Summer, as usual, is flying by, and in trying to cram the most summer into my summer, my voice here has been pretty quiet. But that doesn’t mean I’m not working, folks. I redecorated my son’s bedroom into a guest room/writing room, so now I have my own quiet space in the house, a “room of my own,” so to speak. And I have been writing. And revising. And reading. And reviewing. And submitting. All of those writerly things I’m supposed to be doing.
But I have also been walking my dogs. Lifting weights. Doing yard work. Going to concerts. Getting my hair cut short. Visiting my parents. Watching movies with my husband. Getting ready to entertain friends. Prepping for the impending school year. (Only two weeks away. Yikes.)
And amidst all this, I have been thinking about the whole competitive aspect of the writing world: applying for residencies and grants, book competitions, etc. I wonder if I place too much emphasis on being “accepted” here or there, “winning” something rather than focusing on what those opportunities really bring me: time, community, and an audience. At 52, almost finished with a long public school teaching career, I am not trying to pad a resumé to advance my career. I have no delusions of ever being a “famous” poet, whatever that means. So I need to adjust my thinking.
I did apply for one residency next summer. That will be the only one I do apply for. If I don’t get it, I can spend less money and almost as much time to create my own retreat, perhaps invite a writerly friend along, and find a pretty place to escape from the duties of home and just work. I have two chapbooks that need homes, but rather than continue to spend money to send them to contests, I will be patient and wait for open submission periods from small presses I admire. Submissions to journals are different – I don’t mind “competing” in that market, since that is how our poems find an audience. But I need to be more focused on why I write in the first place – to tell stories, to communicate the world in a way that only I can see it. To be a member of a literary community. To put words together and make meaning.