A Writer's Notebook, Day Seven-Hundred-And-Fifty-Seven

 I am definitely feeling an upswing in my productivity at the moment.  I am writing six or so poems a day, though I am still not keeping a count of it.  I feel that I could be doing more, to be honest, but things are busy, and they will get even busier soon, so I don't feel the desire to press myself that much and then decide I am going too far and need to pull back again when things get crazy and I have no time.  I think I will allow myself to consider writing even more an indulgence, of a sort, which is a new perspective, and perhaps more positive, but I am not, considering it from all angles, certain how much I really can believe that, at some level.  I do believe it is an indulgence and privilege to be able to devote the time to it, in a practical sense, of course, but I mean it here in another, less literal way, as a pleasure, and their is something that seems a bit dangerous to me in considering my approach to writing from that vantage.  That is not to deny that I do enjoy writing, nor that it is a thing that satisfies me in specific ways, but it is also to dismiss certain aspects of the labor I place in my writing.  I am not doing this in pursuit of enjoyment, not as a bit of leisure.  It is a different sort of endeavor, and that is a key awareness, I think.  Again, that does not discount the importance of joy in the work, or of deriving joy from writing or from composing a particular piece.  There is a certain energy that comes through when one is in such a place and can channel it into the work, and that is of great importance.  But, the overall goal of my efforts is something else, and I do not want to begin considering writing in terms that are not framed from that professional mindset.  In part, this is a result of my fears about the difficulties I am finding in getting my work placed in journals. There is a logic, of course, in putting my desire to be a professional in this capacity aside and pursue my writing as personal passion, allowing any positive outcomes to be a boon that I can enjoy, but setting aside deeper aspirations as anything more than a hope and dream.  I know that many writers go this direction, and some will even set aside any hope of publishing while writing as a personal hobby, sharing work in more private ways.  That is fine, but I am not interested in that, and am a bit frightened of slipping in that sort of direction, as I recognize that I would be resentful of that decision and would never be at peace with it, even if it seemed so on a superficial level.  At root, I am too invested with my goals as a writer to be satisfied with that type of approach, and I also think it would impact the work itself in negative ways.  At present, I am quite pleased with much of what I am writing.  I think their are things I am learning to do, ways of approaching the structures of a poem and of considering how language works in those contexts, that I had not been considering at all, and I think my craft is honing in ways I had not considered at one point.  These things are not the result, only, of continuing to write, but of a dedicated pursuit and the intention to continue at a certain level.  One does not achieve only by doing a thing again and again, but by pushing further each time, and I know that the intensity of that would not exist in me if I were to alter my perspective towards one that was more dilettantish.