While I did not complete and send out my chapbook manuscript, I did compile the poems I'd like to put into that first chapbook. And I put together and sent out 5 poems to a reputable national poetry journal. I dropped them off in the post office slot at 9:50pm. Phew.
In the meantime, I see my work as so doggone juvenile, limited and/or self-indulgent. This is not me fishing. This is me saying I need to read more, broaden my vocabulary and subject matter, extend my voice and lengthen but tighten my poems. I don't think I'll get too obscure and academic and intentionally inaccessible, but I do need to move closer to something that can hold its own among the well-known poets in the country today. And dang, there are a LOT of those!
I realize this sounds awfully egotistical, the thought that I could reach that level. But if I don't believe my poetry will ever afford me a reputation and respect among peers, what are the chances that it will all on its own, without me thinking it could happen?
Tired, now. Still suffering from strep (can feel it at night), and last night I didn't really sleep. I played the "I'll set the alarm for an hour from now and get up and write" game from 11pm-2am. After D. got home, I told myself I'd get up at 4:30am and write. Then it was 5. Then I barely made it to work on time after all. So tonight, I'll try for a full (or almost full) 6 hours of sleep.
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