Like a Virgin

Every week, I rush to get my reading, grading, and class plans done so that I can focus on my poems for a day or two. I carry around a folder marked "THESIS" in big black letters. I keep an excel spreadsheet full of poem titles, revision dates, submission dates, rejections, editors, publications, themes, where they're saved on my computer...and I update this on an almost daily basis. I have become neurotic about poems. neurotic about my thesis, a chapbook, a manuscript...which is which? where do the poems belong? does everything I put in my thesis have to end up in a book? where are the rest of the poems going to come from, and when?

I don't know if it is because I am consumed by this idea of being "A Poet" or if it is an actual problem, but things are just not moving fast enough for me. Strange thing is, I've written two or three poems in the last couple weeks that I really like and think are ready to send out--which doesn't usually happen so quickly--yet I'm frustrated, tired of waiting for inspiration to strike, tired of waiting for ideas to come to me. Aren't I poet enough to make the poems come at will?

I sent out a bunch of poems at the end of winter break, and most of them have come back to me already (which is what I wanted), rejected. That's okay. I know I'm just starting out and I know that rejections are part of the gig. I'm not complaining. But, now that I'm in the business of collecting rejection letters, I also need to be in the business of sending things back out. And I'm having a terrible time deciding which poems to put together and which journals to submit to. I was just reading Kristy's thoughts on on-line vs. print journals (a debate which I was only vaguely aware of) and I'm realizing there are journals that I "should" want to get into more than others. I don't really have any heirarchy in mind--except whether or not I like the stuff I see in them. Maybe I'm not paying enough attention to what is going on around me. Maybe I should know that journal A has a better reputation that journal B. But I don't. And I kinda want to keep it that way. Maybe it's altruistic, but I think if my work has merit, it will be appreciated regardless of where it is published (or where my degree is from--which is important since I'm getting my MFA from a relatively unheard of program).

I guess what I'm saying is that I'm having a little "coming of age" moment as a poet. I'm still excited, more excited than I can explain, to be writing and trying to get published and feeling proud when I tell people that I write because finally I can say yes when they ask if I'm published. However, I'm also becoming aware for the first time of the politics involved, of the strategy behind submissions, and that no matter how much I want it to be, it's not just about the work. I've always been good at working the system, learning the rules and making them work for me, so I'm not worried. But I am a little sad. Just like when I was 18 and realized that my first "true love" wasn't going to last forever. It opens up a world of opportunity, but leaves behind an innocence and naivete that I'm going to miss.

Well, I think that's enough pontification before breakfast.