I have been feeling that funk that I sometimes feel when the people around me and my Facebook friends are enjoying book publication success. It's not an envy--on the contrary, for every story of the good news of book-length publishing to people I know as real humans, not just names, I find some comfort. This good news does come to regular people, not just the already established authors whose names are known across the country.
But that good feeling is soon followed by the whine: "When will it be my turn?"
I hear the voice of a good writer friend in my ear: "What have you sent out? Have you written to that agent yet?"
She is right. I have to get back to making more submissions: individual poems to journals, book-length manuscripts to publishers.
I am following through with my New Year's resolution to write a poem two days a week. Now I need to be more intentional about getting poems, short stories, and my memoir/essay collection out into the world.
As if to reinforce these ideas, I've gotten some nods from the universe this week. Yesterday morning, I got an e-mail from a journal. I almost didn't open it, as I assumed it would be a rejection. But rejections don't usually begin this way: "How wonderful to see your name in our in box again!"
My poem, "Cassandra Considers the Dust" will be published soon, and I'll post the link. Hurrah!
I spent the middle part of the week having a wonderful Facebook conversation about the possibilities for Angel Gabriel poems. I'm feeling like I'm seeing good harbingers for 2015.
May this week be a sign of things to come. I want 2015 to be a year of good changes, unlike 2014, which was a year of loss and premonitions of losses to come.
So, let me visualize this. It is New Year's Eve, the waning hours of 2015. I drink a glass of champagne and reflect. I think back to January, that first acceptance of the year. I think about my book-length collection of poems that just came out, the contract for my memoir/book of essays signed in the fall, the book advance in my bank account, the schedule for revisions ambitious but manageable.
It is New Year's Eve, 2015. I raise my glass to all the changes that are in process. I say a prayer of gratitude for my good fortune. I say a prayer for others who are still waiting for their good fortune. I say a prayer for transformation, a society that turns away from madness and anger and towards art that revives and revitalizes.
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