We could call this the snowy edition. Or the middle-of-winter-when-is-spring-coming-please-let-it-be-soon edition. Share a little of yourself with us and we promise to do the same.
I was just reading Erin Dionne’s post about her Saturday writing retreat (I did not attend but took four hours out of my Sunday to write). She reminds me that writing is an indulgent, somewhat audacious act. It requires that we take large chunks of time for ourselves. In the process, we leave behind our families and our responsibilities to feed that creative urge. It’s so important for a writer to shape his/her life in a way that allows for this time--for the hard work that goes into writing and revision.
Me? I’m up early and late working on poetry or po-biz stuff. I don’t sleep much. When I get an hour to go to Starbucks and write mid-week, I am truly grateful.
Working on my second poem of the year. I haven’t been posting drafts lately, mainly because I haven’t written much that I’ve liked. Will start posting again when the quality of my work improves.
I’m flat-out busy. FLAT OUT! Between my projects, planning for Mass Poetry Festival, and gathering interviews for AWP's blog, I’m way busier than I expected.
I have not written the definitive poem about my name. I’ve tried and they all turn out bad--really, really bad. I have better luck working January into poems as a time of year. When I’ve written the poem about my name, I can retire from poetry.
Does anyone really retire from poetry?
We are never finished writing the poem.