Paddling the Sweet Spot

Finishing Line Press will publish my first chapbook with presales beginning November 24, 2025! Get ready to reserve your copy for a March 2026 release.

Book Synopsis

Laura E. Garrard received a call that many of us fear. She thought she was a healthy person with an injury, and instead she harbored a rare blood cancer called multiple myeloma. In her poetry chapbook, Paddling the Sweet Spot Between Life and Death, Garrard’s lyricism and vivid narratives illuminate living in the “narrow exception of movement” during a time of acute uncertainty. Readers journey with the author and her body through grief, surrender and recovery to plant their hands in earth, swim with dolphins, and run with the salmon. Garrard’s free-spoken style and vulnerable honesty invite readers into her desperation, determination, entreaty and joy. She asks, “What is a human without honor?” Her poignant observations demonstrate how we live and die, simultaneously, and that the present moment is the sweet spot of survival. Garrard’s poetry asks us to destigmatize death and disease in a culture that reveres youth and health, so that we all may live fully. As cancer permeates our communities like never before, this collection is a gift of renewal.

Photo by Pete Will.

Garrard is a Pushcart Prize nominee and finalist in Bellevue Literary Review’s John & Eileen Allman Prize for Poetry. Her work also appears in TulipTree Review, Amethyst Review, The Madrona Project, Silver Birch, and others. She writes a cancer poetry series, Poetry That Fits, for Penn Medicine’s OncoLink.org.

Endorsements

Laura E. Garrard’s poems are courageous compass-settings for navigating a place of balance and bodily, emotional and spiritual contending. She is fighting a life threatening cancer in language both nuanced and frontal. “Living is precious / The trick is / Not wanting it too much / Not calling death closer.” I finished the book feeling greatly uplifted. Its cargo is a true teaching of how to live daily on the shifting edge of our own mortality and that of those we love.

—Tess Gallagher, author of Is, Is Not

In her chapbook poetry collection, Paddling the Sweet Spot Between Life and Death, the first line of Laura E. Garrard’s poem, “Humbled,” reads I am cleaved by lightning. Garrard navigates a world of illness, the inherent fears of death that are overcome by an instinct for survival, the gripping complexities within the process of healing. The experiences of these poems by Laura E. Garrard reveal that for every corridor of grief there are as many rooms of sustaining light, and that is very human, that’s being much alive.

—Gary Copeland Lilley, poet and author of Raven on the Moaners’ Bench and The Bushman’s Medicine Show

Kudos to Laura E. Garrard for writing honest poems that question the familiar trope of vanquishing cancer, asking: “Why fight against / Death as if it were a foe?” Instead, Garrard listens to her body with compassion, embarking on a journey to bring her life into balance and find that “sweet spot of flow called letting go.” These vivid, sensory poems take us along as she swims in the wake of spotted dolphins, sees messages in barn swallows at play, and listens to alders at the edge of the lake where she finds peace. In the end, we arrive at her epiphany with gratitude for her hard-earned wisdom: “The closer we are to the glass door of death / The freer we are to cornerstone live.” 

 —Holly J. Hughes, author of Passings, winner of an American Book Award

Photo by Berk Ucak. Top Photo by AscentXMedia.

“Hugging Alder” for Pushcart.

TulipTree Review‘s Publisher and Editor-in-Chief Jennifer Top nominated my 2024 Merit Prize winning poem, “Hugging Alder,” for a Pushcart Prize. This honor is difficult to write about because I was quite surprised and grateful. So that you can read it easily, here is a link to a second contest I have entered it into, The Nature of Our Times: Poems on America’s Lands, Waters, Wildlife, and Other Natural Wonders. It will be considered for publication in an anthology published by Paloma Press of California in connection with the Kent State Wick Center and PoetsforScience.org. Originally, TulipTree published the poem in Stories That Need to be Told, 2024.

https://www.tuliptreepub.com/pushcart-nominees.html

Photographs below by Laura E. Garrard, Copyright 2025.

The Winter of My Contentment

This Will Be the Winter of My Contentment

Sienna satin waves roll through dusk,
Clean expectations of what’s next,
Unknowing heartens my hold,
Fall wind unfastens the shoulds,
Driftwood carves its own art.

I will receive purpose like a loving child,
Tune and pick that old guitar
As an eager beginner,
Promise the cloud-frothing pastels
I will paint them yet in watercolor.

Light dims my stiffened hands home
Among wafts of camp spaghetti,
Damp leaves, frost coming, and pine.
Gentle I go past tree-huddled teens
In black T-shirts, jeans and goosebumps.

I’m far from that age but recall
Their vast empty calling cards
And loose anticipation
With a hint of driving rain.
I will find my youth again.

