I’ve got a lot on my mind, so I’m just gonna shoot from the hip.
Book will come out in October. Tell all your friends. I am not going to sell 100 copies of this book either and call it a success. That is not the person I am. I am going to sell the shit out of this book of poetry, if for no other reason to prove that you can sell a book of poetry. I am going to make Barnes and Noble crave my book of poetry. I am going to win over the hearts of the non-poetry readers and I am going to establish myself as a Denver poet.
It’s going to be the most terrifying experience of my life.
Next note. Writer’s block. It sucks. It happens. I wrote hundreds of poems this year. As of lately – haven’t written anything. Well, I write stuff, but it’s not worth its weight in… anything. I am in transition, got a lot of stuff going on in my life. I’m trying to lose weight. I’m trying to be extremely outgoing instead of slightly outgoing. I’m trying to get out of debt. And I’m starting to hit bonus at work again, which is great because it helps fund my passion.
Each day I’m a step closer to writing as a career. A step closer to making my passion my job. And god would it be nice. (I know, lofty poet dreams of writing poetry for a career. Doesn’t happen, but – I will try and! I have short stories and a novel in progress to help.)
Did I mention this post is ADD-fueled?
My blood is Cherry Coke Zero right now.
I received a rejection letter today on my poetry, and I’m sorry but those still burn. They will always burn. You mail your heart off to some indiscriminate land where you have no idea what they are doing to the poor helpless creature and two months later, you receive a kindly worded rejection letter. It’s a rejection letter. How could that not hurt? Imagine if you got an e-mail that said you weren’t a very good lover. Imagine if you got an e-mail that said the foundation that you have built your life upon is a bedrock of lies. I know; my pieces just weren’t right for you. Please submit again. What it is more than anything is the moment before you open the rejection letter and that happy fairy flies into your soul through your ear and you think this is it, and then you open that e-mail and the fairy dies because no one is clapping and no one believes in fairies.
Take a breath.
Okay. Next topic. I am so excited for this blog. I have a habit of travelling through things at 150 miles per hour, but burn through my tank of gas way too quickly. I’m excessive, then I fizzle out. This blog will not fizzle out. This blog will only get stronger. So on that note, I ask you, dear reader, what do you want to see? More contests? More poetry? Does anyone want to interview me? I’m not famous but I’ll try to be interesting for you. I am a writer in search of an audience and I want to be a gear in the conversation machine.
Because when it all comes down to it, I agree with my college professor; the biggest disease of humanity is loneliness. Let’s talk. Let’s break down walls. Let’s not be afraid to be our ugly beautiful selves. Never be afraid to whore yourself on my blog either. If you’ve got something you want the world to see (and it doesn’t belong on a porn site) show it. That’s what this is all about. I want to help foster this.
I’m gonna start reviewing stuff. I’m reading Bukowski (again). Be ready for a long review on The Pleasures of the Damned.
Really, this is it. If God is gonna pull the plug on my poetry machine, I am going to manually power any machines I can by stationary bicycle. I think a break from poetry will be good anyways. I want to take this chance to stop writing alone in notebooks and start writing out loud to the world. I want to end the monologue and begin the dialogue. I want to listen more than I speak.
And I hope you’re still reading this. I look forward to getting to know all of you better.
Starry-Eyed and Running on E