Random Thoughts
Remember the Dream.
Game Plan.
I’m 75% done with the truth handbook. My estimate - I’m 10-12 poems away from being finished with the first draft. It’ll probably take me writing 20-25 poems to get to those 10-12 that actually fit with the rest, but so be it. There’s light at the end of the tunnel, I’m almost at the finish line, insert appropriate cliché, etc. My goal is to have the manuscript tight and refined by April or May – then I’ll have two poetry manuscripts to throw at the book competitions and open calls for submissions. Plenty of unpublished material to submit to lit mags and contests as well. After that, I want to rededicate myself to writing fiction for the remainder of the year.
When putting together my first (still unpublished) book, My Own Brand of Blues, I used to just write poems that were eventually drawn together into a manuscript. Now I'm writing poems to go into a book - though of course not just for the book, but in large part, most of the new pieces I’m composing will go into it. I find this somehow focuses me...even if there's not even a chance anyone will publish these manuscripts at all. Sigh.
The Beauty of Feedback.
Lit mag editors who give constructive criticism with their rejections do a great service to the writing community. I realize time constraints prohibit most from giving feedback aside from pre-written rejection slips or emails, but when a writer sees why his/her piece didn’t make the cut, it is enlightening.
For example, I recently received response back from an online journal that rejected several of my works. However, included were responses from the editorial staff that gave me insight into why my poems weren’t up to their standards. Some suggested changes that I think would damage the original creative vision of the poem. Others made suggestions of cutting out fluff that wasn’t needed – edits I agreed with and did right away. Instantly those pieces became stronger because of those comments.
Even if I disagree with an editor’s opinion, it’s enlightening to see how my writing is perceived. For example, one poem did contain a commonly used phrase, but I had employed some wordplay that I felt took that phrase away from its clichéd meaning. However, the editorial staff instantly stamped this phrase as hackneyed. Have I eliminated the line from my poem? Not yet – I still feel the wordplay is slick, and I’d have to come up with a line better than it before I just give up on it. But their comments have me thinking about it, revisiting its structure, trying to find a way to circumvent the cliché.
That’s where feedback helps – I wouldn’t be thinking about this line it wasn’t for the comments. Now I have a chance, whether today or a week from now, to take an idea from a brainstorming session and see if it “fits” in this poem to replace the (perceived) cliché. Their comments moved this poem from “finished” status in my mind and challenged me with the notion that it still may need work.
Does this happen for every piece that an editor may comment on? No, there are some comments that I’m admittedly just too pigheaded to accept. But the fact that the right criticism might spur a writer to refine a piece is priceless. It makes writers better at their craft and their next submission more polished, so editors can have a stronger pool of work to review and, in turn, create a superior publication/literary journal. It’s a win/win, in my view. There is only so much we can get out of peer reviews – it is the opinions of editors that really matter.
Editors, I know your time is precious. But when you do have the time, even if it is just for one poem or story, please let us know what didn’t work in our writing. We all want to get better to make your job easier and only submit pieces that are publishable. I appreciate the comments, even if I don’t always agree. I’m sure other writers do as well.
First Post of 2009.
Meant to post this yesterday, or the day before that, but my truncated attention span got caught up with going places and watching football and and work other minor diversions. Sigh.
Rather than bore you with the typical clichéd “what I did and didn’t do right in 2008” self-absorbed writer’s blog babble, I’m just going to say last year was good, but I am looking to grow - both as a writer and a person. I want to get my poetry manuscript in the hands of someone who wants to publish it, finish the second poetry book that I am approximately 75% done with, and start back to writing more short fiction. Oh, and get a little more reading time in, since I feel like I’m a much better writer when I’m a more active reader. All of those things seem like accomplishable goals, if I put my mind to it. I can raise the bar to unachievable levels later, there’s plenty of time left in this year to shatter dreams and create doubt.
2009 - A glorious new year of opportunity. Or the same shit in a different toilet. Either way…Happy New Year to all of you.
Incoherent babble and upcoming stuff.
Been writing poetry like a madman. About halfway done with my second poetry manuscript, tentatively titled the truth handbook. Hard for me to work on the second book when I have yet to find a publisher for the first one, but I have to push on.
