Expectations and Gratitude
Gratitude first.
Thanks to Meredith for taking the kids to daycare today and providing me with a day to write, read, and be.
She's always got her hand's full, but she's managed to handle all the rough patches with grace and dignity.
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As for the expectations, I've realized something about this current prose poem manuscript that I'm penning--I think I have the expectation that I'll be able to write my way out of it, but I'm starting to realize that I'm just as lost as my protagonist.
Usually the way I manage to end writing projects is when I decide to sit down and create a form for a manuscript, and usually that form rises out of a necessary understanding of the relationships between poems.
This project feels like a novella and not a poetry manuscript. This is okay with me, but I have an innate sense of perfectionism that wants it to be tidy. So what I clearly expect from the writing is for it to reveal its answers and tell me what is going to happen and what it is.
That probably ain't going to happen.
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I listened to a story yesterday about a minotaur called "Ziggaurat." It's by Stephen O'Connor. In many ways, that story showed me ways out of my own labyrinth. Credit where credit is due.
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Wrote a quick blog posting about my Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival Experience. It should be up on Friday. When it is, I'll post the link.
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Current Spin: