Jekyll and Hyde and Publishing

27 August 2009

“The self that writes may need to be a delicate and protected creature, but the self that submits to magazines ought to be as tough as a rhino’s butt.”

-Christian Wiman, editor of Poetry
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Organization is one thing. Discipline is another. The discipline of getting up early before work to write poems has saved my life. However, if I want anyone other than my lovely wife to encounter these poems, I have to submit them to journals and contests. It is far more enticing to just write another poem. Or goof off on Facebook. Or stick needles in my eyes. In short, I’m still working on the sufficient thickness of rhino hide, strategically located and cultivated, to make this a dispassionate process.

I recently seem to have overcome one major obstacle. A writer pal observed awhile back that the more she writes, the less she submits, and this has been true for me–leading to backlog. So, I resolved to spend the several hours each Tuesday that Val is off with her own writers’ group to plough through worthy poems, matching them to potential suitors and sending them off on dates. Yeah, right. Human nature, anyone? The bigger the project, the more I stalled, leading to more backlog and a mounting sense of dismay.

The solution was to employ the same approach that led me through my MFA while working full-time–manageable bites. Even as I nibbled away at poem-writing (and still do) in less-than-forty-minute increments on a regular basis, I decided to set a ridiculously simple goal of sending poems to one journal or contest per week. And so, each Tuesday for the past two weeks, I have only sent a single batch of poems to a single journal. The consistency feels good, and, strangely enough, this seemingly trivial goal ends up being just about manageable in practice.

And so, I slip gradually into my Mr. Hyde (or is that “hide”?) role–steadily working away at the business of poem-sending. It seems trivial, but the truth is that I do, in fact, still live with a double mind. Mostly, what people see is my Jekyll-like nature in my working life. But still, nearly four years later, the grief of being a childless parent hits me suddenly, unexpectedly, in the middle of a seemingly ordinary life.

It can happen while reading a poem, too–mine, or someone else’s, on the topic of grief, or totally unrelated. And so, the process of sending out poems is one that seems easy, manageable, and even fun when I am feeling robust. But when the grief hits, the simplest tasks seem insurmountable. And so, by setting the smallest useful goal possible, I hope to keep putting my work out there, no matter what–finding strength in vulnerability, appropriate outlets for a sometimes double mind, and hope in knowing I will continue to show up to the conversation of poetry.

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Posted in Insights, Poetry | Tagged , , | Comments (8)

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  • http://keithswilson.blogspot.com/ Keith S. Wilson

    It’s strange. Poetry submission might be considered the most important thing you can do as a writer, since otherwise it can be considered nothing more than a hobby.

    But it just sucks so damn much. I don’t do managable bites like you. I spend an entire, miserable day doing nothing but sending off poetry submissions, and reading journals, and figuring out where to send things.

    I have decided recently, though, (And we’ll see how this works out) to try to send out at least one poem, preferably two for every rejection letter that I get back. That way, there are always some of my poems in rotation, and since some of them take so long to get back, I don’t regularly have to send poetry out in the first place.

  • Robert

    I hear ya, Keith. I just found the all-day process *too* miserable. But keeping stuff in rotation is key.

  • Paul Fericano

    Smart post, Robert. You’re on the right track. Keep writing and let the rest take care of itself. It always does.

  • http://www.cameronkellerscott.com Cam

    Yes, yes, and yes. I’m slowly emerging from eleven hour work days of the summer (kind of) and dusting off, and just trying to write again.

    Such strange processes and rhythms we have to become attuned to, otherwise nothing gets done.

    Love is perhaps the strongest discipline. Thanks for your thoughts all.
    Cheers.

  • Robert

    Thanks, Paul.

  • Robert

    Thanks, Cam. Discipline and disciple share a root. So yes, dedication to a calling–not a punishment but a love.

  • http://www.sacredpasssages.com Gavin Frye

    It is so helpful the way you clearly acknowledge your process of challenges and intentions, Robert. I can so relate, and at this moment am grateful that my blog keeps me on a mostly weekly flow of writing and publishing. There is that nagging business of a book or something that will flow out of my writings this past year. We’ll see where all this steady writing and willingness takes me, but just the process of writing — and your exampleship and loving support assisted me/assists me greatly in getting started and remaining faithful in a wholehearted way — has been tremendously fulfilling so far. Be well — both of you! Gavin

  • Robert

    Thanks, Gavin. So glad you’re finding your own rhythm with writing as well. And I must admit, too, that while finding satisfaction in the process is the deepest fulfillment for me, the idea of moving toward something tangible (like a book)–or even just the perception of an audience, as in when blogging, helps keep me engaged as well. All good, all useful. “Deep play,” as I heard one writer call it.