Writing and "playing tennis without a net"--

I'm always both humbled and amazed by the power of writing in community with other gifted people who are not afraid to dig into the stuff that abides deeply. Still reflecting on the last week at The Frost Place, with so many people I've known for years and with new friends as well-- it takes a lot of guts and stamina to be vulnerable and honest in your work, and to sustain that for 6 days is a marathon of emotional intensity. I bow to their excellence, and I hope that I can keep it up as well. 

I was not going to hit the keyboard for a few days. The plan was to let my brain sift and settle, then get back at it. And while I didn't draft anything new yesterday, I did revisit some poems in progress and do some deep revisions. While only one of them is in an "arrived at the finish line" state (I think), others are making me a lot happier. So there's that.  I also sorted out some poems to start working on a second chapbook; why not? The other one is out there, getting some exposure (and the usual rejections). I have the work done, so putting poems together in an order with a common theme/arc seems to be a good next step. 

And today, I'll get back at the submissions game. It is a game of sorts-- you serve, and wait to see if any journals volley back.

Frost called writing free verse poetry was "like playing tennis without a net." I'd argue, the net serves as a boundary, and sometimes, we need to cross it to see what --or who-- is out there. 

Have a good day,

C