A Writer's Notebook, Day Four-Hundred-And-Twenty-Seven
As I have mentioned before, I feel it is important for me to shift my attitude about submissions so that I feel less egotistical about the process. I want to be able to consider each submission as my putting work in front of publishing professionals who I would like to work with. It is not merely about whether they accept my work at that moment, but about showing my work to people of influence in my profession. That attitude alters my focus from seeking the acceptance to the actual act of putting the work in front of an editor or agent. I recognize the value of that attitude, and I think it is far more positive than just waiting to hear back with belief that acceptance is the only important, positive outcome.
At the same time, if I am to be honest, I know I am not there, and that a part of me is actively against this belief. A part of me is invested in the notion that publication is the real arbiter of success, and I often feel that I have yet to fully start my professional career, because I don't yet have those credits. Publishing is, of course, an important thing for a writer, if they wish to be a professional, but I am not in control of that. At the same time, I should not dismiss the work I am already doing because it is not yet finding homes in publications. I've been engaged, for some time now, in a very serious project of writing poetry, and I believe that the work is of value. Certainly, it is possible for a person to write endlessly and without merit, but that is not the same as a writer setting down to their task, and I believe I am within the latter category. Of course, my belief in that is not, for me, enough, which is why I want the validation that comes with publication. That is the catch of it, really.
In some ways, it actually grows worse as I write so much more. It is natural to fear that writing so much at such a pace might actually impact the work adversely. Perhaps, one thinks, my creative energy or inspiration is limited, perhaps each poem is receiving less of some magic ingredient when I write so much. I have certainly wondered if I am writing too fast, if I am missing important poems because I am not spending time allowing them to gestate. Such fears are, I think, a normal thing, and I would probably be in more trouble if I never had such doubts.
Yet, writing so much, I often do not feel equipped to judge my works merits. I am often exploring in ways that are not entirely clear to me. Writing so much, it is only natural that the work would not remain the same, but would shift. The new work often feels unfamiliar to me, and I don't know how to assess it soberly. That is one reason why it is important to have other poets who can look at my work and offer opinions, and I am very lucky to have people I trust who are honest with me about my writing. While I do still long for the validation that comes with work being recognized in print, I am often moved when a friend says just a few encouraging words. So, while I cannot entirely deny or remove my desire for recognition in the wider world, I do feel a strong sense of satisfaction that I am making real progress, even if I am not yet seeing the results of that labor.
At the same time, if I am to be honest, I know I am not there, and that a part of me is actively against this belief. A part of me is invested in the notion that publication is the real arbiter of success, and I often feel that I have yet to fully start my professional career, because I don't yet have those credits. Publishing is, of course, an important thing for a writer, if they wish to be a professional, but I am not in control of that. At the same time, I should not dismiss the work I am already doing because it is not yet finding homes in publications. I've been engaged, for some time now, in a very serious project of writing poetry, and I believe that the work is of value. Certainly, it is possible for a person to write endlessly and without merit, but that is not the same as a writer setting down to their task, and I believe I am within the latter category. Of course, my belief in that is not, for me, enough, which is why I want the validation that comes with publication. That is the catch of it, really.
In some ways, it actually grows worse as I write so much more. It is natural to fear that writing so much at such a pace might actually impact the work adversely. Perhaps, one thinks, my creative energy or inspiration is limited, perhaps each poem is receiving less of some magic ingredient when I write so much. I have certainly wondered if I am writing too fast, if I am missing important poems because I am not spending time allowing them to gestate. Such fears are, I think, a normal thing, and I would probably be in more trouble if I never had such doubts.
Yet, writing so much, I often do not feel equipped to judge my works merits. I am often exploring in ways that are not entirely clear to me. Writing so much, it is only natural that the work would not remain the same, but would shift. The new work often feels unfamiliar to me, and I don't know how to assess it soberly. That is one reason why it is important to have other poets who can look at my work and offer opinions, and I am very lucky to have people I trust who are honest with me about my writing. While I do still long for the validation that comes with work being recognized in print, I am often moved when a friend says just a few encouraging words. So, while I cannot entirely deny or remove my desire for recognition in the wider world, I do feel a strong sense of satisfaction that I am making real progress, even if I am not yet seeing the results of that labor.
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