Dad2Three's blog fit in perfectly with my goals lately. I've had an overwhelming urge to hole myself up in a quiet room and write. Sound-proof doors would be good. I've never been able to write well with any sort of distraction around. Jesse and Randy work best with blaring music. I need perfect peace.
My muse is returning. Perhaps it is, indeed, blogging that has nudged the sluggish beast into action. Perhaps it is Dad2Three's own writing compulsion these past several months that spurs me on. Or my own hypocrisy in telling my writing students to "write every day!" when I fall so, so short. Whatever the reason(s), I have lately felt words come to me in that way they do when I am under the spell. I need to get a collection of poetry finished and published. I remembered just this week that a publisher introduced himself to me and gave me his card a couple of years ago when I did a poetry reading. I can't remember now what he said, other than that he liked my work and wanted to see more. Why didn't I contact him then? But I do still have his card--found it today, in fact. There's no money in publishing a collection of poetry, but as Dad2Three wrote--the creation itself is absolute necessity.
In the five minutes that I've been writing just now, one child has come in for duct-tape and a cork, one has requested two snacks, the dog whines at the door, the neighbor girl knocks at the door, one child insists on reading to me from the newspaper. I wouldn't trade this daily bustle for anything....but I need a few good Saturdays in the house all by myself. It really is that time.
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