of writing.
Thanks so much, Jan. Very kind of you to take a moment to read and comment 🩵
What a beautiful, tender, rain‑soaked offering, Caroline! Your courage and devotion shine through every line shared ... and your honesty about process and vulnerability feels like a loving, generous gift. Thanks so much for revealing this poetic glimpse of your inner journeying. Wishing you the best of everything for your next collection. I'll save a wee place for it on my shelves ... so it can sleep and dream next to "The Honey in the Bones". 💖🙏
So grateful to have readers like you on board, Deborah. Thanks for all you do to keep the ecosystem thriving here 🩵🙏
That’s the best desk photo ever! Thanks so much for sharing all this wisdom
This was a beautiful, exciting read. Inspiring for me as a writer starting out too! I love your washing machine desk so much! Best of luck with the book, it sounds gorgeous.
I loved this - the distinction you draw — between sharing your soul and mining your trauma to create content — is the one I think about most, but I'd gently disagree that it's yours alone to discern. It's discernible on the page too, which means a reader can feel it even when the writer can't. The test isn't how much you reveal; it's whether the work has done something with the wound or just handed it over. Disclosure that's been metabolised leaves the reader a door to walk through — the feeling becomes theirs to use. Trauma offered raw asks the reader to carry it instead, and they can feel the weight being transferred. So the margins matter more than they look: writing on the washing machine, around the children, in stolen quiet, is exactly the slow processing that turns the one into the other. Good enough usually means the work has finished doing that — not that it stopped short, but that it stopped extracting. Thanks for being prepared to share your vulnerability too. I'm new on here, and your piece is exactly why I think I'll stay.
The instinct to keep it quiet until it had its own shape is incredibly important. Some things grow in the dark and would rot if exposed to too much light too early. The washing machine, the kettle, the kitchen clutter — that's just the soil. Privacy was the season. Congratulations on both deals. Nice piece.
Congratulations, Caroline! I can relate to a lot of what you’ve shared here as I’m on the self-publishing journey. I have a mktg background but marketing a book is so different!
Beautiful piece Caroline and congratulations on your wonderful publishing news. Your discussion on the tension between vulnerability and privacy definitely resonates. Thank you for sharing 🦋