Nothing new to report except that some more short stories are appearing in my head out of the magical realm of the imagination. Still waiting for my copy of Zero Dark Thirty magazine with my lyric poem in it. It will be April, as I said, before I hear from Plainsongs about "one or more" of my poems there that have gone to the final readers. I got on the ball during the past weekend and sent out a short story and several groups of poems to various markets.
Mertie and I are watching Sharp Objects an 8 episode limited series. I like those better than endless series that don't end till people get tired of the sameness of them.
I'm trying to read Philip Roth's The Plot Against America.
Watched an interesting film Thoroughbreds last night, about two mentally ill young women. I liked it, but then, my taste is not the most popular taste.
Can't believe it's been three weeks since last entry.
More semi-success with poetry. The respected journal Plainsongs has forwarded "one or more" of my poems from my cancer ms to final judges. I won't know final results until April.
Not much else to report except that I'm currently reading Hemingway's A Moveable Feast with great interest. I find my approach to short stories somewhat match his approach as it existed when he was a youth in Paris.
Very shortly I will have reworked all my most recent short tales and built a ms for entering into contests. Maybe about 250 pages of fiction there. Still, no one has bitten on one of them to place in a journal. One story is still at the magazine that asked me specifically to send another piece of fiction.
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.
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| Recall this great film? |
This will be brief. I'm in the midst of fine tuning all the recent short stories and putting them into an ms. As I reread them, I'm further convinced of their worth. I do worry that certain editors may not catch onto one of my stylistic mannerisms. I'm just realizing it myself. Life, you know, is not like a Jamesian short story or a classical idea of art that requires all elements in a creative piece contribute to a final sense of meaning. Many writers strive for such an effect. I loved James' tales, but after a time of reading them and his style, I said, "Enough. I get it."
My stories include disparate elements. My characters might one moment be feeling sad about something and laughing about something else in another moment. Like in real life. Thus I am not able to achieve that classical ideal of art as I first encountered it as I pursued my degrees in English and Creative Writing. I suppose such disparity might be allowed in a long piece while not being appreciated in very short fiction which most of my pieces are. But it feels calming to be back at work after an uncomfortable time of doubt.
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.
I just ate a pulled pork barbecue sandwich at the Van Mall. Delicious. Could have used a bit more of the delicious sauce. Will ask for it next time. A local company, the Backyard Barbecue.
Now to business. Has been suggested by several websites that these entries ought to occur every other day or so. To keep readers titillated. But I figure, why write if news is sparse? Just finished rework of poetry ms about cancer treatments YOU WAKE ONE MORNING, REMEMBERING and submitted it to BKMK Press contest at University of Missouri. Cost thirty dollars to enter. Administrative costs, they say. Well, a bit too much I figure. But, the contest is prestigious and those who enter do so anonymously. Fair and square.
Next task is to put together another short fiction ms and enter it in contests too. The one I have already put together contains too many stories that modern editors will reject. Their style probably sounds out of date to a youthful editor. I imagine they don't get the charge out of those that I do. I hope another surge of short stories arises in my psyche.
Last task on list is to put together a poetry ms from my lifetime of work, the published and the unpublished — the very best I have written and circulate the ms in contests.
PS: The prostate cancer news is so so. Need more talk with urologist, I think.
Gambled a bit this morning at the Ilani Casino north of Vancouver. Lost but not much. Still ahead since winning 100 bucks in October was it? I only take $5 when I go.
Prostate cancer news not so good. My plan is to make it to 88 or 90. However the PSA is increasing rapidly. Have telephone consult with my urologist next week. He's also more cautious in his promises. More later.
On the writing front, I'm hugely encouraged. Last three submissions of most recent short stories to the very best paying markets have garnered three rejections but all three included requests for more submissions. Same thing happened with four poems from my prostate cancer ms. Strong encouragement and invite to submit again. I know the work is good, but they also compete with the very best writers who go for publication in top markets. I might never crack those markets, but I'm in the mix now I believe.
Three plans currently. Rework the cancer ms, put together a collection of short stories with the new ones plus a few older ones that have gathered good responses. Last, put together a collection of poetry that spans the years I've been writing poetry. The very best, the published stuff, filled in with unpublished I like. Submit these to prestigious contests.
Mertie and I are watching Sharp Objects an 8 episode limited series. I like those better than endless series that don't end till people get tired of the sameness of them. 