I have yet to learn how to control my muse, so I have not written much fiction lately, but hoping that will change soon. Obviously I let that NaNoWriMo goal slip past me. I didn’t even feign trying. I didn’t even sign up. My bad. I’ll get ‘em next year.
My poem Hello Songs, winner of the Poetry Society of New Hampshire’s August 2008 contest, was recently published in The Poet’s Touchstone.
My poem Tell Me Lies in a Dead Language, which appeared online in The Shine Journal, has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize – click here for proof. Yay! I consider being nominated a huge honor, so big thanks to editor Pamela Tyree Griffin.
My poem Prophecy will appear in the online journal Stone's Throw, a literary magazine based in Montana featuring writers and artists from around the world. Sweet. Thanks to poetry editor Tami Haaland for the chance to contribute.
My poem Seasonal Affective Disorder will appear in Main Channel Voices, a literary journal based out of Winona, Minnesota. This is my second chance to be part of this “dam fine” publcation, and I definitely appreciate the opportunity.
Well, it’s past 10 PM. Time to write. Such is the life of an insomniac creative. Be good…
Go on and brush your shoulders off, Mr. President-Elect.
Anything is possible. The end.
Vote.
If you call yourself a writer, then write.
As a writer, as well as in life, I practice the Japanese philosophy of Kaizen, continual improvement by taking small steps.
Adhering to this principle, I don’t intentionally set out trying to write a book manuscript. I simply write a page here and there, sometimes just a paragraph, and sometimes only a sentence or a phrase. But I attempt to do that daily, and I find the small steps add up to a greater journey. True, I often have to sift through some awful pieces of prose and crappy poetic pieces to find something that I have the nerve to send out to publishers. But that is part of the greater journey that I just mentioned.
It’s about continuous progress as a writer, even when I fall short of capturing everything my mind was trying to express. No matter what happens, good or bad, I just keep writing.
That is the point. If you call yourself a writer, then write – don’t just talk about writing, do it. Don’t get all wrapped up in what magazine rejected your story, what contest snubbed your poem, or who booed you off the stage at a local poetry slam. Within each failure is a success, because you are busy doing while other people are reacting. Take from their reaction, grow, and then try again.
Put a stamp on it. If you can still afford one.
Yes, the USPS is now the official front runner in the glamorous world of extortion.
I just felt the pinch of the latest news from the United States Postal Service. That's right, people: We can look forward to yet another postal rate increase! (It felt like just the other day that the cost of a first-class stamp went up to $0.41, right?) This bothers me because I send out so many submissions to contests and magazines via snail mail - which makes the economics of being a practicing writer even more depressing.
The new rates take effect on May 12. So there is plenty of time to stock up on those "Forever" stamps. But still...damn.
Remember Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. - January 21, 2008
Ten quotes from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
1. He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it. -- "Stride Toward Freedom," 1958.
2. The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy. -- "Strength to Love," 1963.
3. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. -- "Letter from Birmingham Jail," April 16, 1963.
4. Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity. -- "Strength to Love," 1963.
5. Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor. -- "Letter from Birmingham Jail," April 16, 1963.
6. The means by which we live have outdistanced the ends for which we live. Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided men. -- "Strength to Love," 1963.
7. Nonviolent direct action seeks to create such a crisis and foster such a tension that a community which has constantly refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. -- "Letter from Birmingham Jail," April 16, 1963.
8. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. -- "I Have a Dream," civil rights march on Washington, D.C., August 28, 1963. (Source: The New York Times)
9. Nonviolence is a powerful and just weapon. It is a weapon unique in history, which cuts without wounding and ennobles the man who wields it. It is a sword that heals. -- "Why We Can't Wait," 1964.
10. The security we profess to seek in foreign adventures we will lose in our decaying cities. -- [Referring to U.S. Vietnam policy.] Address at Riverside Church, New York. (Source: History Today, April 1998)
...now we are here.
Happy New Year. Welcome to 2008. Is it everything you dreamed it would be?
Are we there yet?
Don't know why, but I'm just a little impatient to finish this year and start anew.
Hard at Work Writing Masterpieces?
Or maybe I'm screwing around and just surfing the net? :)
Backup File Blues, Redux
Yep, the computer nerds got back to me this morning. Murphy's Law still has a strong influence in my life. The flash drive is completely shot, they weren't able to get anything off of it. A lesson about computers (re)learned, I guess. My inner Fred Sanford shouts, "Backup all your files, you big dummy."
