This week so the resurface of some old frustrations that I had thought I had put to bed. I like to write in the mornings. This is when my head feels most clear and once my writing is done then I know nothing can get in the way of it. I just feel better doing it this way. It makes for a good start to the day.
My mornings are not a sacred time though, well not to anyone but me. There are three other people in the house who can interrupt it. It’s not important to them and why should it be. They have there own things to do. Most likely to bother me is my daughter who is almost four. Although she doesn’t usually get up until 7:30 she will often wake up earlier and down she comes and it’s game over. I am mostly at peace with this, I can’t change it, but here and there I can’t pretend I don’t get frustrated, especially if she arrives just as I am about to sit down and I have managed to get nothing done.
This time last year I can remember this driving me demented. Not so much now. It’s frustrating yes but she won’t be little forever, it’s just part of the pattern of life I am in right now. As I type this she is lying on my knee farting (she farts a lot, she is quite proud of this) and she is lovely. More lovely than anything I might ever write.
My second obstacle this week was good old fashioned tiredness. I do need quite a lot of sleep. I go to bed early for the most part but on Monday night I ran my first classes for a new youth theatre company I am setting up. The night went well but my head was so full of thinking it wouldn’t let me go to sleep and I was awake until the wee hours. So I slept in. But a poem a day means a poem a day. So there was a bit of comedy writing where I basically wrote a poem while I was drying my hair. Will it be any good? Probably not. Or maybe I have discovered an amazing new technique for writing and will win all the prizes. But it’s not the point, the point is just to write my one a day.
Submissions wise I am feeling a bit itchy. I haven’t done any yet with the exception of one competition (only 52 to go!). On the one hand I want to take time to get my work ready. On the other hand I know the stuff has to be out there or you won’t get anywhere. I have a lot of poems. Perhaps too many. They are certainly quantity not quality at the moment. I can only hope that by writing a lot I am more likely to produce the odd one that is half decent. Time will tell. They are at least reasonably organised
At the moment I keep all my drafts from one month in a folder marked submissions then within another folder marked by the name of that month. They then get filed away for three months. After that I open it up again and decide which ones I am going to work on further, these get moved to my batch folder, I am currently on batch 1. This is within a new folder titled submissions. Within my submissions I have the batch folder, a folder for in submission for once they are sent out and then another for returned. I also keep track of my submission on a spreadsheet, well two actually. One that lists by title of poem and one that lists by title of place of submission. The poem one allows me to see quickly how many times a poem has been sent out. The place of submission allows me to keep track of dates sent and when I should hear back. It’s not as complicated as it sounds and so far it seems to be working for me.Watch Full Movie Online Streaming Online and Download
Mr Shakespeare had an easier start this week although I suspect that the first two lines of the sonnet (When forty winters have beseeched they brow, and dug deep trenches in thy beauties field) was easier to remember because it was a bit too close to home! The rest of it went in eventually, I can’t say it was any easier than last week but I do hope I can keep this up, I just feel like it’s going to be good for me somehow.
This week I read, or rather guzzled, Josephine Corcoran’s pamphlet The Misplaced House. I read it too quickly. This is a bad habit of mine when I get a poetry book I like, I sort of binge read it. I will have to read it again more slowly. At the moment I can not shake of the first poem in the book. It’s one of those poems that get under your skin and I’ve found it popping into my head all week. You can go and read it here and see why for yourself. It’s a poem that makes me want to write poems that matter.
I had one rejection this week, an old one, six months old. That’s the longest anyone has taken (apart from the ones who don’t bother to reply that is) so it’s good to get that new wait time in my head. I’d certainly rather hear in six months than never. The not hearing has a very unpleasant unfinished feeling about it that I dislike. I also received the picture of a piece of artwork that was written in response to a poem I had written (which was also written in response to a piece of art). This is to be part of a follow up book to the Book of Sand edited by Karen Dennison. It was a lovely project to be a part of and I can’t wait to see the finished result. You can read the poem and find out more about this lovely project here.
Apart from that life has been the usual hustle and bustle of school runs, kids parties, snow, kids taxi service, fighting with the housework and generally trying not to forget things (things forgotten so far this week include gloves, phone, car keys, an appointment, a message for my mum). If only I was doing a year of forgetting things, I would be well on my way.