BEATNIK FINDS MOM IN JUDY

Got another poem accepted for publication in near future in O-Dark-Thirty. I don't know exactly when the issue will come out. Payment is a copy of the journal. I sent three poems and they took one of them—Rice Harvest. The poem they took is extremely subtle and musical too. I had given up on getting it published until I saw their call for poetry from veterans. The poem is about Vietnam, and the death of young men in rice fields. Short stories still going out and coming back.

Still laboring—very slowly—on the short story ms, rewriting each tale one last time. Far too many days, dizziness plagues my sensibility. Today—head clear—I'll get some work done as soon as I publish this post.

Recent viewing: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood and Judy. Both worth a look if you've a mind to. Judy reminds me of my mother's dramatic ways.

BEATNIK BATTLES ICE AND SNOW

Just got another one. That's three rejections of my recent stories with invitations to send more work. Feels almost as good as an acceptance. Feels like I'm just under an ice surface, poking at it with an ice pick. I know where the image comes from. Wife and I recently watched first season of Fargo, the TV series. If you've seen it, you know where the ice image comes from and the thought of being trapped under the ice.

Lately, my work has stopped entirely. I live with a sort of dizzy, old age lethargy. Hard to generate a creative thought out of it. I may talk to the doctor about the dizziness, but, long ago, a doctor told me it's common with old age and likely to get worse. Over the years it has gotten worse. Too many days of it now. But, today, dizziness or not, I'm going to work on a story I began a month ago. See if I can feel my way to a creative ending, an entertaining middle, an enticing start. Of course, I can always work on the short story ms for submission to the most prestigious contests. Maybe all the stories together will generate a more positive energy. Enough to make a breakthrough.