It’s been a few months, but I submitted a short collection of poetry to a well-known contest. I didn’t win (big news). I don’t mean for that to sound like a downer. I think all of my rejections are piled up in the back of my mind somewhere, somewhere they can fester and cause me to get mad, and with the anger, keep trying. I don’t think I write for acceptance. I try to understand myself more, and of course that means trying to understand other people as well.
I’m going to publish that collection of short poetry on the cmillerproject. I don’t consider myself a poet, but this collection may be the best poetry I’ve ever written. I feel inclined to share it for free.
I’m still working on my novel. It’s looking more like a novella now that I’ve edited another draft, and I think I’m going to self-publish it because I care more than anything how the story gets finished. I don’t want it to be heavily edited by some person I don’t know. I want the ideas to stick, and everything that happens to happen.
With all that said, I’ll post the collection in the next day, or maybe a few days. I have to make sure it’s smoothed out.