Uff-da!

I survived Day 3 of Marshall Festival. Lessons learned included, "It's never safe to snub another poet," and "Never eat pancakes at a Nebraska truckstop at 4 a.m." -- being that this last piece comes from a piece called "Bad Buttermilk" I'll make sure I remember it, if or when I wind up at a Nebraska truck stop.

Between 3 readings and a world premeire play I managed two new articles, shared a writing prompt, and recycled an old buried story from one site to another. And now, it's all over but the blogging.

Tomorrow morning is brunch and farewells, the long road trip back to the city. Outside the window, I hear echos from the stadium -- the Homecoming game. A reminder that the whole world of my college is not the literary fare, even if it is for me. The campus, the town, the dorms have all changed, and haven't. The old friends seem only slightly modified by the thin cloak of time.

Next Festival is on the wishlist for 2012. It was five years since the last one. Eight years since the one before-- which I missed because my kids were in school and there was no sitter.

This time, I managed to keep book purchasing under control-- escaping with 2 collections of poetry, although I wanted more. And I managed to leave my own novel, fueled so much by the rural breath of this place in the hands of someone familiar.

I am ready to call it a day. Tuck myself in, listen to the cheers, and the muffled voice of the announcer until I drift away.

Scribbling - Going on Day 2 of Marshall Festival

Yesterday, I travelled down prairie roads from the "big city" to the campus that taught me so much about the written word, the human spirit, and left me wanting more. Fortunately, for me, every now and then Southwest Minnesota State University, old friends, and the prairie provides. Yesterday, I attended two author readings, a student reading, and a tribute my old professor, Bill Holm who passed away last year. He was an icon of a man, a poet, an essayist, a musician, etc., etc, etc. -- no amount of reminiscing can really do him justice. But we try, and will keep trying because whatever bits we share will comfort us.

The Marshall Festival is smaller than it used to be, more intimate. What was once always a packed event, with out of towners fighting for lodging, readings that boasted standing room only like a rock concert or playoff game allow for a little more elbow room. New flowers grow along Memory Lane. But as always, it is inspiring. If my count is correct, this is my 4th festival. And although it is different, somehow it is always the same.

Like always, I bring my notebook. And scribble inspirations in random directions. Some words my own, a memory sparked from some tangent gift from the writer in front of me. Words held in the reserves of my mind, that finally think they might be ready to come out and play.

So now I go off to scribble in the white space  more of their words, more memory, more prophesy, and my own bits of courage. Just happy to have another day.

Win Some; Lose Some

So I attempted the classic to do list today, and I did get some things done that were on the list, but missed others. I also got other stuff done I didn't think I would. Writing this blog today was on the list. I got close to the cleaning done I planned. I really hate cleaning. I got one article done -- I wanted to get 2 done, but I at least started on the second one. I went shopping for my trip I'm taking to Marshall on Thursday. Bought a robe and an Ethernet cord, and I made a gigantic pot of chili.

Since I am leaving on Thursday and coming back Sunday my kids will have leftovers to supplement their own devices. I use the term kids loosely -- they are 18 and almost 20. Perfectly fine on their own devices.

So tomorrow I will need to add packing to my list, which I will have all made by 8:30 a.m.. It's all in the article I wrote today. The one I will write tomorrow should be fun. And I will see what else I can do.

But for now, I will put my leftover chili in the fridge and get ready to go to sleep. 6:30 tomorrow I get to try all over again.

Yesterday Was Huge

I was having one of those weird anxiety laded days yesterday about articles I had written and were waiting in the editor's queue. Yes, I know editors have a big job, but some things seem to zip to the top, and others dwindle. Anyway I was waiting on 2 Demand Studio Articles, and 2 Associated Content articles. Finally by the end of the day, I had one published in each place, another rejected, and I'm still waiting on one of the AC articles.

The article I'm waiting on is about the educational system in the US. It started as a review of "Waiting for Superman" but has gone beyond that. So, I asked to be reviewed for upfront payment, which can take a bit. If I just posted it for performance payments, it would just go up. But I think it's worth something more.

So, in my anxious frenzy I turned to the forums -- which I really hadn't done on AC. "Should I withdraw my upfront payment request?" I asked. "Is it worth it to stew for a few bucks?"

At first, I got some bigwig on the site quoting policy -- "it can take up to 10 business days."

Yeah, I know. "It can take" doesn't mean it typically does, and it doesn't mean things aren't going to sit in a queue and then not be approved anyway. The good news with AC, is even if I don't get upfront, I'll still post it for performance payments.

Then I got a real answer. If I can get my page views up, I'll be offered more money. Duh. So I made a few friends followed some more people. My page views went from 32 yesterday (which was actually good for me) to 199 today. :) I'm still waiting on that  approval, but I'm not as stressed about it.

So I learned-- Ask questions. Make friends. It can be time consuming, but it's worth the time

Oh, and that poem I promised, written mostly right after I saw the movie Howl.

 

Risk　
A lifetime of careful,
I tread lightly, tread lightly
　
All these eggshells have
gotten me to the bottom of the ferris wheel
back where I started
dizzy from going round and round
and getting nowhere
I dip my toe delicate,
as if somehow it is better than my foot
　
I never know
where the dropoff is
I bind myself with kite string
strap on a blindfold and tuck
myself away
　
But this time
I will see where the wind carries me
as I leap
wings first
keeping my eyes open
my arms spread eagle to
splat if I splat
soar if I soar
　
Tomorrow, regret or not
I'll know
what lies beyond
these borders
as I make my ready
for the next jump

Learning to be brave

Okay, today was not very productive. I had meant to have a low key writing day anyway, but I was going to apply for more "real" jobs. I did get one app in though. I will just have to write and apply for practical jobs tomorrow.

Last night, I went to the preview screening of the film based on Allen Ginsberg's poem "Howl." The film was a mixture of James Franco, playing Ginsberg reading "Howl" publicly, a reinactment of the "Howl" trial -- it was accused of being obscene and without literary merit, and animated representation of the poem, and dramatization of Ginsberg interviews.

Ginsberg was an open homosexual, and yes. "Howl" -- and many of his other poems were quite graphic in places. But perhaps the most interesting thing Ginsberg said was, "If a few people can be frank about homosexuality, then many people can be frank about other things."

And so lies the literary merit. Writing poetry, really writing poetry, is one of the bravest things you can do. Poetry exposes you, admits your vulnerability, even if only to yourself.

So tomorrow, I will finish the poem that I started writing in the memo area of my cell phone in the car on the way home. (No, I wasn't driving). And it will be posted here on my blog.