When I think of the publishing world, I think of myself sailing across the ocean in a tiny teacup with an umbrella broken at the joints as a sail. And I get nervous and unsure and my armpits start to sweat. There’s so many of us, there’s so many of us, there’s so many of us.
Tiny teacup
Comments
6 responses to “Tiny teacup”
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Darling Rachel, poetry is a solitary venture. It will always be a solitary venture. And the truth of it the hard truth of it is that cream rises and in poetryworld there is lots and lots of half and half tons of milk and very little cream.
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I’m much more comfortable in the solitary world of it – my world of it. Me and the birds and the light – It’s always been there for me.
When I think about the pure volume of all those people trying to “make it” it makes me terribly nervous.
And then I calm down again and go back to my world – which is where all the good stuff happens anyway.
So many people are writers and never actually write. I’m not sure how that happens.
I think elbow-grease taste better in coffee anyway. =)
thanks.
xo
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I love the idea of real writers being the cream. That’s beautiful!! I want to be the cream somewhere. I guess I just need to find my ‘world’ where I’m the cream and not the 1/2 and 1/2. Haha :o)
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I took it more to mean that the hard truth of writing is few will ever rise to the grand expectation that we all set out for – the Sharon Olds, Mary Olivers, Sylvia Plaths of the world. Whether they are considered the “real writers” I dunno about that. Sometimes we work hard our whole lives and never “make it” but our success as writers has to be in the quality of our work, in how much we love our work, in being proud of our work. That’s the best we can do. The rest is out of our hands and we can’t worry about being the cream, we can only worry about our work.
But it doesn’t hurt to dream about the cream, either 😉
xoxo
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Dear Rachel, the real work is to be able to sit with yourself in the quiet, in the light, in birdsong, and reach deeply into the heart of who you are, and say it. If you love your work, if you are proud of what you’ve done and have two or three others who know it and love it as you do, that is actually a very great thing. The world is a gargantuan place, there are as many writers as there are leaves on the trees. We can’t change the vastness of the ocean or the size of your teacup and broken umbrella. But we do have a choice about what and whether we write. xo
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Melissa,
I don’t know what to say other than thank you. You are so very very right and have brought momentary peace and what a lovely feeling it is. We cannot change the vastness of the ocean, as you say, all we can change and control and move is ourselves – and a choice always to write until we are proud.
I am glad when you stop by. always.
xo
rachel
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