I just finished another manuscript. And of course the same feeling: like someone is pouring lead on my brain. Defeat times ten.
22 poems, 22 prose things that I wish were stories but are really probably just bastardized prose poems...why do I want to write stories, I wonder? Why do I feel that, because I'm a poet by nature, I'm going to always fall short? (Question: do you ever have this feeling?)
There is also a 23rd poem, though, that "Am Ende Nur Liebe". Which I think of as my way of shaping that "falling short" feeling into a bear-hug.
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I just finished another manuscript. And of course the same feeling: like someone is pouring lead on my brain. Defeat times ten.
22 poems, 22 prose things that I wish were stories but are really probably just bastardized prose poems...why do I want to write stories, I wonder? Why do I feel that, because I'm a poet by nature, I'm going to always fall short? (Question: do you ever have this feeling?)
There is also a 23rd poem, though, that "Am Ende Nur Liebe". Which I think of as my way of shaping that "falling short" feeling into a bear-hug.
End gratuitous, self-involved confessions.
Over and out.
I've been resisting the urge to ask for this manuscript because I haven't sent you my remarks (unasked for, I know) on the last one.
I will be asking sometime soon.
Falling short . . . indeed. I choose to call that learning instead, and that makes all the difference. Corny, but true.
yep, and on we go
i think that Dyer quote says it all doesn't it--the falling short is the very thing that propels you to the next thing...
Freud and his Lost Object stuff...
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