I've been around. It's commonplace for a writer to have brief moments of tiny triumphs, a publication, an acceptance, a work that is truely special, followed by months, even years of rejection after rejection, of cold winter days trying to force somthing creative out of our stupid job-for-money mashed melon heads.
Almost all commited artists in America are forced to hold an additional job to pay the rent. It is a conflicted and exhausting way to live. But we have no choice. The gift, and I use the term with a snicker, must find an outlet.
Entering 2009, I find myself on a bit of a hot streak. It won't last. They never seem to.
The latest:
Two poems, "T.O.E." and "Winter Olympics" will appear in the Summer 2009 issue of the National Public Radio Literary Magazine "Quiddity". I will also read them on NPRs "All Things Considered".
My four poem musician series will be in an upcoming version of Word Riot.
My screenplay "Front Man" has just won the Platinum Prize(1,300 entries) in the Filmmaker's contest.
I continue to hope, against all odds, that it will all lead to Nirvana. Doing what I love for a living.
