I wonder how I got to where I am and how I will get to where I’m going. Then, and now, I realize luck has nothing to do with it; however — faith: everything.
We absolutely, positively, hands-down create our lives. That purple elephant standing behind you? Entirely possible, only of your creation. read more »
December 3, 2009
This morning I woke early. 3:49 and I was already sure I wouldn’t be able to go back to bed. At 4:00 I gave in, and sat up in bed, grabbing the book K. just sent me in the mail, the one that I have been reading day and night, crying big, hiccuping sobs of gratitude and devotion. I am overcome with love, and just want to praise and praise and praise thank you thank you thank you i am alive. What do I want more than anything? read more »
My writing group chose “What I Stand For” as a freewrite topic. (Sharing:)
What I stand for is Yes. I am yes. I yes to everything – pain, perseverance, confusion, love, so much love, desire, caring, sacrifice, indulgence, life and all things searching. I want to yes the world. read more »
“We all grow up with the weight of history on us. Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies.” ~Shirley Abbott
“If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.” -Emily Dickinson
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To honor my mentor David Bromige, who passed away this past week, I will be posting some poems written under his tutelage or in collaboration. We would make a cup of tea, set arbitrary rules, and away we wrote~
Dedicated to Robin (for the inspiring shock of wisdom) & Kate (for the courage of her own instant art):
I feel it all, the universe is changing, and this is a freewrite and already there is tension. There are nerves. I like that better: this is a freewrite and already there are nerves. Could I ever publish this? I’m scared to publish something so raw., unfiltered, naked….My words are woven like candy sacks, smooth and strawberry. She said that my moment I am so distracted by an audience, oh, how to perform. I will go away and cry now, always always crying. Oh, god, there goes the baby again – my mother would say, and chris would go looking for the baby. Under the couch is where she’d find me, my mom, because I was so small I’d get lost. Who needs all this we do. We do. We need all the details and the confusion, because otherwise we’d have nothing to write about. Three stormy women embark upon being writers, and they cross paths just in time. Just in time! I mean, who needs a yahoo when you have friends, motivation, ears and competition? The skull and cross bones are for another day. Tonight, I choose peace. Tonight, I choose the 8-ball of Knowing and all Majesty & Magic. Go along, you roudy boy — my mr. kerouac, longing and rushed from dusty New Mexico across this great grape continent, loving you, I am you, watching you, I am everything else. Who else? Who wants it all? Oh! Oo.! I do! I do! Fifteen tiny hands shoot up in the air — oo! –ooo! me! me! and the classroom falls silent. Everything is happening. Everything is here, isn’t it? Ah, you great glowing universe, you fluctuate in brightness depending only on my mood, but always, always glowing beneath my mud, aren’t you? Aren’t you? I love, I am love, I see love happen before me, and I am calm.
We’re starting the new year off on the right foot. It’s cause for celebration:
Another rejection slip! Make that #6.
294 more to go.
“Publication – is the auction of the Mind of Man” ~Emily Dickinson
I finally got over my [fear? laziness?] and again submitted some work for publication. It only took me over a year…
As some of you may know, I’m eager for rejection in an attempt to hit 300 after hearing a writer speak to the benefits of the big R. Rather than fear it, I’m trying to “collect” rejection.
With that in mind, I’ll hope you congratulate me when you hear the news that:
Stegner Fellowship @ Standford Writing Program: REJECTED
ZYZZYVA submission for poetry publication: REJECTED
Yipppee! Only 296 more to go.
At a writing seminar I went to, on the topic of publication, one of the speakers commented:
“It takes the average writer 300 rejection letters before publishing something. It’s a numbers game. So consider every rejection one step closer to success. How can you be successful if you don’t put yourself out there? You have to get used to liking rejection.”
* * *
At this very moment, I have “Ce-le-brate good times, Come-on!” playing in my head — can you hear it? Can you hear it?
(Or, maybe I should be playing the theme song from Rocky?)
That’s because I got my ass kicked last night. And I’m not talkin’ metaphorically here. Nor verbally. I’m talkin’ literally kicked — and not just my ass: I have a nice shiner right under my fat, swollen chin; my hand is bruised from where I fisted my opponent’s face; my left rib has seen better days; and the inside of my tongue feels like a serrated banana slug.
I was drinking bourbon with a very good/old friend of mine (who’s male, more than twice my size, and knows how to kung fu kick, apparently, like there’s no tomorrow) and the next moment I was spitting blood. I suppose that’s all that needs to be said.
Except that’s not all: We boxed for 20 minutes, no mercy, I came out needing an ice pack and aspirin. But I had a blast.
* * *
Weeks before this, I came to realize the boy I’ve ostensibly had feelings for, for over a year, who I thought was always just too busy, too scared, too new, too unsure, too unready, actually just… doesn’t like me enough, and probably never will.
…And I think I’m stoked. Rejection actually felt freeing; I found this thing called “reciprocity” feels much nicer.
* * *
And so, I’ve also just received my first rejection letter for a book review I sent out for publication. After not hearing back for months, I finally got the “Thanks, No Thanks” email. I sat there for a moment, staring at my screen, not sure what to make of it. My review was well-written; I had worked hard on it — fuck, I even knew the Managing Editor of the magazine.
As I’m making some changes in my life, Life is turing around and reminding me that good-bye’s are a two-way street, and one has to be ready to keep a “stiff upper lip” when it comes to rejection. And in fact, maybe even cause for celebration…
I printed the rejection letter out and pinned it on my wall. Then I wrote “Rejected!” with a big red smiley face on it. Only 299 to go I thought.
Breaking News:
SAN FRANCISCO, CA — A new word was entered into San Francisco geek/writer Shannon DeJong’s vocabulary today, reports an anonymous source.
Sesquipedalian (pronounced \ses-kwuh-puh-DAYL-yuhn\) is a 5-syllabled, 14-lettered adjective meaning “given to or characterized by the use of long words” or “long and ponderous; having many syllables,” according to The Dictionary, a trusted expert on the matter.
It is also a noun, and can mean “long word.”
The word has been officially deemed as being “really cool” because “it’s a long word that means ‘long word.’”
The discovery of the new word was exciting but not wholly unexpected, says DeJong.
“I subscribe to Word-a-Day from Dictionary.com, and so I wasn’t surprised to see an email in my inbox that contained a new word. But I never expected the word to be this cool–and on a Friday, too! Bonus!”
According to DeJong, sesquipedalian has been ranked in her Favorite Words Ever List, over-taking aubergine for 3rd place, but not beating out snarky and susurrus.
“Those two are just too neat. How can you beat them?” says DeJong.
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EDITOR’S NOTE: For those of you word-buffs who want some “actual” news, it was announced recently that Wi-Fi is an official entry into the new 11th Edition of Merriam-Webster Dictionary. Wi-Fi was a name created by the partners of SALT Branding (my place of “work”) and is the first time a brand name that has come out of SALT has become so entrenched in the English language that it warrented a dictionary entry.
(Apologies for the obvious plug, but I do think it’s almost as cool as sesquipedalian…almost.)