Copyright 2024 Laura E. Garrard
All photography by Laura E. Garrard

Solstice Psalm

The long night says
become still, prepare.
Oh how I fight being held,
like a squirmy child,
lips tight, head turned
from sticky cherry syrup
offered on a spoon
from mother’s hand.
I try too hard to heal myself
when I need to fall like sleep
into god’s keep,
the arms of an ancient wood.

Copyright 2024 Laura E. Garrard

Enjoying the Calm

Enjoying the Calm

Today I approached the lake
And observed that she was very still.
She said, I’m thinking.
About what? I asked.
My destiny,
About where I’m going.
Ah, me too, I said.
I’d rather stay here with you.
Me too, I agreed,
This valley holds infinite beauty
And nourishes my breath and body.
She said, But if we stay here
We will not discover 
What may happen
If we were to explore
Elsewhere.
I said, True,
But we can be
Here together now,
Enjoy your sparkling sunshine,
And not worry about leaving just yet.
She said the winter storms are coming-
I don’t want them to, but they will-
The waves and current 
Will carry this me away.
I know, I said,
We will spend some time
And enjoy the calm.

By Laura E. Garrard
Oct. 8 2021


All photos above and below by Laura E. Garrard, Copyright 2021

I Became a Drop of Water One Day

In celebration of Poetry in Your Pocket Day, during this Poetry Month of April, I recorded myself reciting this poem (in the above video) while kayaking on Crescent Lake.

I became a drop of water one day
I floated from a cloud into a high hillside creek
And flowed downward to join a magnificent turquoise river
The river rushed into an emerald oblong lake
Where I greeted trout and merganser feet
I filled the entire lake as all drops linked together
I felt my body reach from one shore to the other
As well as separate to myself, the original droplet
After I had known fully my lake environ
I streamed out to the bay, then rougher moving sea
Joining currents stronger than me
Carrying me to other shores and other beings
I grew in knowledge, strength, and courage
Finally after a lifespan, I recognized myself again
For the water is me
Fills me
Nourishes me
And heals me
I became a drop of water one day
And through it realized the essence of all creation

By Laura E. Garrard, Copyright 2021
Feb. 5, 2021



[Top and Below Photos all by Laura E. Garrard, Copyright 2021]

Recognition

 Recognition
  
 So easily we are sucked in
 To rhythm, to culture, to doing
 Again and again we try to escape
 Those dreaded thoughts I should
 It peers, leers from around the hall corner
 Of our calm, beige alcoves
 And lures us in as dreams, discovery
 Snaking around our ankles
 Until it catches hold
 Dragging us unknowingly to the depths
 Of holes we never quite escape
 Just when our chins reach the rim
 And purity begins its rise
 We let go of our reclaiming
 The depth of who we really are
 In exchange for ambition, adoration
 Short-lived achievements and the next
 The next, what’s next, yes it’s always next
 For what are we if not our doings
 Are we anything but a wisp, a breeze
 An unfilled chalice
  
 I become as smooth as water
 As I gaze into the waving reflection
 The continuity of rolling liquid
 Explains the repetitive nothingness existing
 So frighteningly inside us
 A vast vase holding who knows what for what reason
 Except for those who can break away from the serpent of season
 Conquer the self and end the circle of want and challenge
 And enter the peace of it’s done, everlasting satisfaction
 The soul need not be searched
 It’s already fully present
 Waiting for the moment of complete solace
 Recognizing that being known is not making renowned a name 
 Or being drawn to destiny
 It’s about the unborn waiting for its first breath
 And the death of desire to be anything but breath itself 

By Laura E. Garrard, Copyright 2021
Jan. 22, 2021

[Photo above: "Riding Reflection," By Laura E. Garrard, Copyright 2021]

Rainbows in Misty Times

Rainbows In Misty Times

I drive in misty times
Returning home anew
A rainbow parades my presence
Stretching from north to south
Of our lakeside view
Sun from behind perfectly sets the stage
A reassuring gesture
Wilderness’ way of welcome
To this stranger
From a place of fresh experience
Unknowns abounding
Is this really my reality?
And yet the ribbon rest assures
These are the colors you’ve chosen
This You may truly be different
Even though the unruly untimely side plot chapter
Seems not your probable parent
This is still your place of power
This vulnerable spot, ever-changing
As you watch the weather projecting
The lack of control and protection
In life, yet it is a type of comfort
You within the stillness nature brings
So enjoy, playful otter
The Thunderbird directs from above
And the rainbow spans the distance
Between this self and the former,
Heaven and the horizon
Shining light, perhaps ultimate truth, on clearer water

By Laura E. Garrard, Copyright 2020

Oct. 23, 2020

“Crescent Rainbow” & Above Photo (“Rainbow in Mist”) By Laura E. Garrard, Copyright 2021