Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Past (not very) tense

I pulled down my "Selected Poems of Federico Garcia Lorca" paperback tonight, and started thumbing through the pages.  Apparently, many many moons ago, I ripped up pieces of paper and stuck them in where I thought there were things I should note.  Things I clearly wanted to revisit and remember.  What a lovely trip down memory lane.  I remember going through this Lorca phase my sophomore year of college.  I remember how I had red plastic cat-eyed glasses and a fondness for Doc Martens.  I remember the boy I had a crush on in my Poetry 253 class.  Most of all I remember being happy.  It was a good time and place for me.  Perhaps I will go back before bed and re-read some of Lorca's poems (because they are magnificent).  But for right now, I am very content just dwelling on my memories that have nothing to do with Spanish poets, and everything to do with poetry.

Sunday, December 11, 2011


Here's the thing, I know the word "brainstorm" seems rather trite and overused, but to me it is a vivid word and brings to mind some crazy images that are big and bold.  I rather like it, both as a noun and a verb.  Anyway, I am digressing.  (SHOCKER!)  Okay, bringing it on back to the topic at hand...

While drinking coffee and doing more doodling in my notebook than writing (shock #2 of the day, right?) it occurred to me that I have been mulling over objects more so than concepts as of late.  To clarify, I keep pulling up images of items - - antique pocket watches, abandoned lighthouses, and yellowed maps.  Not so much how I normally roll with brainstorming ideas for new poems.  Usually I go off of sheer feeling and emotion.  It could be anything that brings on what I call "The Feeling" - - but this has most definitely not been the case recently.

This should be an adventure to say the least.  We'll see how it turns out.  This is yet another one of those things that can go one of two ways...you know what I mean.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

"Seriously?", she asked with a raised eyebrow.

At last count I have 21 poems out for review to five different places.  Holy. Shit.

First, I kind of want to pat myself on the back for keeping up with my goal of one submission per month.  So "go me"!  Second, I kind of want to tear all of my hair out because this waiting business is for the birds.  Seriously, I know that I have touched on this topic before, but it does not make me any less impatient.  I have a hard time waiting for that self-addressed stamped envelope to boomerang back.  I can handle a rejection letter with much grace and aplomb (no really, I totally can).  I am simply very uncomfortable thinking about what goes on between the time someone opens my submission envelope and my SASE is returned.  Who is reading my stuff?  What do they think?  Am I conveying emotion?  Am I making connections with readers?  SO. STRESSFUL.  I mean, I am a creative person!  (Read: overactive imagination.)  I am able to go from zero to worst-case-scenario is less than 5 seconds!  It is way too easy for me to dream up the most horrible situation, including raging editors and giggling editorial assistants who scoff at my feeble attempts to publish.  Sigh.

Oh well.  There will always be hazelnut coffee and the interwebs to keep me sufficiently distracted for a bit longer.  Ending pity party sequence - now.