An Apology: June 2, 2014
I have been having severe back problems that may neceessitate surgery. SO many things I should be attending ti (such as these posts) have fallen by the wayside. In fact I can’t even fly to Scotland for my annual sojourn because I can’t sit in the plane for right hours.
But as I was conversing (by email) with a writing friend, I began to write this and realized that it’s something I want to have here.
I hate that we writers measure our success by whether we get a book contract, a starred review, a huge sale, notice in the NY Times, etc. Sometimes the most important things we write never get published, or get overlooked, or stunningly dumped on, or go OP within a year.
Yet when we wrote the poem/story, we understood ourselves, our world better than we ever had before. We were–for the moment(s) of writing–on fire as stunningly as an Old Testament prophet hearing and sharing the words of God. Yet somehow that fire no longer seems hot enough. Strong enough. Not nearly enough.
The problem then is how to keep the faith–in ourselves, in our writing–when no one else seems to have kept it. How to rekindle the flame when no ne wants to come near enough to be warmed (or warned) by it.