Hello, Halo

There is something that has been on my mind more and more over the past few days. Even more than more, actually. And a bit more than that. It’s something that I’m not sure that I can achieve, and I’m terrified to pursue. But, I also feel like it’s something that I need to do.

I want to get published.

Seriously.

Ideally, this is what I’m going to school for. That being the case, I should probably hold off. I should just wait, learn a bit more about technique, hang on, and play the safe route….
Nah.

I talk about being a writer all the time. And you know, I’ve tried to talk myself out of it. Truly. It’s hard to become an author or a writer. I know that. There are so many people who think they can write, and try to make a living doing such, but can’t, because, despite what they tell themselves, they aren’t that good! So, I tried to make myself come up with an alternate route. One that would actually lead me to a practical career. A teacher maybe. I could teach writing..? Yeah right. I would be terrible at that. I thought of a lot of different options, but none were as enticing. Nope. I want to be a writer. I want to write what I want: poetry, short stories, articles, essays, whatever I so choose. I believe that if you’re passionate about something, you should stop ignoring it! Run with it! Go nuts!
But saying and doing are two very different things.

So here’s the thing. I have about a thousand poems and short stories that nobody has ever read. There are a lot of reasons. I am very critical of my own writing (seriously.. I wrote my admissions essay to Columbia at least 6 times) and I never think it’s quite as good as it could be. But I’m also afraid. I’m afraid I might be that person who wants so desperately to do something, that I build myself up too much. Once my stuff is out there for you to read, it’s out there. You can say whatever the hell you want about it. And what you say could be something like “Wow. That. Was. Awful.”

Another dilemma? Poetry is so hard. There are so many rules, which can be confusing, because they are almost all meant
to be broken. Not only that, but what you think is good, may not be good in reality. For instance, let’s say I write something that is seemingly quite simple. A few words put together in an interesting way. I may think it’s pretty good, but you may say “Uh…Oh. What the hell…” Example?
ee Cummings:

l(a
le
af
fa
ll
s)
l
one

iness

I think this is brilliant and beautiful. But if I were to write something like this, what would you think? Is it different because this came from ee Cummings?
Or something that is artistic and interesting.

The winter evening settles down
With smell of steaks in passageways.
Six o’clock.
The burnt-out ends of smoky days.
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves about your feet
And newspapers from vacant lots;
The showers beat
On broken blinds and chimneypots,
And at the corner of the street
A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.
And then the lighting of the lamps.

If I were to write something like this would it be cheesey?

It’s difficult to tell.

But, here’s the thing. When I sit down, I clear out the distractions. I pick up my pen, I write, and it’s just me. Everything else is background. The tv, the phone, whatever is happening outside… None of it really matters. Which brings us back to a previous thought: When you are passionate about something, run with it!

 

So, fuck it. It’s hard to get feedback if you don’t contribute. It’s hard to get published if you never try. So, I’ll make it a point to get up some writings this week. Hopefully you guys don’t hate them. But if you do, ah well, ya live and learn.

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