I love the clarity of this piece.  It relaxes me, somehow, and helps me to feel content with my personal “diligence”.

Previously Unpublished

This goes out to all the blogging writers, posting poetry and snippets of prose: You do realize that you won’t be able to submit this work for publication, correct?  

Most publishers won’t consider works that are published on personal websites … which is why I’ve been removing work from this site, after enough time passes for me to not hate it so feverishly.

Don’t get me wrong, the whole reason I set up a blogging site in the first place was to hold myself accountable for a little regular writing.  I wanted to be more active, and write consistently, and then I started thinking it would be nice to interact with other writers. Mostly, my mom commented on my work, each poem my “best yet!” according to her.  

Writing, posting, editing, posting, revising, writing … it was enough to create some momentum and courage.  I kept writing. I kept posting.

I go through phases where I send out work like crazy.  I’m licking envelopes the old fashioned way and submishmashing at the same time.  I make trips to the post office on deadline days.  I get puffed up and confident.  I know it will be awhile until the rejections arrive.  Now it’s time to get serious, for real.

I’ve taken down the old site and made sure this new one is linked to social media sites for purposes of self promotion (you’d better believe it, twenty-first century baby).  It kills me to write a new poem and keep it to myself, and yet I love wanting to share it after so many years of hoarding.  Now I’m not sure what I’m writing for daily consumption, exactly.  Stuff like this, I suppose.  Commentary and reflection, and blah, blah, blah. Just like everyone else?  Thanks, but no thanks?

The golden age of letter writing has passed.  Now, we document grave and trivial moments in 140 or fewer characters.  Margaret Atwood referred to social media and blogging as modern diary keeping — it’s just public now.  We are all exhibitionists. 

I’ve been avoiding my nonfiction goals for almost four years.  I just need 35 pages of text to circulate, but it’s been killing me.  I guess here is as good a place as any to hold myself accountable once again.  Just don’t be surprised if the posts disappear after a few weeks.