It's not nearly as bad as I first thought. I have copies of most of the poems and stories on my laptop hard drive, just not my most recent edits. But I have to compile all of these things and organize them and re-edit them to polished final form...all time and energy that could/should be used for writing.
It being the end of 2007, this is a good time for me to do this task and assess the work I have done and where I am going (or not) as a writer and all that other sentimental reflective bull crap. Guess that will be my chore for the weekend. The sooner I start, the quicker I can move on to better things. Sigh.
In the irony category, the first poem I wrote since the untimely death of my flash drive earlier this week was titled Burn Everything Down and Start Over. Kinda fitting...
Well, I am hoping for some good news today. A contest that I entered is allegedly supposed to post the winners list online today. Fingers crossed, hoping I'll be back later with some positive news to offset this flash drive fiasco. Two words: cautiously optimistic.
Backup File Blues
You'd figure after all the damn term papers I've lost in high school and college, after all the projects I've lost at work when the server crashed, that maybe, just maybe I'd have sense enough to have backup files of all my writing. Duh.
Yet here I am, mourning the apparent loss of a USB flash drive that all of sudden doesn't work after two years of faithful service. That leaves me with a LOT of poems and fiction pieces missing. So a sizeable chunk of my writing career is at a nerdy computer place...and I am hoping the tech-savvy staff there can recover all this work I've lost. The worst part: having only myself to blame, really.
Now I'm sitting here making a pledge eerily similar to those "never gonna drink again" promises I've made in the midst of a four-aspirin hangover: God please, if you help me get through this without any damage, I swear I'll never go more than a week without backing up my files...I swear.
Unfortunate News
Effective today, I am no longer affiliated with RockWay Press - therefore the manuscript My Own Brand of Blues will not be published by the company. I honestly wish the company and its authors the best in their future endeavors, but things just did not work out the way they were originally invisioned.
It is a scary yet exciting time in my writing career. Here I am, an emerging writer with no book deal and a literary world of opportunity (and pitfalls) positioned in front of me. I could conquer this situation or fall flat on my face - like Linus says in the pic, there's no heavier burden than a great potential. Either way, I will continue to pursue publishing opportunities and try to find a home for my book.
Justice for the Jena 6
A major injustice is unfolding in Jena, LA as six black young men are railroaded in a case that reads like one straight from the era of Jim Crow. Read up and take action, now. If you think this is wrong, the least you can do is sign the petition. Click here to read more about this dire situation for African Americans that has, of course, remained largely unpublicized.
Stop Waiting, Start Writing
The finest writing that I’ve produced comes from me getting sick of waiting.
I sometimes find myself waiting for someone to write a particular type of story, or maybe pen a poem about a certain subject I care deeply about. Or maybe I’m waiting for someone to produce a type of writing that would simply be exciting to me. But while I wait, nobody ever does it. I eventually get sick of waiting, so I get off my butt and write that poem or story myself. That’s how my best work as an author and poet has come about; it’s the point where I stop being content and start becoming creative. I believe that’s what a writer – or singer, artist, photographer, rapper, etc. – should be looking for. An opportunity to do something truly different. If you’re constantly waiting for someone to come up with a certain piece of art or literature that sings to you, and yet you find that nobody does it, then go and figure it out for yourself. Then you are really inspired, and you’ll produce something that is exciting to you, and hopefully in the process something that will be exciting to the world.
Rejection Notice Blues
Being a writer, you get accustomed to rejection. Seriously. I estimate on average that I get at least 20-25 rejection notices before I get a contest win or accepted to a publication. But you get pretty thick skinned and you never take it personally. I'm really not the one to complain about getting rejected. But when an editor sends me a rejection notice addressed to "Adam"...well I start to second guess if they carefully they read my work and cover letter. Seriously, how the hell does Adam = Adrian? I just can't figure that equation out. Oh well, I'll do what I always do, dust myself off and keep writing and submitting. I'm putting the finishing touches on a new poetry manuscript I plan on sending out to a couple of contests, so I'll be busy with that this weekend. I'll post up here again soon...just had to get that bit of frustration off my chest.
Sincerely,
Adam S. Potter